picnic set up for us on the banks of Bryer’s Pond. Would you do me the honor of joining me?”
Sophie’s grin was already stretched wide across her face, but his invitation lightened her heart as though she might be able to fly the half-mile there. But then Mr. Kingsley added a further addendum that brought her back to the ground with a thud.
“My parents are going to be there.” From the slanted look he gave her, it seemed he knew she would find the prospect daunting. Her fingers dug into his arm, and Mr. Kingsley laid his hand atop hers. “They wish to know you better. That is all. And they have promised to be on their best behavior.”
“You make it sound as though they were planning on gobbling me up.” Sophie attempted a lighthearted tone, but the pair knew too much of their families’ history and his parents’ objections to think this a small matter.
He led her up and over the hill, and the couple strolled along as Mr. Kingsley attempted to calm her fears, though the stream of assurances may have been as much for himself as for her.
“They harbor no ill-will against you in particular.” He gave her a warm smile. “Given the chance, I know they will adore you as Lily does. This has been a shock to them. That is all.”
“But…” Sophie didn’t know what protest she would make, but the thought of forcing a wedge between Mr. Kingsley and his loving family chilled her heart.
Mr. Kingsley pulled her to a stop and turned to face her. Holding her hand in his, he held her gaze with utter conviction. “They are afraid only because they do not know you, but given the chance, they will love you. They won’t be able to help themselves.”
Sophie drew in a breath, holding it there as she gave him a wobbly smile. Taking his arm once more, she said, “Then I have no choice but to join you for a picnic.”
***
Having spent little time in the Long Gallery, it took Victoria several minutes and wrong turns to find it, but the distant sounds of braying laughter guided her steps. It grew louder and more obnoxious the closer she got, and Victoria gathered her determination around herself. Straightening her spine, she clasped her hands before her and stepped through the doorway.
The room spanned the length of the building, making its name both apt and uninspired. It was mostly empty, allowing its master and mistress to use it for any number of functions, but at present, a billiards table stood at one end with the gentlemen gathered around it. A strike of cue against ball was followed by a chorus of cheers and groans as the fellows began shouting over each other during the ensuing discussion of the players’ form and strategy.
Victoria took a deep breath as she glided across the length of the room. With her footsteps muted by the rugs, the gentlemen gave her no notice until she stood directly behind them. One straightened, and the others all turned to spy her. The younger Dosett hurried to put out his cigar, waving away the smoke, as young Mr. Julius Nelson hopped up from his nearby armchair.
“Are you interested in a new opponent?” asked Victoria, her eyes drifting over each gentleman in turn.
“You play?” asked Mr. Allen Banfield with an arched brow and a smile that was too sweet to be trusted.
Infusing a touch of self-derision in her tone, she said, “In truth, I am not terribly proficient, but I do enjoy an opportunity to test my skills.”
“Allen and Peter have only one point to go before a winner is declared—” began Mr. Charles Dosett.
“But we needn’t stand on ceremony when we are presented with such a lovely opponent,” said Mr. Banfield.
Victoria held up her hands, giving them a smile that was all sweetness. “You needn’t interrupt your game for me, gentlemen.”
The opponents returned to their match, and Victoria shuddered against the sickening feeling dripping down her spine and the bitter tang filling her mouth. Forcing her thoughts to focus on the task at hand, she turned away from the self-directed revulsion; this needed to be done.
Smiling at the gentlemen, Victoria ignored the invitation steeped in Mr. Banfield’s gaze and examined the others. But there was little point in belaboring the issue, for even without a quick inventory of their prospects, she knew only one of the gentlemen had a fortune to speak of and an interest in marrying.
“Mr. Dosett,”