Waltz with a Stranger by Pamela Sherwood

Author:Pamela Sherwood [Sherwood, Pamela]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blue Castle Publishing

Chapter Twenty

For slander lives upon succession

Forever housed where it gets possession.

—William Shakespeare, The Comedy of Errors

Sitting in the parlor, watching Sophie show Aurelia how to eat scones the Cornish way by layering butter, strawberry jam, and finally clotted cream on top, James found it easy to forget a less pleasant purpose had brought him here today. He forced himself not to touch the letter, which he’d tucked into the inside breast pocket of his coat before setting out. Time enough for that, when he and Harry found a moment alone. But for now, he let himself bask in it all: Harry’s stalwart presence, Sophie’s ebullient gaiety, and the comfort of familiar walls around him. This was what he’d missed the whole time he’d been in London; he drank it in like a tonic now, reluctant to mar this warm family interlude.

Soon enough, everyone declared they’d eaten and drunk their fill, Aurelia agreeing that clotted cream was indeed fit for the gods. Once the dishes were cleared away, Sophie invited her to take a walk in the Tresilians’ garden. “I’m not impartial, of course, but I think it’s the loveliest in St. Perran.”

“I’d be delighted to see it,” Aurelia assured her.

“James?” Sophie turned next to him, but he shook his head.

“Thank you, cousin, but I have a few things to discuss with Harry.”

Harry glanced at him quizzically but made no demur. “I suppose we do at that,” was all he said. “Enjoy your walk, ladies.”

They went out, the fair and dark heads together, Sophie talking animatedly to her guest. They liked each other, James realized: the American heiress and the Cornish miss, fresh out of the schoolroom. Sophie and Amy would surely become fast friends too, once they met. It boded well for the future that the Newbolds and Tresilians should take so quickly to each other.

“Sophie’s grown even prettier than she was at New Year’s,” he observed. “You’ll have to beat the swains off with a cudgel, Harry.”

“So I’ve discovered.” Harry pulled a face. “As it happens, Sophie’s had a few offers since then, already.”

“Good Lord, she’s not even eighteen yet!”

“So I told the fellows in question,” Harry replied. “And at least one of them has stated his intention of waiting me out.”

James strongly suspected he knew who that might be. “Nankivell?

Harry looked startled. “How did you know?”

“An educated guess. I met him on the way. He sends his regards to you and Sophie.”

His cousin frowned, irritated. “Damn his impudence!”

James raised his brows. “I thought he was a friend of yours?”

“He is, in a manner of speaking. But that doesn’t mean I’m about to hand over my youngest sister to him, just like that. He’s more than ten years older than she, for pity’s sake!” Harry’s frown deepened. “And there are other reasons I don’t favor the match, but I shan’t go into them at present. Of course, Mother thinks it’s quite a feather in Sophie’s cap to have attached a baronet, and one of such ancient lineage, to boot.”

“How does Sophie feel about it herself?” James asked.

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