pitiable existence. With the possible exception of your care, Frederick did little that was not motivated by his own pleasure-seeking."
Tremont was perfectly aware that the color had drained from Sophia's face. He imagined that if he grazed her with his fingertips, he would find the touch of her to be quite cold, perhaps capable of burning him with its iciness. It did not stop him from continuing. There were things that must be said, and he was a firm believer in being cruel to be kind. "The reason any funds remain in the family coffers, Sophia, owes much to the fact that Providence finally cornered your father. I have no quarrel with the God who struck Frederick down and made him bedfast. No less compelling a tragedy could have kept him from squandering what was left of his fortune."
Sophia felt the numbness around her heart spread to other internal organs. She no longer noticed the queer little tightness in her stomach or the constriction in her lungs. The coursing of her blood carried the effects quickly so that in moments it was no easy thing to feel the tips of her fingers or toes. When a dark veil fluttered at the periphery of her vision, Sophie thought she might faint. It was contemplating the very ignominy of that event that made her struggle to draw air.
Tremont was still not finished. He clasped his hands behind his back and rocked slightly forward on the balls of his feet. "You are to be commended for nursing your father in the final years of his life. No one can fault you for the care and devotion you gave him; yet it is also true that the estate fell further into disrepair during that time, the rents decreased, and there was even less income than before. I have seen the accounts, Sophia. If you had so many fine schemes for the management of the land and the farmers and the crops, the time to put them into practice would have been then, don't you think? That you upbraid us now for looking for another solution seems rather ill considered. We had no part in creating this opportunity with the marquess, but it would be foolish in the extreme if we were not to seize it. You would do well to reflect upon your refusal, m'dear, and think how such a marriage might benefit you."
Harold sensed that Sophia was of no mind to defend herself now. That she was an easy mark did not bother him in the least. "What can be your objection to the fine things that Eastlyn can bring to your life? You can be certain he will be generous. You will never be able to spend the allowance he will give you. You will be chatelaine of his great country homes at Braeden and Easter Hill, and there is his town house here as well. You will be in demand as a guest at every affair of importance, and there will be carriages and fine clothes and a box at the theatre."
There will also be his mistress, Sophie thought, and this time she had the good sense not to say so aloud. What she said was, "I should like to go to my room, if you please."
Over her head Harold and his father exchanged glances. It was Tremont who answered. "Of course. And you will think on what was said here, won't you, dear?"
Sophie nodded, doubting that she could think of anything else.
"Very good," the earl said, satisfied. "Someone will inquire from time to time as to the direction of your thinking."
That was when Sophie understood that she would not be leaving her bedchamber anytime soon.
* * *
The widow Sawyer was apprised of Eastlyn's presence in her home as she was making preparations to leave for a ride in the park. It was rather late in the afternoon for such an outing, but she had it on good authority that the Viscount Dunsmore often made his way along the shaded paths at this hour, and Mrs. Sawyer was of a desire to make his acquaintance. Eastlyn, however, could not be gotten rid of if he was not prepared to go, and he had already been informed that she was at home. To punish him for the effrontery of calling upon her without notice of his intention, Mrs. Sawyer decided
Tremont was perfectly aware that the color had drained from Sophia's face. He imagined that if he grazed her with his fingertips, he would find the touch of her to be quite cold, perhaps capable of burning him with its iciness. It did not stop him from continuing. There were things that must be said, and he was a firm believer in being cruel to be kind. "The reason any funds remain in the family coffers, Sophia, owes much to the fact that Providence finally cornered your father. I have no quarrel with the God who struck Frederick down and made him bedfast. No less compelling a tragedy could have kept him from squandering what was left of his fortune."
Sophia felt the numbness around her heart spread to other internal organs. She no longer noticed the queer little tightness in her stomach or the constriction in her lungs. The coursing of her blood carried the effects quickly so that in moments it was no easy thing to feel the tips of her fingers or toes. When a dark veil fluttered at the periphery of her vision, Sophie thought she might faint. It was contemplating the very ignominy of that event that made her struggle to draw air.
Tremont was still not finished. He clasped his hands behind his back and rocked slightly forward on the balls of his feet. "You are to be commended for nursing your father in the final years of his life. No one can fault you for the care and devotion you gave him; yet it is also true that the estate fell further into disrepair during that time, the rents decreased, and there was even less income than before. I have seen the accounts, Sophia. If you had so many fine schemes for the management of the land and the farmers and the crops, the time to put them into practice would have been then, don't you think? That you upbraid us now for looking for another solution seems rather ill considered. We had no part in creating this opportunity with the marquess, but it would be foolish in the extreme if we were not to seize it. You would do well to reflect upon your refusal, m'dear, and think how such a marriage might benefit you."
Harold sensed that Sophia was of no mind to defend herself now. That she was an easy mark did not bother him in the least. "What can be your objection to the fine things that Eastlyn can bring to your life? You can be certain he will be generous. You will never be able to spend the allowance he will give you. You will be chatelaine of his great country homes at Braeden and Easter Hill, and there is his town house here as well. You will be in demand as a guest at every affair of importance, and there will be carriages and fine clothes and a box at the theatre."
There will also be his mistress, Sophie thought, and this time she had the good sense not to say so aloud. What she said was, "I should like to go to my room, if you please."
Over her head Harold and his father exchanged glances. It was Tremont who answered. "Of course. And you will think on what was said here, won't you, dear?"
Sophie nodded, doubting that she could think of anything else.
"Very good," the earl said, satisfied. "Someone will inquire from time to time as to the direction of your thinking."
That was when Sophie understood that she would not be leaving her bedchamber anytime soon.
* * *
The widow Sawyer was apprised of Eastlyn's presence in her home as she was making preparations to leave for a ride in the park. It was rather late in the afternoon for such an outing, but she had it on good authority that the Viscount Dunsmore often made his way along the shaded paths at this hour, and Mrs. Sawyer was of a desire to make his acquaintance. Eastlyn, however, could not be gotten rid of if he was not prepared to go, and he had already been informed that she was at home. To punish him for the effrontery of calling upon her without notice of his intention, Mrs. Sawyer decided
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