so she could not fathom what the cause might be. Though not well acquainted with the family, Sophie sensed a sweetness of temper—though she would never tell Mr. Oliver Kingsley that, as gentlemen rarely found such a description desirable. But Lily and her brother had spoken more kind words to Sophie than she could ever remember her own family saying, to her or anyone. Where Allen mocked and her parents bemoaned her odd pastime, the Kingsleys had praised and admired it.
As much as it pained her to admit it, Sophie fully expected her family was the source of the conflict.
Had this rift been the reason behind Mr. Kingsley’s disappearance five years ago? It was no great leap of logic to believe it to be true when Lily was forbidden from even engaging with Sophie in an innocent discussion. The senior Mr. and Mrs. Kingsley were determined to maintain the distance between their brood and the Banfields’ and had likely been displeased to discover their son was set to squire Miss Sophie Banfield about London.
She ought to be offended, and part of her heart railed against the injustice of it all, yet as Sophie’s gaze traveled among the guests, she watched Allen rouse the young gentlemen into antics that were too juvenile for schoolboys but the perfect diversion for bored gentlemen. Meanwhile, Father stood closer than was seemly to Mrs. Nelson; the others might not acknowledge the lingering touches on her arm, but Sophie had seen her father seduce many a woman to misread the situation. He’d attempted it with Mrs. Caswell, likely more for the challenge than desire, but she’d proved fruitless, and he’d quickly shifted focus to more bountiful hunting grounds.
And Mama. If not for Allen’s presence, she would likely be planted among the younger set, but contented herself with bestowing inviting glances at the footmen whenever the others weren’t watching.
But for all her internal sermonizing and condemnation, it was Sophie who stood alone. Cast out and ignored. Yes, Sophie envied her family’s ease with people, their joie de vivre that allowed them to find a place among any set of people, and she longed for a particle of their ability. Stepping towards the nearest blanket, Sophie claimed a corner and watched as the others mingled around her.
*
Leaning into Oliver, Miss Caswell wrapped her arms around one of his as the pair strolled around the edge of the picnic.
“And why did you wish to lure me away from the others?” she asked with a wicked spark in her eye.
Oliver replied with a single arched brow. “Need I have an excuse to lure you away? We’ve hardly had a moment to speak since you arrived.”
Miss Caswell bumped against his shoulder. “We have an entire month in which to steal moments like this one. If I might be so bold, I’ve missed you.”
“We saw each other in London not long ago,” he replied with a chuckle.
“Yes, but it’s felt like an eternity, Mr. Kingsley.”
Oliver patted her hand, though he was not so audacious as to leave it there. Instead, he contented himself with smiling at her, for it was as though the vice around his lungs loosened, and he could breathe once more.
Miss Caswell slanted him a sly grin and leaned closer. “The Nelsons have a rather odd approach to guest lists. I am not sure if we are in for rousing political debates or ruined reputations. Though Miss Banfield seems a charming young lady, her family has a rather colorful reputation.”
“Oh?”
She gave a vague wave. “Nothing terribly untoward. Or at least nothing that can be proven. But I’ve heard whispers about them and the company they keep. And then the Nelsons rounded out the group with Mr. Flemming and Mr. Dosett—both of whom are influential in the government.”
The vice tightened once more, constricting Oliver’s chest until his innards felt liable to burst. Ignoring the first part of her statement, he focused on the second. “Mr. Nelson fancies himself an armchair politician.”
Miss Caswell would never be so impolitic as to roll her eyes (even when the situation warranted it), but Oliver felt it lingering beneath the surface, begging to be let loose as she slanted a look in his direction.
“The majority of gentlemen believe themselves political, yet few stir themselves beyond reading the odd newspaper article and expounding upon subjects at great length and little substance,” she replied.
Oliver met that with raised brows. “Ought I to be offended?”
But Miss Caswell merely bumped him with her shoulder again. “I suppose I am