Page 12 of Sophia’s Letter (Ladies of Munro #1)

S ettled at last at the front of the small, stone church, Sophia could enjoy her view of the happy couple. The way the room had shrunk to contain just the two of them. How Freddy held her gaze in his, her hand and heart in his.

Adriana was wearing her favorite winter dress, a long-sleeved, powder-pink creation with very little adornment. Mama had always said Adriana’s personality was all the ornament she ever needed. This was never truer than today. Her face shone with joy. And peace—a feature that seldom made its appearance. But it was here now, in abundance.

A pale-brown mink stole kept the cold from her shoulders and back. But her heart—oh, her heart was warmed with love well met. It radiated from her like the glow of a brave new dawn.

As lovely as her sister looked, Sophia knew it had little to do with her attire. Regardless of what she wore, Adriana would shine today. In this moment, all sorrows of the past, all fears of the future, were quite forgotten. Freddy would join his life to hers, bandage the wounds not yet healed or yet to be formed. It was a moment of unalloyed hope. And it was contagious.

Sophia tilted her head toward Tobias. He was that man for her. The one who made her forget lingering pain and replaced it with dreams she had long believed impossible. Sometimes she even pictured those dreams coming true. If anyone could bring rebirth to her father’s fossilized emotions, it would be Tobias. Look how the scars in her own heart had faded! Perhaps, given enough time, she would be standing in this very church, with her father’s blessing, hearing the parish priest say…

“I pronounce that they be man and wife together.”

Freddy and Adriana turned to face the handful of witnesses, grinning unabashedly.

Somewhere from the back of the church came a gasp, followed by a muffled laugh.

“Shush, Mary. People will stare.” The low voice sounded more bored than dismayed.

“But, Irene, that’s Miss Adriana Grant!”

“I believe she is Mrs. Wynn now.”

“No, you don’t understand.” The woman called Mary spoke in a whisper so loud that the small church echoed with her words. “She’s the daughter of Mr. Conrad Grant. You know. Him . The one who lost his wife and then lost his mind.”

Freddy and Adriana froze. The fresh matrimonial bliss drained from their faces.

“Ah,” said the woman called Irene, sounding decidedly more enthusiastic, “then we simply must go and shake their hands.”

A rustling of skirts preceded the soft patter of eager feet up the aisle. As the two women hurried past, one of them glanced down at Sophia and Tobias and—seeming to recognize no one of value—continued on. But her narrow face and regal air would be burned forever into Sophia’s memory.

The other woman—far prettier, but lacking the same presence as her imposing friend—did not even acknowledge their presence. She was far too keen to reach the unfortunate newlyweds, her arms extended in ready embrace, her face a mask of celebration.

Tobias sat bolt upright in the pew. He stared as the mysterious woman hugged Adriana and pulled away, only to grab her hands instead in pretended friendship.

“Why, Mrs. Wynn, I did not expect to see you under such pleasant circumstances.” The stranger whirled around as if struck by a sudden thought. “Your father is not here?” Her triumph at finding Sophia and Adriana’s father absent was ill-disguised. But her surprise at seeing Tobias was not concealed at all.

“Mr. Mannerly! What are you doing here? And who is this with you? Are you friends of the bride or groom?”

Tobias looked as if he wished to shrink inside his coat.

“Are you not going to introduce us, sir?” the woman asked, an almost predatory smile lacing her eyes and mouth.

“So this is Mr. Mannerly?” the tall, haughty friend inquired, her expression no less hungry. “Yes, now I understand. You described him perfectly, Mary.” Her lips curled into a condescending smile. “And with whom does Mr. Mannerly keep company now?”

She stepped toward Sophia, her very fashionable dress shaping around bony knees that matched the rest of her equally angular features. She dropped her hand limply at Sophia’s face, as if she expected to have it kissed in papal fashion. “Irene Sangford.” She announced herself, her voice a languid drawl, as though she could scarcely be bothered to make the effort of speech. “And you are?”

Sophia felt obliged to shake the rather forward woman’s hand, though her gentle grip was not returned. It was akin to greeting a fish—all cool and damp, and sans an ounce of character.

Tobias stood up, forcing Miss Sangford to take a step backward. “You will know Miss Sophia Grant from her great works of poetry. And we are here to support both bride and groom.”

He looked grimly at Sophia. “These ladies are Miss Irene Sangford, whom I have just met, and Miss Mary Dunbar, with whom I am previously acquainted.”

“Miss Sophia Grant?” Miss Dunbar swiveled to face her. “I was given to understand you never left the sanctuary of your home. Is your health so greatly improved, then, that attending your sister’s wedding does it no harm?”

Miss Sangford snickered. “Isn’t it obvious? Mr. Mannerly is clearly the cause for her newly robust constitution.”

Tobias hastily interjected. “And which of the wedding party have you come to support?”

“Why, my own!” Miss Dunbar cried. “We came to discuss the details of the forthcoming event with Mr. Darrow here.” She indicated the clergyman who waited patiently for their appointment to proceed. “We were early. Or your wedding ran late. What does it matter? We bothered no one. Merely sat in the last pew and waited.” She barked a quick laugh. “Not in a month of Sundays did we expect the Grants at a wedding. Nor in a wedding, for that matter.” The hunter’s lust returned to her eyes. “And we certainly did not know of your connection to their… remarkable family.”

“Nor was it necessary for you to know,” Tobias replied stiffly. “We no longer frequent the same society, you and I.”

Miss Dunbar cocked her head to the side. “Did we ever really, though? After a few appearances at card evenings and dances, you rarely left your uncle’s home anymore. Lord Carthige must be ever such fascinating company.” A smirk escaped and she looked away before Mr. Darrow spied it.

Miss Sangford, by contrast, drew nearer, as if pulled by a magnet.

“Lord Carthige? The earl is your uncle?”

Tobias nodded curtly.

“Oh my, I had no idea we were in such illustrious company.”

“You are not,” Tobias answered. “I am merely a student of books. I do not stand to inherit the title or the estate.”

“No.” Miss Sangford appeared thoughtful. “That would go to his son.”

“If he ever has one.” Miss Dunbar shrugged. “Lord Carthige is something of a recluse, isn’t he, Mr. Mannerly? I believe there is a younger brother who will receive all eventually.”

“A married brother,” added Miss Sangford with a tone of disapproval.

“Well, yes,” her friend agreed. “And just as well. Else what would happen to the family line?”

“The situation can yet be salvaged,” declared Miss Sangford. “While Lord Carthige lives, an heir can be procured.”

The thought of Miss Sangford anywhere near Lord Carthige, with her claws extended and ready to sink in, roused the mother tigress in Sophia.

“He is happy as he is,” she informed the presumptuous woman. After all, hadn’t Tobias told her as much already in their earliest correspondence? His uncle was apparently the most content fellow Tobias had ever had the pleasure to know.

Miss Sangford raised a bemused eyebrow. “Is he, indeed? It is my experience that men do not know what they want. It is up to the fairer sex to enlighten them.”

“I need no one to tell me my own mind,” Tobias snapped. “And neither does my uncle.”

“My dear Mr. Mannerly, your own mind has led you into an intrigue with a daughter of Mr. Conrad Grant.” She turned to indicate the now-simmering Adriana but stopped when Tobias’s eyes flicked to Sophia instead.

“I see!” she gloated. “There are two secrets revealed today! And here I thought this would be a dull meeting to discuss my friend’s nuptials.”

Behind her, Mr. Darrow cleared his throat meaningfully. “Speaking of which, Miss Dunbar, should we proceed to the rectory? I can take notes for the arrangements in my study. And the chairs are more comfortable than our pews.”

“You go ahead, Mary dear,” Miss Sangford purred. “I shall amuse myself here instead.”

Mr. Darrow frowned. “May I remind you, Miss Sangford, that this is a house of God? It is not a venue for superficial entertainment.”

“Why, Mr. Darrow, I merely wish to further my acquaintance with these darling souls of your flock. You would not begrudge me that, would you?”

“My wife can offer you a hot cup of tea and a warm parlor instead,” he tried again.

“I am in need of neither,” she said.

“I wish you would come with me, Irene,” Miss Dunbar complained. “You have such a good mind for details. That is why I asked you in the first place.”

“Oh, I shall be along presently,” her friend replied without even looking at her. “There are just a few arrangements to be made here first.”

Miss Dunbar paused, her eyes flitting from Miss Sangford to Tobias. “Don’t waste your time on a lost cause, dear.”

“Oh, I think I have it all in hand, thank you.” Miss Sangford formed a terrifyingly friendly smile that lurked like a stranger upon her face.

“Very well. But do be quick. I quite rely on your sharp mind to steer me through all that must be done.”

Miss Sangford nodded, sustaining her smile with remarkable skill until Mr. Darrow escorted Miss Dunbar through the doors of the church. Then, it folded in upon itself. And the prowling hunger was back.

“How dare you!” Adriana flew at her, seething with rage. “How dare you insert yourself into our company and spoil our day! You are not welcome here!”

“What?” The smile returned, but it was not friendly. “You wish to banish me from this sanctuary? That is rather presumptuous, don’t you think?”

“No more presumptuous than your insinuations about our family and that of Lord Carthige.” Adriana’s fists were balled. She had them primed at her side. One wrong word from Miss Sangford and she would very likely need to be held back. Freddy put a protective hand on his wife’s arm, though Sophia knew it was Miss Sangford who was truly in danger.

Tobias stepped between them. “I think it best if you go, Miss Sangford. There is nothing for you here.”

“Oh, I disagree,” replied the harpy. And she sat down.

The tension in the room thickened.

She patted the pew. “Please, do join me. We have much to discuss.”

“We will do nothing of the sort.” Freddy growled. “Come, Adriana, we must get your sister home before…”

“Before your father knows she is missing?” Miss Sangford inquired innocently.

“It is none of your business,” Adriana hissed. “Return to your friend and your menial amusements. Leave us alone.”

“You do not give me enough credit, Mrs. Wynn. Come. Sit down. Let me explain my little scheme to you.”

Sophia’s chest tightened. Warning signals chased up her spine, and dread seeped into every limb. This woman was dangerous. Of that, she had no doubt. She could see the fear in Adriana’s eyes, despite her fury. And if Adriana was afraid, it was very bad indeed.

When no one moved, Miss Sangford sighed. “Very well, stay as you are. It makes no difference to me.” She picked at an imaginary speck on her skirt, flicked it away, then folded her hands upon her lap to signify readiness.

“You have married without Mr. Grant’s blessing,” she said matter-of-factly. “Nay, I would go so far as to say, without his knowledge. Your sister is co-conspirator. And Mr. Mannerly is unknown to him entirely. How am I doing so far?”

Sophia squirmed with the accuracy of these deductions. Her companions stood rooted to the spot, waiting for their accuser to reveal her intent.

“What of it?” Adriana managed to say, though her voice was unable to match the nonchalance of her words.

“Certainly, you expect your father to discover the elopement. No doubt you have a brave spirit, Mrs. Wynn. I admire that. But he would be doubly betrayed if he knew your sister had attended the wedding behind his back. And one can only guess at the heights of wrath he would reach if Mr. Mannerly’s role were discovered.”

“ Blackmail ? You want to blackmail us?” Tobias uttered a gruff laugh. “Do your worst. I am not afraid of Mr. Grant.”

“No?” Irene Sangford rounded on Sophia like a cobra, pinning her down with the threat of the poison she had in her bite. “I think Miss Grant does not share your sentiment. Do you, Miss Grant? Perhaps, instead, you writhe with fear at the very thought of being thus exposed. I would wager you would do anything, anything , to keep this from happening.” Her head whipped around so suddenly that Tobias jumped a little in spite of himself. “And you would do anything for your beloved if she asked you, would you not, hmmm?”

Tobias straightened his waistcoat. “What do you want, exactly?”

Miss Sangford clapped her hands and brought them to her chin. “I’m so glad you asked. It is only a very small thing.” Her eyes flashed with avarice. “I would like an introduction to the earl.”

“What on Earth for?” Tobias exclaimed.

“Oh, you have wholly overestimated yourself, Miss Sangford.” Adriana sneered. “The earl will want nothing to do with the likes of you.”

Adriana’s words had no effect on her opponent’s confidence. “We shall see,” she answered with infuriating calm. “Lord Carthige is not a man of the world. He is unpracticed in the social arts. I, on the other hand, know the rules of the game and have played it many times.”

“And yet you remain unwed,” Adriana bit back.

For a moment, something flickered behind Miss Irene Sangford’s eyes. It was quickly shuttered again. What was it? Doubt? Humiliation? Sophia did not know. The moment was gone and the weakness hidden.

“It is to my advantage to refuse all offers that are beneath me,” Miss Sangford said. “But an earl will do nicely.”

“What do you expect will happen?” Adriana continued. “Do you honestly believe Lord Carthige will give up decades of self-imposed seclusion to be bound to such a pasty, bracket-faced scrag? You must be joking!”

Miss Sangford leaped from her seat, thrusting a bony finger under Adriana’s nose. “You know nothing! Men are fools!” In a heartbeat, the inflamed woman subsided into something resembling charm. “Oh, my dear Lord Carthige…” She simpered. “I had not realized there was someone who shared my preoccupation…nay, my obsession with books. Why, yes, I would love to see your library. No, I am in no rush. I am content in your company, surrounded by such great volumes.” She straightened up, resuming her usual demeanor. “Do you see?” She opened her palm. “I hold out the seed, and the little bird is in my hand.”

Tobias clenched his jaw. “He is neither infirm of mind nor body. You will be transparent as glass. And if he should grant you any leniency, I would be sure to correct his thinking.”

“Oh, but you won’t. If you speak, I speak.” She threw a glance at Sophia. “Ask her if she has the strength for the truth. Go ahead. I can wait.”

Tobias turned his distraught face to Sophia, who shriveled under his gaze. “Sophia? Would it matter so much?”

She turned her head away. She could not look him in the eye.

Adriana touched his shoulder. “Please, she is not yet strong enough. Maybe, in time. But not today. It will break what little spirit she has regained.”

Tobias scowled. “So, I must trust my uncle not to fall prey to this…this…monstrous thing?”

Sophia burst into tears, burying her face in her hands. “I am so sorry, Tobias.” She had no words for him. None of her studies, none of the numerous languages she had mastered, had given her the right speech for a situation like this. There wasn’t a single line of poetry that could counter the depths of her guilt or the depravity of her enemy.

She felt her beloved’s eyes upon her, waiting for her support. Waiting in vain. Then his gaze lifted, and she heard him say, “Very well. An introduction shall be made. For the good it will do you.”

“Capital! You have one month to arrange it. Or Mr. Grant receives a letter from a concerned member of the public, detailing your various subterfuges. There are likely more I have not yet uncovered. You will decide how motivated I am to do so.”

There was a heavy silence as the threat sank in.

It was disturbed by Frederick Wynn clearing his throat uncomfortably.

“I don’t mean to make this damnable affair any worse, but how, exactly, are we to arrange this? What is the excuse Mr. Mannerly should rely on to invite Miss Sangford to Newcliffe Hall? We all know Lord Carthige is unlikely to be drawn from his home. Nor would he expect his nephew to be friends with Miss Sangford. Especially since his lordship is aware of his affections for Miss Grant.”

“Well, there you have your solution,” said Miss Sangford. “Arrange the introduction through Miss Grant. She must surely have lady friends to tea. Invite the earl along. He is your neighbor, after all.” She rolled her eyes. “Really, must I do all the thinking for you?”

“You don’t understand,” Tobias argued. “Mr. Grant is not accustomed to…”

Miss Sangford held up her hand. “I am becoming rather bored of your lack of imagination, sir. And my friend is waiting for me. You have one month. You may be sure I shall not forget our arrangement. Meanwhile, I bid you adieu.” And she sailed from the room, leaving devastation in her wake.