“It is the most wonderful thing in the world, riding to hounds—after the theater, of course.”
“Indeed,” he agreed. “My happiest moments have been spent riding neck or nothing over the countryside. Excellent sport! Perhaps you also shoot.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head firmly. “I could not bear to slaughter defenseless birds.”
“My feelings precisely,” he said. “How many interests we share!”
Just then a strong blast of cold wind whipped through the square. Sophie was obliged to duck her head and lean it close to Ferguson’s breast until the icy air had swirled past them. When she raised it again, she discovered a thickly swaddled figure hurrying toward them. Over a plaid greatcoat, a muffler was wound around his chin, nearly obscuring his features, but the vivid blue eyes that peered out of a bright red face were unmistakable.
“Ah, Cousin!” Albert called. “What a pleasure to find you out on such a day! Ferguson, sir, we’re not acquainted, but I’d made up my mind to seek you out. We are both friends of Spencer Millard. My name is de Lisle.”
Ferguson hesitated, obviously searching his mind for the name. “It is a pleasure, sir.”
He was obliged to disentangle his right arm from Sophie’s in order to shake hands properly, and the moment the task had been accomplished, Albert slipped Sophie’s hand through his arm and adroitly maneuvered Ferguson out of the way. His triumph was short lived, however, as they were attacked by another burst of freezing wind. They had barely straightened up again when they were hailed by Jonathan, who came striding up to them.
He was hatless and wearing a new greatcoat with an extra cape, which lent a wonderfully stylish air to his figure.
“It’s growing colder by the second, Sophie,” he said. “Come inside, all of you, before you take a chill. We’ve something hot for you to drink.”
There was a moment during which Ferguson and Albert considered him hostilely. But then another icy blast shook the thickets around them, and everyone scampered toward Vaile House, huddling inside their coats as the wind scattered a light powdering of snow across their shoulders.
When they were safely inside the warm vestibule, Sophie retired to a small antechamber where Anna removed her coat and bonnet, and exchanged her wet boots for a dry pair. She rejoined her guests in the yellow salon and found Jeanette, Lady Englewood, and the Bingham girls in happy conversation with the young men.
Ferguson was sitting on a sofa between Lady Biskup and Lady Englewood, chatting animatedly with his hostess and pointedly avoiding Kathleen’s eyes. She, in turn, was talking to Albert de Lisle, emitting little forced squeaks of laughter from time to time. Jeanette and Elizabeth stood near the fireplace with Jonathan, who was lounging against the mantelpiece, drinking in the heat of a crackling blaze. Sophie greeted the others and went quickly to the fireplace to join the party there.
“Ah, Sophie,” Jeanette said, turning to smile at her. “We are speaking of the discomfort this storm is sure to bring. Snow and cold winds are anticipated before nightfall. Fortunately, the Princess Hollande’s public rooms are always comfortable—winter or summer—but my mother is considering sending our regrets. You must urge her to reconsider.”
“Oh, yes!” Sophie exclaimed, clasping her hands and turning to Lady Englewood. “Please, Aunt Blanche! My evening will be quite spoiled if Jeanette is not there.”
Lady Englewood raised her eyebrows. “Well,” she began, “it will all be most difficult—the danger of wet slippers and such. Besides, so many of our friends went to their country seats for the holidays and won’t be back in town until the end of January.” She began ticking them off. “The Greystones went home to The Court. As did the Beckhams and the—”
Rather than listen to her tick off an endless list, Jonathan smiled at Jeanette and said, “I spoke
“Indeed,” he agreed. “My happiest moments have been spent riding neck or nothing over the countryside. Excellent sport! Perhaps you also shoot.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head firmly. “I could not bear to slaughter defenseless birds.”
“My feelings precisely,” he said. “How many interests we share!”
Just then a strong blast of cold wind whipped through the square. Sophie was obliged to duck her head and lean it close to Ferguson’s breast until the icy air had swirled past them. When she raised it again, she discovered a thickly swaddled figure hurrying toward them. Over a plaid greatcoat, a muffler was wound around his chin, nearly obscuring his features, but the vivid blue eyes that peered out of a bright red face were unmistakable.
“Ah, Cousin!” Albert called. “What a pleasure to find you out on such a day! Ferguson, sir, we’re not acquainted, but I’d made up my mind to seek you out. We are both friends of Spencer Millard. My name is de Lisle.”
Ferguson hesitated, obviously searching his mind for the name. “It is a pleasure, sir.”
He was obliged to disentangle his right arm from Sophie’s in order to shake hands properly, and the moment the task had been accomplished, Albert slipped Sophie’s hand through his arm and adroitly maneuvered Ferguson out of the way. His triumph was short lived, however, as they were attacked by another burst of freezing wind. They had barely straightened up again when they were hailed by Jonathan, who came striding up to them.
He was hatless and wearing a new greatcoat with an extra cape, which lent a wonderfully stylish air to his figure.
“It’s growing colder by the second, Sophie,” he said. “Come inside, all of you, before you take a chill. We’ve something hot for you to drink.”
There was a moment during which Ferguson and Albert considered him hostilely. But then another icy blast shook the thickets around them, and everyone scampered toward Vaile House, huddling inside their coats as the wind scattered a light powdering of snow across their shoulders.
When they were safely inside the warm vestibule, Sophie retired to a small antechamber where Anna removed her coat and bonnet, and exchanged her wet boots for a dry pair. She rejoined her guests in the yellow salon and found Jeanette, Lady Englewood, and the Bingham girls in happy conversation with the young men.
Ferguson was sitting on a sofa between Lady Biskup and Lady Englewood, chatting animatedly with his hostess and pointedly avoiding Kathleen’s eyes. She, in turn, was talking to Albert de Lisle, emitting little forced squeaks of laughter from time to time. Jeanette and Elizabeth stood near the fireplace with Jonathan, who was lounging against the mantelpiece, drinking in the heat of a crackling blaze. Sophie greeted the others and went quickly to the fireplace to join the party there.
“Ah, Sophie,” Jeanette said, turning to smile at her. “We are speaking of the discomfort this storm is sure to bring. Snow and cold winds are anticipated before nightfall. Fortunately, the Princess Hollande’s public rooms are always comfortable—winter or summer—but my mother is considering sending our regrets. You must urge her to reconsider.”
“Oh, yes!” Sophie exclaimed, clasping her hands and turning to Lady Englewood. “Please, Aunt Blanche! My evening will be quite spoiled if Jeanette is not there.”
Lady Englewood raised her eyebrows. “Well,” she began, “it will all be most difficult—the danger of wet slippers and such. Besides, so many of our friends went to their country seats for the holidays and won’t be back in town until the end of January.” She began ticking them off. “The Greystones went home to The Court. As did the Beckhams and the—”
Rather than listen to her tick off an endless list, Jonathan smiled at Jeanette and said, “I spoke
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