An Offer From a Gentleman (Cinderella)
Chapter 15
Sophie did as she was told. They were, of course, a perfect fit.
“You have overstepped your bounds,” Araminta said in a low voice. “I warned you years ago not to forget your place in this world. You are a bastard, a by-blow, the product of—”
“I know what a bastard is,” Sophie snapped.
Araminta raised one haughty brow, silently mocking Sophie’s outburst. “You are unfit to mingle with polite society,” she continued, “and yet you dared to pretend you are as good as the rest of us by attending the masquerade.”
“Yes, I dar
ed,” Sophie cried out, well past caring that Araminta had somehow discovered her secret. “I dared, and I’d dare again. My blood is just as blue as yours, and my heart far kinder, and—”
One minute Sophie was on her feet, screaming at Araminta, and the next she was on the floor, clutching her cheek, made red by Araminta’s palm.
“Don’t you ever compare yourself to me,” Araminta warned.
Sophie remained on the floor. How could her father have done this to her, leaving her in the care of a woman who so obviously detested her? Had he cared so little? Or had he simply been blind?
“You will be gone by morning,” Araminta said in a low voice. “I don’t ever want to see your face again.”
Sophie started to make her way to the door.
“But not,” Araminta said, planting the heel of her hand against Sophie’s shoulder, “until you finish the job I have assigned you.”
“It will take me until morning just to finish,” Sophie protested.
“That is your problem, not mine.” And with that, Araminta slammed the door shut, turning the lock with a very loud click.
Sophie stared down at the flickering candle she’d brought in to help illuminate the long, dark closet. There was no way the wick would last until morning.
And there was no way—absolutely no way in hell—that she was going to polish the rest of Araminta’s shoes.
Sophie sat down on the floor, arms crossed and legs crossed, and stared at the candle flame until her eyes crossed, too. When the sun rose tomorrow, her life would be forever altered. Penwood House might not have been terribly welcoming, but at least it was safe.
She had almost no money. She hadn’t received so much as a farthing from Araminta in the past seven years. Luckily, she still had a bit of the pin money she’d received when her father had been alive and she’d been treated as his ward, not his wife’s slave. There had been many opportunities to spend it, but Sophie had always known that this day might come, and it had seemed prudent to hold on to what little funds she possessed.
But her paltry few pounds wasn’t going to get her very far. She needed a ticket out of London, and that cost money. Probably well over half what she had saved. She supposed she could stay in town for a bit, but the London slums were dirty and dangerous, and Sophie knew that her budget would not place her in any of the better neighborhoods. Besides, if she were going to be
to mention that Benedict Bridgerton was here. London was a large city, and Sophie had no doubt that she could successfully avoid him for years, but she was desperately afraid that she wouldn’t want to avoid him, that she’d find herself gazing at his house, hoping for the merest of glimpses as he came through the front door.
what would happen. He might be
to throw himself at her feet, declare his undying devotion, and demand her hand in marriage.
Sons of viscounts did not marry baseborn nobodies. Not even in romantic novels.
No, she’d have to leave London. Keep herself far from temptation. But she’d need more money, enough to keep her going until she found employment. Enough to—
Sophie’s eyes fell on something sparkly—a pair of shoes tucked away in the corner. Except she’d cleaned those shoes just an hour earlier, and she knew that
Did she dare?
money that Araminta had received for her upkeep, money Araminta had never seen fit to share.
all those years she’d toiled as a lady’s maid, without drawing a single wage.
She thought about her conscience, then quickly squelched it. In times like these, she didn’t have room for a conscience.
She took the shoe clips.
And then, several hours later when Posy came (against her mother’s wishes) and let her out, she packed up all of her
Much to her surprise, she didn’t look back.
Part Two
Chapter 6
nearing her wit’s end. Benedict has not taken a bride (and it is the opinion of This Author that as he has attained the age of thirty, he is far past due),
dowager viscountess also has two girls about which she must worry. Eloise is nearly one-and-twenty and although she has received several proposals, she has shown no inclination to marry. Francesca is nearly twenty (the girls quite coincidentally share a birthday), and she, too, seems more interested in the season than she does
This Author feels that Lady Bridgerton does not need to worry. It is inconceivable that any of the Bridgertons might not eventually make an
LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 30 APRIL
Alcohol and cheroots. Card games and lots of hired women. It was just the sort of party Benedict Bridgerton would have enjoyed immensely when he was fresh out of university.
Now he was just bored.
He wasn’t even certain why he’d agreed to attend. More boredom, he supposed. The London season of 1817 had thus far been a repeat of the previous year, and he hadn’t
those friend of a friend of a friend situations, and now Benedict was fervently wishing he’d remained in London. He’d just gotten over a blistering head cold, and he should have used that as an
Now he heartily regretted it.
He walked down the main hall of Cavender’s parents’ home. Through the doorway to his left he could see a high-stakes card game in process. One of the players was sweating profusely.
The door to his right was closed, but he could hear the sound of feminine
the participants could afford, and he’d never had any interest in copulating in such a public manner. He had no idea what had happened to the friend who had brought him here, and he didn’t much like any of the other guests.
“I’m leaving,” he declared, even though there was no one in the hall to hear him. He had a small piece of property not so very far
But good manners dictated that he find