The Courtesan's Daughter (40 page)

It might do England some good as well.

So many things to be considered, and she had the luxury of time to consider them. The house was quiet. Mark, John, and the boys were riding in Hyde Park; Caro and Ash had departed for Chaldon Hall, the impressive home of the second Earl of Ashdon begun during Elizabeth’s reign and quite nicely maintained and improved upon since, but also and not less important, the favored residence of Westlin. She anticipated that Westlin would be remaining in Town for the near future. How delicious. Caro and Ash would have such fun ruining
his
furniture for a change.

Caro married to a man she adored and with a home of her own on Curzon Street to be decorated to her tastes, Markham out of the trouble simmering in Paris and soon off to New York to learn that there were more reliable ways of measuring a man than by the stiffness of his cravat or his capacity for brandy, Anne and Staverton to be married in a few short weeks … life was going to be singularly lacking in adventure or even entertainment.

She could acquire a man, but it was a rare man who could entertain, let alone provide any sort of adventure.

She was becoming rather jaded, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. Freddy brought in a pot of chocolate as she sat contemplating the quiet order of her imminently boring life.

“You’ll change this room? No more need for white now, is there?” Freddy asked as he set the chocolate pot down on a butler’s tray near the fire. She liked tea well enough, but there was nothing like a nice dose of chocolate on a drizzly late afternoon.

Westlin had taken his precious blanc de Chine cup home with him last night. The entire point of the white salon had been removed with the cup.

“Yes, I was thinking rose damask for the walls, in honor of Caro’s spectacular victory in the Hyde House rose damask dressing room. Such a night should be celebrated and memorialized, don’t you think?”

“Rose? That’s a sort of pink?”

“Between pink and red,” Sophia said, inviting Freddy to sit. They were alone on this floor of the house at this particular hour of the afternoon and as no one would witness the familiarity they enjoyed, no harm could be done to either of their reputations. “I could reupholster. I saw a lovely blush silk damask last week.”

“What else? Without the white cup …” Freddy shrugged.

“I could buy a collection of French porcelain,” she suggested. “French porcelain goes well with rose.”

“You could buy? Why should you buy?”

Sophia smiled. “It is more fun when someone else does the buying.”

“Well, figure out what you’d like, so’s you’re prepared when asked.”

“You have a lot of confidence in me, Freddy.”

“Just experience, Countess. Oh, there’s the door. Excuse me, back to butlering.”

A minute or two passed before Freddy opened the door and, without asking if she was
in
or not, ushered in, of all people, Lady Louisa Kirkland. For once, she was without her cousin, Lady Amelia Caversham and her chaperone, Lady Jordan. That spoke volumes. Sophia couldn’t help but be the slightest bit intrigued.

“Lady Louisa Kirkland to see you, Lady Dalby,” Freddy announced, winking gleefully.

The old sot. He probably thought he was doing her a favor by keeping her busy with a spoiled and sullen young woman who was reliably shy on the proper manner of conversing with a woman of her stature and experience, most particularly her experience.

Sophia could feel herself rising to the occasion almost immediately, her spine stiffening, her chin lifting, and her sense of adventure waking up. Freddy, on his better days and her worse ones, knew her better than she knew herself. Thankfully, she very seldom had worse days.

Sophia rose to her feet to greet her young guest, her recent conversation with Anne perhaps making her too aware of Louisa’s vibrant ginger hair, and then motioned Louisa into a seat.

It was to the girl’s credit that she came straight to the point.

“Lady Dalby, thank you for seeing me.”

“Not at all. Can I offer you a cup of chocolate?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Upon which Freddy made a quiet exit to give the ladies privacy while he waited for a footman to fetch another cup. With the room to themselves, Louisa wasted no time. Sophia found herself more intrigued by the moment.

“I find myself in a bit of a dilemma, Lady Dalby. I don’t quite know how to go about … fixing it.”

Sophia merely raised her eyebrows in pleasant curiosity and kept stirring her chocolate.

“I,” Louisa said, a faint blush staining her cheeks. She was a stunningly beautiful woman, which was likely the chief source of her troubles. Beautiful women were wont to stumble about, expecting their beauty to save them from all sorts of misadventures. Unfortunately, the opposite was more likely to be true, though certain misadventures could have rather pleasant results, at least to judge by her decidedly vast experience. “I … am certain that I don’t have to tell
you
about … well, about my pearls. About the entire pearl evening that took place at Hyde House two nights ago.”

“No,” Sophia said in quiet amusement. Really, the girl was most entertaining, “you don’t have to tell
me.
”

“I don’t know how it happened exactly, that is, I don’t know all the details,” she said, gaining speed and confidence as she progressed. Charming, really. The one thing that could be reliably said about Louisa Kirkland was that she consistently displayed a certain boldness of character. It was the one character trait Sophia admired above all others. Definitely in the girl’s favor. “But I was given a rather lovely strand of pearls by my grandmother, and somehow Lord Dutton got them from my father, Lord Melverley, and attempted to give them to your daughter.”

“Well, my dear, Caro doesn’t have your pearls. Why come to me? ”

Which of course was a complete lie. Sophia knew
exactly
why this exotically beautiful and confused young woman had come to her. That she was a woman who had lost her pearls? Sophia could not possibly have been more sympathetic.

“I would like, that is, I noticed, we
all
noticed, how well things have gone for Lady Caroline and I was wondering … I was thinking that you might … be … able …”

The poor dear was stuttering to a complete halt. As much fun as it was to watch her stumble about, Sophia drew the line at outright cruelty. She was periously close to the line now and cruelty, unless absolutely necessary, was not a character trait she enjoyed. At least not too excessively.

“You would like your pearls back, wouldn’t you?” Sophia said, setting down her cup.

“Yes,” Louisa said stoutly. “I want my pearls back.”

“Then, darling, we shall simply have to get them for you.”