Surrender of a Siren (The Wanton Dairymaid Trilogy #2)(114)

Smiling, Lucy pulled Sophia’s hand against her rounded belly, placing her own hand on Sophia’s flat stomach. “And you’re not. At least, not discernibly.”

No, not discernibly. Sophia smiled, keeping her suspicions to herself.

“Well,” Lucy said, “that will disappoint the gossips.”

At the mention of gossip, Sophia cringed. “Lucy, you shouldn’t even be here. A countess can’t be associated with such scandal.”

“Scandal? Your husband’s to be knighted. They’re making him out to be Lancelot, Robin Hood, and Lord Nelson all rolled into one. You’ll be guests of honor at every table in London.” Lucy craned her neck to peek into the corridor. “Where is this living legend, anyway?”

“Gray? He’s at his shipping office.” Sophia directed her friend to a chair. “But even if he is to receive a commendation, surely I will not be welcome at those dinner tables. I’m ruined, most thoroughly.”

“Because you broke your engagement?”

“Because I eloped with a fictional Frenchman!”

“You mean Gervais?” Lucy laughed. “Oh, no one knows about that. Your parents told everyone you’d taken ill and been sent to the seaside to recover. There may have been a few rumors to the contrary, but the fact that you fell into mad, passionate love with a heroic sea captain corroborates the tale quite nicely. You did fall into mad, passionate love with him, didn’t you?”

Sophia nodded, numb with disbelief. Could it be true? Her parents, her sister, her jilted betrothed, her friends … they had all kept her escape secret?

“Oh, I knew it!” Lucy clapped her hands. “You must tell me everything.”

“Perhaps another day.” Sophia cast a glance at Bel.

“I see,” Lucy whispered, following her gaze. “The story is that good, is it? Well, I suppose it will keep for another visit.” She gave Sophia an appraising look. “If you’ve been ruined, I must say it suits you. You look very well.”

“And breeding suits you. You are radiant.”

Lucy made a dismissive wave, but the assessment was true. While Sophia would never have called her friend a great beauty before, she merited the term now. The pregnancy rounded off Lucy’s sharp angles, and her dark-brown hair positively gleamed. The maid entered, bearing a tray laden with tea service and refreshments.

“Isabel, would you be so good as to pour?” Sophia asked.

“Certainly.”

While the young lady busied herself with teacups, Sophia drew her chair closer to Lucy’s.

“How is Toby?” she whispered. “I can’t believe he never said a word about Gervais, when he had every motive to humiliate me publicly and demand restitution. Was he horribly hurt when I left?”

“Which answer are you hoping to hear? That he has endured great agony for love of you, or that he has forgotten you already?” Lucy laid a hand over Sophia’s. “He has suffered, but I believe his pride incurred a deeper wound than his heart. Regardless, he is too good to humiliate anyone or make demands. He and Felix searched all England for you. You had us quite anxious, you know.”

Guilt pinched in Sophia’s chest. “How you all must hate me.”

Lucy squeezed her hand. “How grateful we all are to have you safely home. I’m certain your family will feel the same. How could they complain? They’ll have a title in the family now, just as they always wanted.”

Bel interrupted their conference, a teacup and saucer balanced in either hand.

“Miss Grayson,” Lucy asked, accepting her teacup, “are you to have a debut this Season?”

“Oh, no.” Bel handed the other cup to Sophia.

“Maybe you should reconsider.” Sophia perked, thinking of the possibilities. “We had thought a formal presentation imprudent,” she told Lucy, “given my situation. But if the scandal has truly been contained … Bel might look as high as she wishes. She could even marry a lord, should she so desire.”

“But I don’t want to marry a lord,” Bel protested.

“No, you don’t.” Lucy reached for a teacake. “It’s not nearly as amusing as it sounds. People have such wearying expectations. Ever since my husband took up his seat in Lords, it’s been one thing after another. I’m always being asked to subscribe to Lady Thus-and-so’s charitable society or purchase vouchers for some benefit musicale.”

“Truly?” Bel sipped her tea, looking pensive.

“Jeremy gives me more money than I know what to do with, so naturally I support them all. But worse, people are continually asking my opinion on lofty topics … as if I understand tariffs or navies. I try to smile and change the subject, but they insist on assigning me a ridiculous amount of influence, simply because my husband’s stared down a few fusty members of Parliament.” Lucy took a bite of cake. “What ever you do, don’t marry a lord.”

“What interesting advice.” Bel put down her teacup.

Sophia touched Bel’s wrist. “We’re only teasing. You shall marry for love. Your brother would not have it any other way.”

“If that is so, than I doubt I shall marry at all,” Bel said. “My heart is already so full, with devotion to my family and passion for God’s work. There cannot be room for romantic love, too.”