He held out a conciliatory hand and waited for her response, but Sophie stared unseeingly at the floor, her lips tightly compressed. When she finally spoke her voice was strangely gruff. “How… is Ed Salter?”
Tom looked at her, surprised, wondering why she had chosen this moment to ask. “He’s recovering,” he said, noting relief in her expression, “but he’ll be scarred for life.”
“I’m sorry about that,” she said. “He’s a good man.”
Tom thought that was the moment when Sophie realised that she had gone her length and there was nowhere else to go. Her next words confirmed it.
“I won’t plague Aunt Winifred any more,” she said. “Not if it reflects on you.”
He felt touched by her response. It was the nearest thing to an apology he would receive, but he was content knowing that she wouldn’t deliberately step outside the accepted standard of behaviour and cause him embarrassment. For the moment, it was the best he could expect.
“Thank you,” he said. He would have loved to ask why she tormented Joshua, but their truce was too fragile to spoil. He hoped that, one day, she would tell him the truth, but would not hold his breath.
By the time the banker dined in Cavendish Square, a week later, Tom found Sophie’s demeanour had undergone a remarkable change. All trace of the hoyden had disappeared, and the appearance of civility existed between her and Mrs Pontesbury. She was even amenable to his sister’s suggestions on the latest fashions.
He was glad that with Sophie’s commanding height and dark colouring, his sister had the sense not to dress her in pastel shades or frills and furbelows. Wearing a gown of dusky rose, she looked older than her seventeen years, and more assured than Winifred’s daughter of a similar age, brought in to balance the numbers. If only they had presented the two girls at Court in the spring season, Sophie might have received an offer of marriage, and avoided this trouble.
When Tom met Edward Teale, he realised this was the man who purchased, Ravensbury Manor, a run-down property situated a few miles from Hillend village, and about which he had heard good reports of the changes made.
During the evening, he noticed Charlie with the younger members of the Pontesbury family, and thought he saw a touch of sadness – almost as if he was looking for someone with whom to share his thoughts. Knowing the camaraderie with Joshua would be hard to replace, he questioned his decision to keep them apart. At the time, with Charlie’s avowed antipathy, it seemed the only option. Now, he was not sure. Maybe, they should have had the chance to make peace.
A few days after the dinner in Cavendish Square, Tom met the banker in his office to discuss a number of financial investments; and a week later, Mr Teale hosted a dinner party in his townhouse, with a select guest list that included Tom, his sister and brother-in-law, together with Sophie and Charlie.
Arriving at the house, Tom met Mr Teale’s cousin, a mature woman of middle years, who acted as hostess at the dinner, and who, he learned, managed the household. The knowledge reassured him, for Sophie would need support. He only hoped she would accept it. He need not have worried for the evening passed without event.
In her elegant attire, Sophie’s behaviour was so good he could almost suppose that another person stood in her shoes. Then he realised for the first time the benefits of her Bredenbridge education and wished that Jane was here to see her. No, some of it must come from staying with people with money.
“I was almost proud of Sophie last night,” said Winifred, when they took breakfast the following morning.
“Indeed,” said Tom, “her appearance said much for your excellent taste.”
Winifred acknowledged the compliment with a smile, and then asked, “What did you say to Sophie to effect such a change in her behaviour? One cannot credit that she is the same girl. Even Pontesbury noticed the difference, and as you know he normally only sees the food on his plate.”
“Sophie asked me about the injured groom who had been her friend,” he said, ignoring the rest. “I told her that Salter would recover, but be permanently scarred, and she was sorry.”
“Did she give any explanation?”
“No,” he said, “but she was greatly moved, so I didn’t press the matter.”
“Nor do I relish another confrontation. Did she tell you that she wanted to follow the drum with Charlie? It’s an absolutely ridiculous idea.”
“Is it?” he said, a smile teasing his lips. “I can just see her on the march, impressing the generals with her riding prowess. She’s better in the saddle than Charlie, you know.”
“How can you be so nonsensical? Of course it is impossible.”
“She probably told you that to provoke you, in the hope that you would be glad to see the back of her.”
“No, she meant it, because Charlie was aware of it. When I told him it was not at all the thing, he accepted my word but she did not. Of course the foolish girl cannot do that. A wife might go with her husband or a daughter as part of the family, but it is not appropriate for sisters to travel with their brother. What would she do if, heaven forbid, Charlie were killed?”
“I don’t think we need to stretch our imaginations to find an answer for that, Winifred. Sophie would find a protector.”
“As she will here, without any trouble, but she needs to be protected from her own folly,” Winifred shuddered at the thought and reached for her vinaigrette, which had been forgotten.
“I seem to recall another young lady who wanted to follow the drum,” he said.
“That was different,” she said. “I was older and wiser than Sophie, and it is unkind of you to remind me. However, it was probably a mistake for he got himself killed in that horrid American war, before we could be married. I’m sure that Pontesbury is a better husband, even if he is not very dashing.”
“Less than half-a-year in age, if I recall,” he said with ruthless accuracy.
“Oh, you are provoking, Tom. Was I really so young and light-hearted? One forgets as time goes by…” Winifred sighed at the recollection.
“Very dashing you were,” he said.
“Yes, I was, everyone said so, but that is nothing to the point, Tom,” his sister said. “Sophie would be absolutely ruined if she did that, and you would be blamed for she is your niece, or at least, her mother was Jane’s cousin…”
“I’m sure that Sophie realises it for she was impeccably behaved.”
“Did you see how she deferred to Edward Teale’s judgement? I think she must have done that when she was staying in Bredenbridge. From what she said, her friend’s father was greatly impressed with her common sense.”
“Men often are, Winifred, but I find that ladies are not, and you must admit that Sophie is unusual.”
She shuddered. “You don’t have to tell me that, Tom. It wouldn’t do for him to hear of her plan to follow the drum; or her previous escapades.”
“Forget it, Winifred. I think that Sophie will surprise us.”
She gave him a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”
“I watched how she cast an appraising glance over the contents of each room that we entered.”
“How vulgar,” she said. “I must speak with her about it.”
“No, Winifred,” said Tom, “I’ve seen many people do that when they think they are unnoticed. Ladies are especially critical, and Sophie has been accustomed to staying in an extremely wealthy household. I think she was mentally comparing the value, but to Edward Teale she expressed her admiration, which pleased him.”
Tom had noticed the adroit way that Sophie conducted herself. He wouldn’t be surprised to see Teale giving her everything she asked for. Whereas Charlie was without guile, he knew that Sophie could turn most situations to her advantage.
“
You’re very observant, Tom.”
In his position he was supposed to notice things.
“I need to satisfy myself that they have a chance of being compatible, Winifred; otherwise I will not allow her to marry him.”
“You wouldn’t want her to marry Joshua, would you?”
“No, he’s far too young for the responsibility. That’s why he’s at Holkham, to be away from the temptations that women might offer.”
To Tom’s relief, Sophie quickly recognised the benefits of marriage, and responded favourably when Edward Teale made his wishes known.
She returned from her second visit to his London home, full of enthusiasm about the luxurious furnishings, and the promise of having her own glossy black phaeton and pair of perfectly matched chestnut horses. That was the deciding factor.
“It’s just like my friend Annie’s house,” she said in an excited voice, “only better, because it will be my home, and Charlie can live with us.”
Hearing the sound of satisfaction, Tom felt happier. Sophie never took the slightest interest in house furnishings at Linmore, but it seemed that the idea of being mistress of such a lavish establishment held great appeal for her. The prospect of having a wealthy husband overcame any other desires, and from her perspective, his advancing age was no impediment to the match.
Tom left the purchase of bride’s clothes to his sister, and duly paid the accounts when they arrived. He also funded the engagement ball at Cavendish Square, which Winifred considered necessary for a member of the Norbery family. It was modest by her usual standards, but no one could say she did not do things properly.
Caught up in the excitement of the event, Sophie was happy to marry her banker, by special licence, little more than a month after they met. Due to the bridegroom’s working commitments, neither deemed a bridal trip necessary.
Punctilious in her duties, Mrs Pontesbury ensured an entry appeared in the
London Society Gazette
, recording the marriage between Miss Sophie Cobarne, of Linmore Hall in Shropshire; and Mr Edward Teale, a banker in the City. After which, the report stated the couple would divide their time between Mr Teale’s London home, and his country estate.
When Tom left London, it was with the intention of travelling to Holkham to see Joshua, before returning home to Linmore. In his pocket was a copy of the
London Society Gazette,
containing a report of Sophie’s wedding; a second one having been sent to Lucius Cobarne in Ireland, together with a letter of explanation.
I took the liberty of purchasing a commission of Second-Lieutenant for Charlie in his father’s former regiment. As he is unaware of the state of your brother’s financial situation, I implied that monies were left in a trust, which you have managed. He may well write to express his gratitude. Similarly, for Sophie, I provided a dowry for her marriage, the details of which are in the magazine.
What else could he say? It was nobody’s business that he took out a mortgage of ten thousand pounds, using Linmore as security, with five thousand for each invested in government funds. Edward Teale had agreed to manage them.
It was not exactly how he intended his guardianship to end, but he had fulfilled the legal obligations he promised to the best of his ability. All that remained was for him to maintain contact with the Teale household, to assure himself that Sophie had the support she needed.
Tom had great hopes of his investment in Joshua at Holkham. Linmore money would pay for improvements to the estate, and if the war continued as seemed likely, farming profits would increase and the mortgage could be repaid within a few years. There was no reason for him ever to know.
The last month had been a trial, but they had brushed through it without too many problems. Quite unexpectedly, Sophie had shed a few tears when saying farewell.
“Please don’t abandon me, Uncle Tom,” she whispered when, quite out of character, she gave him a hug of farewell.
“No, Sophie,” he said, “I won’t. If you need to consult me… about anything, send a message to Aunt Winifred. She will ensure it finds me.”
It was the only hint of any anxiety Sophie might feel, and was quickly gone.
“I will send news of your marriage to your uncle in Ireland,” he said.
She gave a little crow of delight, hastily subdued, and said with a rueful grin, “He’ll never believe it of me. Thank you, Uncle Tom, for everything…”
If, as Tom suspected, Sophie had wanted to remain at Linmore, he thought that the relative proximity of Ravensbury Manor, might have helped sway her judgement.
Having satisfied himself that all was well, he turned his mind to how Joshua was faring. He’d travelled to Holkham before at the time of the sheep-shearings, but not for several years. Now Joshua could explain what was going on.
Afterwards, he would make his way home to Linmore. He couldn’t wait to tell Jane the news that Sophie was safely married and in a few weeks, Charlie would commence his officer training.
In Jane’s last letter, she had mentioned Ed Salter’s continuing progress to recovery, and a problem that she wished to discuss with him about Millie. This puzzled him, for he had ensured the girl was amply rewarded for her honesty in speaking in Joshua’s defence, so what else had occurred?
If Sophie was ecstatic about the turn of events, Charlie was appalled when he heard news of her impending nuptials. He looked at her in disbelief.
“You can’t marry him, Sophie. He is far too old. The Norberys have no right to make you do this.”
“Don’t be silly, Charlie,” she said. “Nobody is forcing me to do anything, least of all Uncle Tom. He was kind to me from the beginning, and I will not have a word said against him. I am doing this, in part, to make up to you what you have lost. Mr Teale has agreed you can make your home with us.”
“It’s not necessary for you to go to these lengths, Sophie,” he said, running an agitated hand through his hair. “I would have been leaving Linmore anyway. It’s what you want that matters.”
Sophie gave a wry grin. “Believe me, Charlie,” she said. “This suits me very well. I’ve never had money, and he has more than enough for all of us. He’s old, and might not live long, so we’ll make of it what we can. In any case, I have other friends.”
“But you told me that you had money before we came to London.”
“Oh, Charlie,” she said with a gurgle of laughter. “That was the allowance Uncle Tom gave me when I was at school. Living with Annie, her parents paid for everything. I saved every penny, but it was chicken-feed compared to the amount of pin-money Mr Teale will give me every quarter.”