Lady Sophia's Lover (Bow Street Runners #2)(44)

Dipping into a curtsy, Sophia murmured, “Good afternoon, Mr. Cannon.”

Matthew regarded her with obvious surprise. Amused, Sophia realized that he had not been told that she was here. But of course, matters involving servants would certainly be of no interest to him.

“What are you doing here?” he asked rudely.

She kept her gaze submissively lowered as she replied, “I was summoned by Mrs. Cannon to help with the preparations for the party, as the previous housekeeper left rather precipitately.”

The young blond woman looked up at Matthew. “Who is she?”

He gave a dismissive shrug. “Only my brother’s servant. Come, Iona, it is unseemly for us to dawdle on the landing.”

As the pair left, Sophia observed them with interest. Matthew’s wife was a classic English beauty, golden and fair, her eyes pale blue, her mouth as small and red as a rosebud. Iona seemed cool and remote, as if she were incapable of ever being in a temper. Sophia felt sorry for her. Marriage to a spoiled brat like Matthew could not be easy.

Much later in the evening, the guests proceeded into the dining room, which was dominated by a marble inglenook fireplace. Great stone arches framed a series of pre-Raphaelite stained-glass windows that glittered in the blaze of candlelight. Sophia concealed herself from view as much as possible, occasionally conferring with the footmen as they served the eight-course meal, which included braised beef, John Dory fish, roast hare and teal, and pheasant sausage. After a lengthy succession of removes, a selection of jellies, cakes, and ices was served.

At the conclusion of supper, the footmen removed all the dishes and used clean silver knives to scrape any crumbs from the tablecloth. The ladies withdrew for coffee in the drawing room. Although most of the gentlemen remained at the table for port and masculine conversation, a few headed to the billiards room for a smoke. Following a half hour of segregation, the entire crowd rejoined in the drawing room for tea and entertainment.

Sophia entered the room discreetly and glanced at Catherine Cannon to see if she was satisfied. As their gazes met, Catherine smiled and gestured for Sophia to come to her.

Sophia obeyed quickly. “Yes, Mrs. Cannon?”

“Sophia, the guests wish to play a game of murder.”

“Ma’am?” Sophia asked, mildly startled.

Catherine laughed at her expression. “Murder is all the rage just now—haven’t you heard of it? The players draw slips of paper from a bowl to see what parts they are to take. One slip says ‘murderer,’ another is labeled ‘investigator,’ and all the rest are potential victims. The house must be darkened, and everyone goes to hide. The murderer goes about finding his victims, while the investigator tries to discover his—or her—identity.”

“Like hide-and-seek.”

“Exactly! Now, Sophia, take one or two of the maids and darken the house. And tell the servants to go about their work without getting in the way of the players.”

“Yes, Mrs. Cannon. May I ask which areas of the house are to be dimmed?”

One of Catherine’s companions, a middle-aged woman with an elegant sweep of red-gold hair, answered disdainfully. “The whole of it, of course! The game would not be nearly as exciting if we couldn’t use the whole house.”

Ignoring the woman, Sophia lowered her head and murmured to Catherine, “Mrs. Cannon, may I suggest that the kitchen remain lighted, as the scullery maids have a great deal of washing up to do?”

Catherine’s green eyes sparkled with amusement. “A wise suggestion, Sophia. You may keep the kitchen lit. Now hurry, please, as I fear many of the guests are impatient to begin.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As Sophia walked away, she heard the red-haired woman say to Catherine, “I don’t fancy her manner, Cathy. Rather proud, if you ask me. Not at all appropriate for a housekeeper.”

Sophia’s ears burned when she heard herself being criticized. “No one asked for your opinion,” she muttered beneath her breath. Try as she might, she could not stop herself from thinking bitterly that if fate had been kinder, she might have been a guest this very evening. She had been born the social equal of these people, and she had little patience for their pretensions. In fact, her blood was bluer than the Cannons‘, though that was of no consequence now.

After directing the housemaids to darken the rooms, Sophia went to turn down the lamps in one of the upstairs receiving rooms. Moonlight glowed through the window, and she began to draw the velvet panels over the glass panes.

Someone entered the room. Sophia hesitated in a pool of moonlight as she turned toward the visitor. At first glance, the man’s shadowed form reminded her of Ross, and her heart jolted with anticipation. But the sound of his voice caused her spirits to plummet abruptly.

“What a clever little cat you are,” Matthew Cannon declared contemptuously. “Wriggling your way into my brother’s life, and now into my family’s home. You must be quite pleased with yourself.”

Sophia strove to sound emotionless despite a flare of outrage. What right had he to follow her up here and insult her? “I do not know what you mean, Mr. Cannon. I only hope that I have pleased your mother.”

He gave a guttural laugh. “I’m sure you have. No doubt you’ve pleased my brother as well, in more ways than one.”

“Sir?” She pretended not to understand his meaning and began to leave. “Please excuse me—”