The Wicked Widow and the Jinxed Jilter

Part 13

Sophie began to understand why he thought she might need her nails when their trek through one of the meadows ended in front of a wall. She had seen it coming for a while and she had supposed they would change their course, but they had not. She admitted to being fascinated and was prepared to ask sarcastically if he expected her to jump over.

They stopped directly before it. Allingham released her arm, threw his coat over the wall, moved to her other side and lifted her up. This all happened within a second, when she was still wondering if she could be sarcastic. Suddenly she found herself sitting on the wall. She saw him climb over effortlessly and look at her expectantly.

"Well?" he said. "Are you going to stay up there forever?"

"I did not ask to be lifted up," she said haughtily to disguise her amazement at her complacency.

"I daresay we could have made a detour towards the stile and I daresay you could even have climbed, but for that to happen with any sort of useful speed we would have had to wait until the bull noticed us." Lifting her had been quicker than starting a discussion, just like mentioning a bull would be quicker than asking her if he was allowed to help her down.

She narrowed her eyes. "Which bull?"

Allingham peered over the wall. "I see something just coming up the slope."

Sophie glanced back. She wasted no time dropping herself on the safe side of the wall.

He grinned at her. "Do not worry. It was only a cow. There is no bull."

"Why did you say so then?" she cried, clutching her hands to her chest as if that could make her heart beat less. The thought of a bull coming after her had been frightening. She felt very silly now.

"You looked so comfortable sitting that you would not have come off that wall otherwise." He thought that perhaps she had been glad to rest her feet for a few seconds.

"Well, it was rather --" She had been reflecting on how she had got there, but it was not good to say anything about that move. Her resolve to stay silent about it did not last long, a mere second perhaps. "You could have lifted me off."

Allingham looked intrigued. Some things obviously turned out to be better than expected. He would agree. "You did not ask to be lifted up, but you would ask to be lifted off?"

Sophie ignored his question. She was well aware of her inconsistency and needed no reminder. "What is lurking in this field?" She would not set a foot forward until she knew. It was a smaller field and contrary to the previous one it did not slope downwards out of sight, so she could see all of it. There were no animals, as far as she could see, but that might not mean anything.

"Only me." He grinned at his own answer. "I took this route to be quick and because I forgot you wear skirts, not to have arguments with you at each and every wall. Yes, there will be more walls. I plan to lift you onto every single one of them to save time. If you plan to use your nails on me, I will run ahead and leave you here. You do not know where we keep the bulls. I do. The choice is yours."

"I was going to call you a cad, but that you forgot I wear skirts sounds too stupid to be untrue." Sophie walked ahead of him, pulling her gloves back on.

Allingham dropped Sophie off at the edge of the parsonage garden and then quickly hurried home. Aware of the fact that his soiled coat and trousers would not pass muster, he ran up the service stairs. His housekeeper Mrs. Hope was reading outside his apartments, as if she had been expecting him to come to them via a circuitous route. "My Lord, your mother has come," she said in a low voice, standing up.

"I saw the carriage. Is she alone?" he asked breathlessly. If his father had come, he would not care so much, but he would not have put it past her to bring her friend Lady Hartley.

"Yes, she is alone, but..."

"She has plans," he deduced with a sigh. And the plans meant no good for him.

"What did you do?" She looked at his trousers, took the coat from his arm and unfolded it. It was very dirty, as if he had lain in the mud. He must have slipped somewhere.

Allingham felt like a small boy about to receive a reprimand. "A lady sat on it," he confessed.

"A lady?" She wondered about the lady's identity, but there was no need to ask, was there? He would have named everyone else by name. One was always only silent about the ones that mattered.

He feared she mistook him. "I could not let her sit on the ground. I laid down my coat for her."

She was certain there had been a good reason for sitting down with the lady, or indeed for being anywhere with her. He could have made up an excuse if it had not been something innocent. "No, but with the weather of the past week, was it sensible to have her sit on the ground at all?"

"I took her in the wrong direction without asking how long she had walked already," he confessed. "It made her a bit tired, so we sat down and then my parents' carriage passed."

"And you made her a little more tired by running after it." He had not arrived very long after his mother.

"She insisted that I go home. I would have waited a bit longer to give her feet some rest."

That was interesting, Mrs. Hope thought. Lady Sophie had insisted that he find out what was going on. Could she be interested in the outcome of these plans? Perhaps this meant some opposition for his mother. That was very interesting indeed, since Lady Maye would obviously not be expecting to be thwarted. She would count on dealing with her son only.

"Did your mother see you sitting with a lady?" She did not think Lady Maye had, because she would have arrived in a much worse mood.

"I do not think she did. Besides, my lady friend hid behind a tree when the carriage approached. Which was not very effective, but at least she tried."

"Your lady friend?" she smiled. She already knew it was Lady Sophie.

"What else could I call her?"

"So she hid. I do not yet know if that is good or bad," said Mrs. Hope. Did she really have to hide? Or did she simply not want to be seen with Lord Allingham? "Why do you not get dressed? Should I send a boy over to the parsonage to remind them they were invited to dinner? I told Lady Maye you were not dining alone."

"Bless you, Mrs. Hope," he said with a grin. "That would be an excellent idea."

She tapped his arm. "After what you did for Sarah and me, it is my duty."

"It is not necessary, but very much appreciated."

Sophie had just changed clothes when the message from Allingham Hall was delivered for Mrs. Warden. Louisa folded the note open and read it. If she had seen Sophie delivered to the parsonage by a man in shirtsleeves, she had not mentioned it and neither had Frederick. Both had been out of sight when Sophie had entered the house. Louisa now looked directly at her before she spoke. "We have been invited to dine at Allingham Hall this evening. Mrs. Hope just sent me a note to remind us emphatically of our prior engagement. Odd. I did not know of one. Did you?"

"It must be made to look prior," Sophie supposed.

"Why is that?"

"Lady Maye must have arrived." Sophie did not dare to raise her eyes, afraid to betray her greater knowledge of the subject. "We would otherwise never have been ordered over at such short notice."

"Lady Maye! Why can it not be Henry wishing to be better acquainted with you?" Louisa had never known she could grow so wicked as to enjoy this game.

"I am merely guessing. Why should he invite you and Frederick along as well, if he wishes to talk to me alone? It seems logical to me that in such a party you would not settle for having to talk to Frederick. You can do so at home."

"Perhaps because that is the proper thing to do?" Louisa thought Sophie might need this amused reminder. The proper thing would of course take much more time than those walks.

Sophie looked impatient. Everyone could pretend to be proper, but not everyone could be it. She bit back a rant on the subject. "Ask him when we arrive."

"But what do you propose to do with Mrs. Burgess?" They had an older lady coming to dinner themselves. "We cannot cancel her visit anymore."

"We...take her? On no account should we not go."

"I really do not want to imagine what Mrs. Burgess would think of our carelessness with regard to invitations, let alone Lady Maye. We will appear to have forgotten at least one engagement. This might seriously offend."

"Lord Allingham is inviting us, so Lady Maye's opinion is of no consequence to us. We do not even officially know she has arrived and she cannot know we were never coming to dinner. As for Mrs. Burgess, is it not an honour to be invited to eat at the Hall?" Sophie tried. "She cannot mind very much and if he insists on inviting us at the very last moment, he can never object to our bringing our guest."

"I am sure Henry would not object to our bringing Mrs. Burgess. He knows her." It would even cut the party up in perfect twosomes if they could get Lady Maye to talk to Mrs. Burgess. She would take it upon herself to amuse Frederick, despite Sophie's naïve supposition that married couples would want to avoid each other in company.

Louisa hesitated for a few seconds. "I must tell the boy from the Hall that we are bringing a guest. You may deal with Frederick, Sophie, and inform him of this change of plans -- and do tell him why on no account we should not go." She was not certain Frederick would be as easily convinced.

Sophie coloured at the implication. "But I am not to blame! I did not know of this invitation!"

"Then how do you know about Lady Maye?" There was more to this than met the eye.

Sophie gave a reluctant sigh. "We saw the carriage. It had to be his father or his mother. We would not be asked to act as a buffer for his father, would we?"

Louisa paused by the door. "We? His? Were you out with Henry? I thought you were going for a walk?"

She did not say she had seen them return, surprisingly not to the front gate, but to the fence that surrounded the garden, where he had swung her over as if he had practice. Sophie had evidently had less practice in finding a firm footing, because she had landed on all fours and given Henry a tongue-lashing that had not impressed him at all, by the sight of it. He had gestured impatiently and run off, which was now understandable, given his mother's arrival.

Louisa had been a trifle bewildered upon seeing Sophie being dropped into the garden in such an improper manner and she had almost gone to inquire what had passed. She would have, had they parted with a kiss, but some good-natured scoffing was far less cause for concern. If she could ignore the fact that Henry had lifted Sophie over the fence, not much had happened.

After having given the matter much thought, Louisa had decided to keep silent about it. Sophie was wise enough to deal with it on her own, not to mention that she would in all likeliness pass it off as some sort of lesson in farming methods again. It might even be true. They had come from the fields.

"I met him by accident," Sophie said.

Now that was definitely not true. "Again. Lucky lady."

Sophie watched her leave the room and she sagged back into her chair with a deep sigh. Her accidental meetings did not sound very believable.

Part 14

Frederick had not opposed the plan. He had merely snickered in a manner not befitting a parson and he had even taken it upon himself to brief Mrs. Burgess on the situation during their walk, notably on the identity of Miss Rutherford who would soon turn out to be Lady Sophie, which might surprise her.

Sophie and Louisa followed them. Sophie had paid some special attention to her clothes and hair and it had drawn a smirk from Louisa. Lady Maye might be a bad judge of character when it came to her son, but her preoccupation with marriage might ensure that she noticed the attractiveness of an unattached lady staying so near her son's home and it might make her realise that no gentleman would fail to notice the same. Even Frederick had muttered something about full battle dress.

"Tell me, who was the scarcely clad gentleman who walked with you this morning?" Louisa was all innocence.

"None other than the gentleman whose identity you had already guessed," Sophie replied, sounding more calm than she felt. She did not know she had been seen.

"Why the peculiar state of his clothing?"

"Peculiar? I did not notice that it was either peculiar or scarce." She had noticed, but she did not seem to care much when she was with him. They conversed and she felt comfortable in his company. He would undoubtedly have some comment to make if she derided his attire again. He would say he was always the same.

"He did not wear his coat."

"He did! But then I sat on his coat when I needed to sit down and it got dirty. He could have worn a dirty coat and then you would have asked why it was dirty. I suppose I should not have sat on it, to avoid all these questions." Sophie reflected that it was particularly annoying that Louisa was all these questions that her conscience should have asked and that she was only asking them because she was amused.

"An impromptu picnic?"

"Sore feet. I suppose you would have preferred to tend to my blisters." She was all sarcasm again.

Not really, Louisa thought. "I am only curious and trying to assess the situation. Could he not have walked around the garden?"

"No, he could not," Sophie replied tersely. "He was in a hurry. I do not know why you are so excited. You must know that country gentlemen have a peculiar idea of gallantry. He helped me over the fence, as you evidently saw. That is all."

"Strange things are happening." Especially if Sophie submitted herself to somebody's hurry in that manner.

It was not country gentlemen who had peculiar ideas of gallantry, it was infatuated gentlemen. Among those there was a special class -- infatuated gentlemen who had been encouraged to some extent.

For a moment Louisa dwelt on the class of infatuated ladies, but she did not yet know whether Sophie belonged to it.

Sophie did not want to go into detail about the strange happenings. "Indeed and we shall now have a hand in saving my sister from marriage to him."

On no account should they not have dinner at the Hall, Louisa recalled. Evidently at least two people were afraid that something was going to happen at the Hall that evening. Why was she the only one who did not take this new engagement scheme very seriously? Henry may not have had a good reason to protest on previous occasions, but he would have one now. She had a suspicion that he preferred one sister over the other. A strong preference could make him act. She was sure of it.

Louisa thought her friend was still deluded, if she mentioned her sister. "Sophie, is that what this is about? Your sister? Why do you want to save her?"

"He told me what he did to his previous fiancées." It was obvious that the same would happen to her sister.

"If I recall correctly, it was not Henry himself who compromised them," Louisa said cautiously.

"He sold their virtues for bottles of wine. Of course he was involved," Sophie said with a dismissive gesture. "Although it must be said they were not very virtuous if they could be corrupted so easily. I do not know about Catherine's susceptibility, but I should like to prevent her ruin if I can."

Perhaps, Louisa mused, Sophie would really like Henry for herself. She might even come to the realisation that it was a perfect way to prevent it.

As they were shown in, Sophie could see Lady Maye prick up her ears at her name. She was recognised.

Lord Allingham introduced them to his mother all over again. If the subdued splendour of the entrance and the hall had surprised her, looking nothing like an extension of the stables, Allingham's impeccable appearance stunned her. These were no farmer's clothes. There was not a speck of dirt on him either, as far as she could see.

Lady Maye was a handsome woman almost as tall as she was, but Sophie was glad to have the advantage. She did not know where to focus her attention -- on Lady Maye, on Lord Allingham or on the room. She was so fortunate as to be engaged in conversation by Her Ladyship almost instantly, for Lord Allingham betrayed too much interest in her hair and if she reciprocated the attention others would notice.

"How interesting to find you here, Lady Sophie. I was talking to your mother Lady Hartley only yesterday. She did not mention you were here, even if I informed her of my plans." It sounded vaguely accusing, as if Lady Hartley had sent her eldest daughter ahead without waiting for Lady Maye's scheme to be carried out.

Sophie smiled politely. "Her memory is not as good as it used to be, I am afraid. It may also be that I did not tell her I was going here." She saw that Allingham had strategically seated himself next to his mother, presumably so she would not talk to him. She did not think he looked very happy. Perhaps she could promise him another portrait to cheer him up.

"What are you doing in the area, Lady Sophie?"

"I am staying with my cousin, Mr. Warden." She inclined her head politely towards Frederick and saw that Allingham looked as if he could not understand why his mother had not remembered this information.

Lady Maye looked at the Wardens for the first time since the introductions. Perhaps the Wardens had risen in her estimation now. "Yet Lady Hartley never told me a relative of hers was living in this neighbourhood."

Sophie did not think someone as haughty as Lady Maye would be impressed upon hearing a friend's relative was a country parson. She might not even remember the information. "My mother tends to concentrate on those directly before her. She may have forgotten that it was my father to whom Mr. Warden was related. I am sure she did not dwell on me too much either, what with my not being a very troublesome girl." She smiled politely, knowing she was no longer a girl and still troublesome, according to some.

As soon as there was a pause, Lord Allingham spoke to the older lady Mrs. Burgess and Louisa joined in the conversation.

Sophie was still being scrutinised by Lady Maye, for unclear reasons. This rather prevented her from scrutinising the son.

Fortunately they were soon called in to dinner, where she was seated next to Allingham, which was not wholly unexpected.

"I am happy that the invitation was not forgotten," he said to Sophie as soon as he got the chance. Mrs. Hope's plan had worked. Bless her for that. He had also counted on Sophie to use all her powers of persuasion in case the Wardens objected. Fortunately Mrs. Hope had written a terrific note.

"But of course not," she said smoothly. "We would never pass up the opportunity to see how you behave in other settings."

"Or dress?" he asked in a low voice. He had not missed her rather startled glance upon entering. He could indeed dress properly.

"Henry, what would you say if I invited Lady Hartley and Lady Catherine for next week?" his mother asked across the length of the table. She sat there as if she was the mistress of the house. Her son's whispers to a female guest were not to her liking.

"Why are you asking me?" he said, thinking she meant to invite them to her own house. He had been avoiding her as much as possible and had not yet spoken to her about her intentions in coming here. She had merely said she had regretted his quick departure from town. While he had not believed that answer, he had not yet pressed on.

"You must know I mean to invite them here."

Allingham looked stunned. "Here?" Was he no longer safe in his own home? Trouble seemed to follow him hither.

"Where else? It will liven the place up. Are the Courtneys in residence?" It was obvious to everyone at the table that Lady Maye was going to carry on regardless of her son's feelings, however apparent and predictable they were to everyone else. Even old Mrs. Burgess looked a little fearful.

"I have no idea," he said politely. Although he was tempted, he did not see how he could openly call his mother to order. It was troublesome, however. Not only was his mother going to invite Lady Hartley and her daughter, but she was also thinking of asking the Courtneys, a family who lived nearby. Their proximity had never been a reason for him to befriend them. He would have to put his foot down in private later and prevent them from being invited.

Sophie could not believe his calmness and she slowly changed colours, from a healthy pink to pale to deep red. He ought to protest. He was the master of the house, not his mother. In his face she thought she could detect that he was displeased, but he lacked the spirit required to cross his mother. He was biddable and gentle, unfortunately.

It occurred to her all of a sudden that a biddable husband who did not dare to cross her was tantamount to her coveted independence. It might be worth considering. Lord Allingham's not having any sort of temper or spine suited her. She did not respect him for how he reacted to his mother, but she realised she could take advantage of the same trait.

His weakness also awakened some protective instinct within her. She could help him stand up to his mother. If he could not do it himself, she would do it for him. If he was so easily betrothed to girls his mother chose, he might be as easily betrothed to a girl Sophie chose.

Rather breathlessly she examined the idea. What would she see of him during the day? He would be out on the estate. She would see him at meals, when he would undoubtedly tell her she was beautiful. That did not seem like such a bad fate, really, especially after she had admitted to herself that she was lonely. If her husband was in her way at all, he would do as she said. It would not really be different from not having a husband at all, except that she would sometimes have company.

"You have not dined with the Courtneys?" asked Lady Maye, making this sound like a grave oversight.

Sophie was almost resolved to speak, if only because Lady Maye deserved to be thwarted. Nevertheless, it was a bit impossible to voice her intentions in the middle of a conversation. She had to wait for a good moment. Meanwhile, she studied her neighbour. He was gripping his cutlery rather tight, but he was eating normally. Her interference was definitely required. She quite forgot to eat.

"I have not dined with the Courtneys," Allingham answered quietly. Something was brewing beside him, but he did not know what. He supposed she thought him a weakling again. Sometimes he glanced aside, but apart from a look of disapproval and determination he did not see much.

"Then it is time. I shall send a note and we can have a dinner party here on Monday." To Lady Maye it was a settled thing. It would have been a settled thing even if her son had voiced an objection.

Allingham may be wanting to avoid an unpleasant situation, but Sophie had no such qualms. She would not be surprising the Wardens if she misbehaved. They might be expecting it of her after the last few days. She kicked Allingham under the table. His reaction was an interesting mix of everything, from shock to gratitude to humiliation to curiosity. Her eyes ordered him to do something. She did not expect much and indeed nothing happened.

"My son is about to become engaged," Lady Maye revealed.

"That is no surprise," Sophie commented under her breath. Save Mrs. Burgess, everyone at the table knew about Lady Maye's schemes. Perhaps even Mrs. Burgess knew.

"Allingham Hall will finally have a mistress."

"It sounds as if it already does." Sophie received a soft kick in return for that comment. It merely spurred her on.

"Allingham Hall will have a mistress when Lady Allingham feels like it," Allingham said mildly.

Sophie gave him an indulgent look. He was wrong if he thought his mother was even going to understand his words, let alone heed them. It was a nice, but ineffective try. His mother would still meddle. She would not leave the initiative to the potential Lady Allingham.

"Lady Allingham will have so many advantages and benefits attached to her position that you must employ a little caution," Lady Maye chided. "You must remember that eventually she shall be the Countess of Maye." This exalted position was not for everyone.

"I admit that the advantages and benefits were what reconciled me to the idea," Sophie said. She glanced around the table and thought, upon receiving a kick, that only one person understood her perfectly.

It was not Lady Maye, who thought she had found a supporter. "I am glad you do, Lady Sophie. Will you be here next week?"

"Most certainly -- if my cousin will have me for another week -- I am quite ready to meddle in the matter of Lord Allingham's domestic infelicity." She looked at him reassuringly.

Part 15

"What was that all about?" asked Frederick Warden when the ladies had retired.

"What do you mean, Mr. Warden?" Allingham asked as he poured a glass of port for his friend. He poured some water for himself, since on no account did he want to be accused of smelling of port.

"And that!" Frederick indicated the glass. "Why will Sophie meddle in your life? What did that mean?" Nobody had clarified anything and the conversation had changed to something else. The parties involved apparently knew precisely what had been discussed, but Frederick had not understood everything.

"I have no idea," Allingham said, perhaps not so truthfully. "But I would prefer Lady Sophie's meddling over my mother's. And she does not like gentlemen who smell of port." He had had a satisfying kicking session with Lady Sophie under the table. In the beginning the kicks had been meaningful, but towards the end they had been merely for fun, he would say. In case she wished to converse in private he did not want her to smell any port. He did not think they would be given that opportunity, but one had to be prepared.

"You do not have a secret understanding?" Frederick was not sure what had transpired during their walks. Louisa had told him that the two had met again. Once was possible, twice was too much. He did not see why there would be any need for a secret. Louisa and he would understand it very well and he believed they had also been encouraging enough.

"That is apparently not required."

"You do not sound concerned." Frederick observed his friend's small smile. His mother was here, full of plans to ruin his future, yet he was able to smile.

"As I said, when someone feels like becoming Lady Allingham after having seen me in my full glory -- sarcastically speaking -- I suppose there is nothing I can do to stop her." He raised his glass of water to his lips and took a sip. No more port.

It did indeed appear to Frederick that Sophie was determined to act and that Henry was determined not to. "You will not even send one of your friends her way?"

"No, but even if I did he would be unsuccessful. The lady has her methods." He could imagine her putting her nails to good use - or perhaps her feet. There was nothing wrong with her feet either.

"And so do you, apparently," Frederick concluded. "Is she aware of them?"

"My methods?" Allingham asked innocently. He did not think they were any worse than being unfailingly polite in response to insults and sometimes being practical rather than proper.

"How are you manipulating her? Does she know?"

"No manipulating required with Lady Sophie. She is forward enough on her own. I am merely taking advantage of it. She thinks I am a weakling, so she will arrange everything. I let her."

"How do you know she thinks that?" Thinking of his friend as a weakling would never have occurred to him.

"She has written it, said it, and kicked it -- and when she kicked, I thought I might as well sit back." He smiled. "I do not care if she marries me for all the wrong reasons. Far be it from me to correct her on any of those points, because she will marry me and then we will see about love."

Frederick did not think love was going to be an insurmountable problem. Not on one side, at least. "Does she know you are besotted?"

"I repeatedly tell her she is very beautiful. Does that make me besotted? I thought it was an objective judgement. She is very beautiful."

Frederick scratched his head. "Do you want to hear my objective judgement?"

"She is beautiful?"

"No, you are besotted. And she allows you to tell her this, repeatedly?" If Sophie had ever told Louisa about that, he was sure he would have heard. Instead, Sophie had deliberately kept this from them.

"She allows it now. I admit that we had some problems understanding each other in the beginning."

"In the beginning! She still thinks you are a weakling!"

"Is it not rather frightening to think otherwise?" Allingham asked.

"Why can you not simply approach her and say you love her and will she please consent to be your wife?"

"For that to be done simply, I think we would both require an understanding between us and a notion of needing a marriage partner. If she does not love me and she does not need me, I would love and need in vain. Besides, I do not need." He could run his estate without the assistance of a wife.

"Neither of you need or love, I suppose," Frederick commented. "But you would both still be quite miserable if nothing came to pass."

"But things are coming to pass. I do not need to refer to the other terms to confound the issue."

"I believe you are confounding the issue by not referring to them."

Allingham did not think he was deluding himself at all. "If you must know, during one of our conversations I outlined what my wife must be like. She mocked my demands, but --"

"Demands?"

"I have demands." He spoke calmly, but he wondered whether Sophie met his requirements and whether they had been sensible ones to have in the first place. Perhaps it was all useless, because real people turned out nothing like one had previously imagined.

"You do realise that you have just been speaking as if you have no demands whatsoever?"

"That is your interpretation. I cannot find fault with anyone's interpretation. But to return to my point, you believe I do not want to see the situation for what it really is and I am telling you, I do."

"I suppose, Sophie," Louisa whispered when the elder ladies preceded them to the drawing room. "That you mean to turn his infelicity into felicity?" That had been her best guess about the situation. Sophie had something in mind.

"Or at least prevent the reverse." She could prevent him from becoming unhappy with her sister. It would be an act of pure unselfishness.

"How are you involved in his felicity?"

Sophie did not wish to view it like that. She must appear wicked. "How can he be involved in mine? That is the question. There is something to be said for --"

Lady Maye turned and interrupted them. "Do you play, Lady Sophie?"

"Very ill. I cannot aspire to reach the standards to which you are undoubtedly accustomed," she declined, not wanting to be separated from the others as she played. There might be things she would miss. She might want to converse with Allingham about their impending betrothal.

"As the rest of the party cannot be used to the same high quality, I suppose it does not signify," Lady Maye decided. "You must play."

If Lady Maye insisted on ignoring a polite refusal, Sophie could stand her ground. "I have no intention of playing."

"Mrs. Warden plays very well," Mrs. Burgess offered, seeing an escape from an uncomfortable situation.

"Do you, Mrs. Warden?" Lady Maye fixed a sharp gaze on her. She did not like to have her plans thwarted.

"I cannot judge my own performance," Louisa said modestly.

"It is vastly better than mine," Sophie remarked. If she said she had not played since she had become a widow, it would sound as if she had grieved, which was not the case and not her intention. Still, she really had not played anything new since then, because there had not been anyone to demand a change from her old favourites.

"Then perhaps Mrs. Warden can play for us later when the gentlemen return. I hope you know some more worldly pieces and not only religious ones. My son appreciates good music." She turned to shake up the pillows on the couch, not even waiting for Louisa's assent.

"He has never betrayed that appreciation before," Louisa said to Sophie under her breath. She did not see why her husband's profession should mean that she did not know any worldly music. Really, there had been a time when she had lived with her parents and then later with Mrs. Maynard. In both households there had been plenty of different music and Frederick was not such a bore as to ban anything from his house either.

Because Lady Maye engaged Mrs. Burgess in conversation on the topic of fashion for ladies of a certain age, the two younger ladies were free to have a private chat near the pianoforte, while they made a show of searching for music sheets.

"Why are the Christmas songs still on the instrument?" Sophie wondered. It was May.

"I have no idea. We had better pick something else, something worldly. Is she not demanding?" Louisa leafed through what was on offer, which was not much. Nothing had been added since she had been here last. "She was going to force you to play, but she is fortunate that I do not mind playing."

"I cannot be forced. I had better not voice my thoughts on the woman. How could she be his mother?" Then, thinking she might betray too much concern for Allingham, she changed the subject. "Has nobody been here since Christmas?" Surprisingly this proof of his loneliness pleased her. Yes, her interference was definitely required.

"I do not think there were any ladies among the guests, or perhaps none who played. I think I am going to have to do this from memory. You will not have to turn my pages. You will be free to sit by whoever you like," Louisa said with a significant smile.

"Superb," Sophie said sarcastically. "Mrs. Burgess or Frederick sound excellent." She was not going to give Louisa what she expected.

"Mrs. Warden has agreed to play for us," Lady Maye said to her son when the gentlemen joined them. They had not stayed away long.

Lord Allingham looked as if he was not certain that Mrs. Warden had not been forced, but he thanked her politely nonetheless. He shot a look at Sophie, wondering why she was not playing.

"Will you turn her pages, Henry?" his mother ordered.

He looked startled. "I do not think that is a very good idea. My music master did a very bad job on me." He could barely read notes and would not be able to follow the music on paper, especially not if he would much rather sit here.

Louisa came to his assistance. She would not force him to stand with her, especially when it was not even necessary. "I play from memory, My Lady. There are no pages to turn."

Out of his mother's sight he gave her a grateful wink. Sophie caught it and she was very confused at this sign of rebellion. She watched as Allingham accompanied Louisa to the instrument and they exchanged a few words. Then he left her again and seated himself between Frederick and Sophie, a little closer to the latter.

"You play well, Mrs. Warden," Lady Maye remarked when Louisa returned. "If not a terribly fashionable piece."

"I do not have terribly fashionable pieces in my collection," Allingham said.

Considering that the word collection was hardly appropriate for half a dozen sheets, Sophie suppressed a snort. They had been sitting in silence as Louisa played, but it had taken too long for her. She had felt a bit restless and was now glad to hear there were no fashionable pieces stowed away in a drawer.

"Are you not playing more, Mrs. Warden?" Her Ladyship inquired.

"I was requested not to," she replied politely. Henry had asked her to return as soon as she could, so that they might have some conversation. She supposed he would want to converse with Sophie.

Lady Maye shot an inquisitive look at her son, who nodded. "I asked for her best piece, not more. It is not fair to ask Mrs. Warden to entertain us all evening."

As Lady Maye questioned Louisa about her repertoire, Allingham turned to Sophie. "Why were you not forced to play?"

"Some of us cannot be forced," she replied with an arch smile, referring to the fact that he was not one of those people.

He understood her very well, but he ignored it. "Then you are not forced to meddle?"

Sophie was still smiling archly, the expression frozen onto her features. It was harder to confess than to meddle. "The benefits of meddling are such that I am undertaking the venture with more than a modicum of free will."

Allingham stared at her. He did not yet see the benefits of meddling for herself and as such he was not certain that she was really serious. "And when will you start?"

She looked pensive. "I am waiting for the perfect opportunity, but I must be better acquainted with your mother before I do so. She may yet convince me that she is not insane."

Part 16

Sophie had sat down with Lady Maye while the others repaired to the table for a game of cards. As soon as they were all settled there, she turned aside. The rain beating against the windows steadily was a welcome accomplice. They could never go home before it stopped and before she knew the story.

Allingham was her other ally. He had been remarkably smooth in suggesting a game for four. Sophie had too much on her mind to wonder if he had done this consciously to give her a chance to speak to his mother, or if this was mere luck on her part.

"You must tell me about that engagement. I am highly curious."

Lady Maye was not secretive about her plans at all. "Your sister Lady Catherine would be the perfect wife for my son. She is pretty, she is young and she is an amiable girl."

Sophie wondered why Catherine's character mattered and Allingham's did not. Perhaps one was to reason in the opposite direction. Why did he need an amiable girl?

She also wondered why she was no longer pretty and young -- or was it her perceived lack of amiability that disqualified her? Sisters were equal in birth and she was much closer to Allingham's age than Catherine was. But she was a wicked widow, presumably robbed of her purity as well. No Mama would want such an unimpressionable woman for her son and if sons wanted her, it was usually not as their wife.

"A very fashionable girl, too, who will bring about a change in him, I hope."

"A change?" Sophie asked politely. "Lord Allingham looks quite fashionable, My Lady." At this moment he certainly did, all dressed up. She should not betray any knowledge of his more careless moments.

"Oh, he looks fine now, but he may also look quite frightful if one happens upon him by accident."

Frightful was not the appropriate term. The only time Sophie had been scared a little was at the ball when he had been dressed perfectly as well, but that had been because she had not know what he wanted. He was a man of simple pleasures and simple tastes, nothing to be frightened of.

"He does not lead a very fashionable life, you see."

"Really?"

"He is always here at his estate."

"Is that not good? Does that not speak of dedication and responsibility?" Sophie asked. She had a feeling that he was very constant in his dedication to what captured his fancy.

"But who does one meet here? Nobody, as you will have experienced, Lady Sophie. A wife, the right kind of wife, will force him to go out into proper society a bit more and she will be young enough to give him heirs."

The image of Catherine and Allingham presenting their firstborn made Sophie slightly nauseous.

"I am inviting your mother and sister hither to finalise the arrangements that your mother and I have already begun."

"Allow me to have objections to the scheme." Sophie had swallowed at the thought that Allingham might be saddled with a few children with blonde curls, which he would not like at all. He might prefer a few daughters with dark red hair. If she married him, she would have to succumb to his wish for an heir. That was a thing she had not yet considered, but she thought she would look much better in the image than her sister.

Her comment was incomprehensible to Lady Maye. "Objections?"

"Yes, My Lady. I have objections."

The lady's eyes widened. "Why? To what can you object?"

"If you proceed with this scheme that would eventually ruin my sister -- because you know what happened to his previous undesired fiancées -- you will meet with serious opposition from me."

"His undesired fiancées? I do not know of what you speak, Lady Sophie. That my son has never married his fiancées does not mean they were undesired. Unfortunate events prevented their wedding, but they were highly desirable marriage parties."

"To everyone except him."

"How dare you imply --"

Suddenly Sophie knew what she had to do. "Lord Allingham is my devoted servant, Lady Maye. If you persist, I shall have no trouble getting him to pay his addresses to me, thwarting your plans. I shall have no trouble getting him to marry me and if you do not know what happened to my first husband, perhaps you had better make inquiries." She sat back to study the effect of her words.

Lady Maye had paled during the speech. "Is this a threat?" Apparently the rumours about Sophie's wedding night had reached her at some point.

"No, it is not. It is more. It is unavoidable."

"Henry is your devoted servant?" his mother uttered in a weak voice.

Sophie lifted the hems of her skirts and produced a carefully folded piece of paper that she handed to the older woman. After that useful conversation on daggers, her stockings had become a perfect place. "He is."

Lady Maye unfolded the letter.

Dear Lady Sophie,
I shall treasure your letter forever.
Your Devoted Servant and Ally,
Henry Cavendish, Viscount Allingham

"As you see," Sophie explained, "it was dated a few weeks ago. His partiality is by no means of a recent origin and therefore constant." Before Lady Maye could do anything to her letter, she took it back, folded it and hid it again. "He wants only a little encouragement from me, which I can give him easily if you insist on setting my sister up for ruin. I shall not be losing much, as you know."

Both of them looked at the cards table.

Louisa looked at Henry, who was watching Sophie with a look of alarm. She followed his gaze and saw a glimpse of a stockinged leg and something being pulled out of the stocking. "Look at your cards," she nudged, pretending to make an innocent comment about the game. They were partners and had to agree on a strategy.

"I thought it might be a dagger," he whispered in relief. "But it seems to be a letter."

"You know what they say about the pen and the sword," she whispered back. "Look at your cards!"

"But the letter has to be put back," he said, fascinated by the stocking. "Wait."

Louisa groaned audibly, earning her a surprised look from Frederick. She did not explain. Either he would not understand or he would understand too well.

"I know what she showed my mother," Henry muttered when he caught the two ladies staring at them. He understood their expressions perfectly, the horror and the smugness. "You were right. A letter is more effective than a dagger." He wondered what it meant that she carried his letter on her person.

"Perhaps my words gave you some discomfort, My Lady," Sophie remarked. "Believe me, if your notions were as sound and correct as you believe them to be, you would not feel a threat from mine."

"Are you implying your words were correct or in any way acceptable?" Lady Maye asked through clenched teeth.

"Not at all," Sophie said amiably, "but when discomfort strikes one should examine one's notions, for discomfort is a bad sign."

"I do not have the pleasure of understanding you at all."

"You feel threatened -- why? I am telling you the answer is in your heart and mind, not in mine."

Sophie sat back, picking up a book that lay on a nearby table, not to read it, but to have something to occupy her. It dealt with gardening and in perusing it, her eye fell on a drawing of a lady and a gentleman companionably sitting on a bench in the conservatory -- this had to be where Allingham got his idea of trysts in such a place. She smiled involuntarily. It did not say whether the gentleman in the drawing was not the lady's husband. That had to be Allingham's own interpretation or fear.

Much hinged on interpretations in any matter.

As she leafed through the book, she reflected that quite possibly Lady Maye's intentions were more benevolent and unselfish at heart than her own, but that their outcome would be far more destructive. That ought to matter when someone decided between the two.

Lady Maye obviously interpreted her intentions incorrectly and for her purpose she ought to let Lady Maye labour under that impression for a while longer.

Part 17

The rain had stopped and when Mrs. Burgess' carriage came to pick her up at the designated time, the Wardens left too. Sophie was satisfied. She was certain that her chat with Lady Maye would have some results. Her Ladyship had been very silent after speaking to her. She had not even bothered to be haughty.

Obviously Allingham had realised that something had happened, but he had not had any opportunity to ask. Sophie felt rather sorry for him as she imagined him being interrogated right now. Still, this was a game she would win and giving Allingham some trouble at some point could not be avoided. He would thank her later, even if he looked fearful of being left. She was not leaving. Tomorrow she would go walking and she would walk until she ran into him.

Sophie was silent as they sat in the carriage of Mrs. Burgess, who had offered to take them to the gates of the parsonage to spare their shoes. She had hoped she would be able to slip upstairs as soon as they came home, but she was not so fortunate. Her friends had been forced to suppress their curiosity ever since the first course of dinner and they were intent on receiving some answers to their questions. Too much had passed for them to stay silent.

"How did you tame Lady Maye, Sophie?" Louisa asked. She had noticed that the lady had become very quiet after her conversation with Sophie. Presumably the mysterious letter had played some role. Henry had known what sort of letter it was. He might have written it, in response to the insulting letter Sophie said she sent him.

"I threatened her with the death of her son if she persisted in threatening me with the ruin of my sister," Sophie said lightly. She saw her cousin's face. "Oh Frederick! Do not look at me like that! You know I did not really contribute to that man's death! He very graciously expired before he could hurt me. Perhaps I would have killed him then, but I cannot say."

Frederick felt that he ought to say something about her methods, but he could not. If even Allingham, the object of all these machinations, sat back and relaxed, he should do that too. His silence did not spring from comfort, however. He was too shocked. Perhaps she would have killed him? Because he would have hurt her? Nobody had ever told him it had been like that.

"But you are not seriously thinking of killing Henry, are you?" asked Louisa. She supported anything that would lead to a happy marriage, but all hints at other outcomes required investigation.

"Of course not, but Lady Maye does not know that. Will that be all?" Sophie shuffled towards the stairs. She did not want to have her motives questioned.

Louisa was not yet ready to let her go. If Sophie was not thinking of killing Henry, she was obviously going to use him for happier purposes, but admitting that might be more difficult than denying the opposite. "What about the domestic infelicity? You were about to explain when his mother interrupted you."

Sophie looked upstairs longingly. "I do not recall."

"Of course not," Louisa said in an untrustworthy kind voice. "How unfortunate that I do. You were going to tell me how he could be involved in your domestic felicity. There was something to be said for ... something."

Sophie was certain that Louisa wanted to hear there was something that could be said for having an agreeable companion in life, but that was not what she wished to think about in front of her friends. "There is something to be said for sacrifice and unselfishness. Would you not agree?"

"Are you sacrificing yourself to marry Henry?" Frederick asked.

There was too much doubt in his voice for her to think he was asking an innocent question. "As you would think I do not stand to lose anything, I suppose you would not consider it a sacrifice."

Indeed, he thought.

Louisa chimed in again. "Henry was afraid you were pulling a dagger from your stocking."

Sophie coloured. "He was supposed to be playing cards! He was not supposed to see what I was doing." She did not really care if he saw anything, she realised, but she cared more about Louisa thinking that she had done it on purpose.

Louisa shrugged. "Gentlemen have fine intuitions for ladies displaying their stockings, Sophie." Their eyes would be drawn to such a scene and they would not be able to look away.

"I can never do anything right!" Sophie cried and ran upstairs.

"Apparently I do not have such intuitions," Frederick commented. "What happened? What did I miss?"

"While we were at the cards table, she showed Lady Maye a note that she kept in her stocking. Henry saw that. He thought it quite interesting."

"Indeed." He was not surprised at that interest. "He must have been wondering why she kept notes in such a strange place, do you not think?"

"Frederick!"

Alone in her room Sophie did not immediately go to sleep, but she lay in her bed and thought of the situation. She had set herself up to marry Lord Allingham and that was irreversible because he knew of her plan. Whatever the rest of the table had thought of her cryptic comments and threats, they had not betrayed anything, but in Allingham's eyes she had seen that he had most definitely understood what she had been about. The odd thing -- or perhaps not, given that he never seemed to object to anything -- was that he had not voiced any objections. He must be going along passively.

She examined her motives. Her scheme had been entirely unplanned and she wondered how big a role Allingham's appearance had played. He had certainly been dressed very smartly and he had been extremely well-mannered, but surely that could not have inspired her. She was also acquainted with the negative sides -- his farmer clothes and his spinelessness. She could not be fooled.

Nevertheless, he was a fine man and not devoid of understanding. She thought she might call him generous, charitable and kind as well, given how he handled his estate.

Sophie wondered why she was stupid. Her hosts obviously did not think very highly of her discernment and understanding.

Frederick and Louisa talked quietly. "He is manipulating her badly and she is unaware of it," he said. "All these motives of so-called unselfishness and sacrifice play right into his hands, you see." He was aware Sophie had used the terms to placate him especially, as he might disapprove of underhand dealings. It did not mean she truly believed she was sacrificing herself.

"Manipulating her?" Louisa had not yet considered the situation from that angle. "Henry?"

"If he was infatuated when he returned from London, he is now completely besotted with her. He must have her, no matter how."

"How can you tell? Sophie told me his indifference to propriety was due to the different notion country gentlemen have of gallantry," Louisa said with snort. "I really think she believes he has no intentions."

"I can tell he is besotted by the fact that he runs in to her by accident each day and he does not greet and walk on, but he walks with her, Lord 'I want none of women' Allingham."

She giggled at the nickname. "And she says it is nothing. Apparently he spoke of crop rotation. Try as I might, I cannot see anything manipulative or even besotted in that."

"She may not realise her fate was sealed because she listened to such topics," Frederick said humorously, knowing where his friend's primary interests lay. "I am not sure I can reconstruct this properly, but he said she thinks him a weakling -- I suppose for not standing up to his mother -- and that is why he does not speak up, even though he sees what she is doing. He might be afraid that she will change her mind about saving him. I do not even know if she knows what she is doing herself."

"Ah, so you think that too? She tried to make me believe she was saving her sister." Louisa had enough reasons to assume that was not the entire truth.

"Never reveal your true intentions, least of all to yourself," he spoke wisely.

"He lifted her over our fence this morning," Louisa said after some deliberation. She had kept this from him, fearing it might be too much for his tolerance. Now that there was a wedding on the horizon this behaviour might be a little more acceptable.

"Lifted?" He mentally tried to find a spot in his fence where such an action was necessary, but he thought the presence of gates at the back and front would render lifting or climbing quite unnecessary.

"Yes, they approached it normally, but then he stopped, lifted her up and deposited her on the other side."

"That sounds like typical Allingham gallantry," Frederick commented. "I do not even have to think about sending you to chaperone the two. It would be completely useless. He would simply lift you over fences as well and think nothing of it."

"Do you not disapprove?"

He shrugged, not knowing what sort of stance he should take. "Is this the gallantry of country gentlemen to which she was referring?"

"Yes, it was."

Frederick looked thoughtful. "She feels his intentions are good, but she cannot explain them." It might be deliberate on her part. Recognising and admitting his worth might confuse her.

"Well, being held by a pair of strong arms must be more effective than receiving roses," Louisa said teasingly. "Of course I have no experience with roses...and Sophie..." She supposed Sophie might also prefer being carried.

"You would be a very bad chaperone. You encourage far too much," he said in an indulgent tone.

"Well, that is because I cannot lie," she protested. "I know something good will come out of these ... things."

Part 18

As soon as the guests had left, Allingham turned to his mother. He looked displeased, almost angry. "You are doing it again! I forbid you to invite guests to my house. Undoubtedly you mean to invite them so you can announce my engagement to that girl, an arrangement I know nothing about and I do not agree with at all! It must end once and for all! It is my house, my life, my future."

"I do not want to talk about the subject," Lady Maye said, averting her eyes. "Do not become so agitated."

"Agitated? I am more than agitated! You shall not invite them!" he spoke angrily and inwardly he trembled. Was this what she wanted him to do? He had done it before and it had had no effect whatsoever. His mother never listened, whatever he said. He supposed she listened to other people well enough for them to take her seriously when she carried out her evil schemes. Nobody thought her insane. "I can turn you out of the house and I shall not hesitate to do so if you continue with your plans."

Lady Maye had been trying to reach a conclusion with regard to Lady Sophie. During their conversation she had never doubted that the younger woman had been speaking with the utmost seriousness. She believed Lady Sophie was dangerous and that there would be no Henry anymore if she allowed Lady Sophie to have her way. She could not allow that to happen. She could not let her son be murdered in the wedding bed. Her vice rose in despair. "I will not allow you to marry a murderess. I shall do everything in my power to prevent that!"

"There is nothing you can do," he said in a cold voice. "Because I am not going to marry a murderess."

"She has threatened me nevertheless. What do you say to that?" she demanded.

"I was not privy to your conversation with her. There is nothing I can say." Sophie had not told him what had been discussed and he no longer knew whether he could believe his mother.

"She threatened me."

"She has every right to. Her sister will be ruined if you go ahead with your despicable plan. At least Lady Sophie realises I am serious about that. I shall not be married to a woman you have chosen, no matter how suitable you think her. I can pick my own."

"So you pick a murderess. You let her pick you. The lady is after your fortune." She could see it. Lady Sophie would marry Henry, kill him and take his fortune, just like she had done to Sir Oswald Burke.

"Why would a wealthy widow be after my fortune?" A wealthy widow would not need his money. There was not enough of it on display to entice anybody to marry him.

His mother had no answer to that. She merely paced the room anxiously, wringing her hands.

"Why would a wealthy widow want me at all? Why would anyone? Please search your heart for the answer, then rethink your plan." He wished her to give it up instantly.

"Henry!" she pleaded as if he was about to die.

"If you loved me," he said bitterly, "you would not come up with such plans." He could give Sophie an answer now, should she ask him again if he was lonely. He was quite alone.

Instead of going to his rooms, Allingham went to Mrs. Hope. "Can I speak with you for a moment?" he asked. He felt she deserved to know there might be changes in the composition of his household.

The housekeeper perceived that he had something on his mind. She wondered how the confrontation had gone. "Of course, My Lord. Please sit down."

"Does she love me?" he began without further introduction.

"Lady Sophie?" she asked, as if she did not know he had just been speaking to his mother. It would be easier to discuss Lady Sophie.

"No, my mother."

"You are her child. You are the only thing she has left. Your father is not of much use to her either, as you well know. It is only natural that she should be a little protective of you."

"But it does not work!" he exclaimed. Good intentions did not justify everything.

"No, it does not work," she agreed. "Do not give your mother room to act. She may not even realise her interference is unwanted if you never become angry enough. State clearly what you accept."

"It is Lady Sophie who is not giving my mother any room to act, I think," Allingham said gloomily. He was no longer certain that he was involved in his own future. Perhaps he was indeed a weakling. "She seems determined to marry me."

"And you are giving Lady Sophie that room, are you not?" She was certain it would never have happened if Lord Allingham had not wanted it to happen.

"I suppose so," he replied, feeling a little better about his own strength. "But I mean I could say anything to my mother and she would simply not listen. She ought to listen to her own son and not to other people, certainly not to other people merely because they threaten her. What does this mean? That I should threaten her too?"

"Yes, she ought to listen to you," Mrs. Hope agreed flatly. She did not really know how to help here, today. "However, she has listened to you and accepted at least one of your decisions in the past, no matter how much she disliked it in principle. Do you not remember?"

He remembered. It was possibly the hardest situation he had ever had to handle, but perhaps that had been because he had barely come of age then. "I do, but I was only trying to remedy my father's wrongdoings. It was never my intention to give any pain to my mother and I told her so."

In Mrs. Hope's opinion the son was a far better man than the father and he had succeeded in his endeavour to make the situation right. "She was aware of who was to blame and that is why she came to accept the situation. I spoke to her too at the time. You know life has not always treated your mother kindly and you do not really wish to upset her any further, do you?"

"No, I do not."

"Although you could. You could easily say you never want to see her again because she interferes too much. Perhaps this is what your young lady threatened her with?" Lady Sophie was not a dull thing and in Lord Allingham's own estimation not a very delicate lady either. She could well be using threats to get her way.

"I understood she threatened my mother that I will not survive the union."

"You do not sound unduly concerned about this threat," Mrs. Hope observed. She could see how Lady Maye thought differently, but of course Lady Maye was fearing she was going to lose her son and she would interpret any threat in an irrational manner.

Allingham smiled wanly. "It sounds ridiculous to me. I would never give her any cause to murder me. I would never allow her to murder me either. I do not think she murdered her husband. I do not know how and when he died, but I believe it was sheer luck."

"Precisely. It was lucky for both of you. Why do you not go to bed and see if you can find her in the park tomorrow?" Mrs. Hope asked. "Then you can ask her what she said."

"If you see her, would you please treat her as the future mistress of the house? That is what she is determined to become. That is what I came to ask before I was distracted," he said, feeling a little embarrassed.

She smiled at him. "Naturally. And you are determined not to be in her way, are you not?"

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