One Touch of Magic Read Free

letter from Sarah’s hand to read it herself. “Surely, though, this new lordship will see the importance of what you are doing! He has to let you keep on, as his uncle did.”
    “I pray you are right, Phoebe.”
    “I know I am. Your work is valued by scholars all over the kingdom.”
    Sarah looked up at her dearest friend. They had been friends for so very long that Phoebe was one of the few people Sarah felt she could share her true doubts with. To the rest of the world, she always kept up a careful facade of self-assurance and coolness. It was the only way she could maintain respect in the scholarly world she and John had occupied.
    “Will the opinions of scholars matter to a major in His Majesty’s Army?” she asked. “Or will he see it as a waste of good property?”
    Phoebe put the letter back down on the desk. “I should stay with you until Lord Ransome comes. I will write to Caro, and tell her not to expect me next week.”
    Sarah shook off her moment of vulnerability, her instant of doubt. She was always strong—she had to stay strong now. “Nonsense, Phoebe dear! Your sister needs you, and I know you are eager to see your new baby nephew. And did you not say Harry will join you there?”
    Phoebe blushed, and turned away with a carefully careless little laugh. “My husband will not miss me for a few more days! And baby William will still be there next month.”
    “But he will be so much bigger. No, I cannot be selfish and keep you here. It is not as if I will be all alone. My sister Mary Ann is coming to stay, and Neville Hamilton will return soon from his wedding trip. He has been of invaluable help at the village, and perhaps he could speak to Lord Ransome, if the marquis has no wish to have dealings with a woman. So, you see, Phoebe, you must go to Caroline, or there will be no room here!”
    Phoebe still looked doubtful, but she smiled and went along with the talk of Sarah’s family. “How is dear Mary Ann? Did she not have an infatuation with poor Mr. Hamilton last year?”
    “A schoolgirl infatuation only! I hope she will be over it, now that he is married. She is to make her bow next year, and Mother has great hopes for her.”
    Phoebe sat back down on the settee, watching Sarah closely. Sarah knew what that speculative look meant—her friend was up to some scheme.
    “So Mary Ann is to go to London!” Phoebe said cheerfully. “And what of you, Sally? Have you not considered going to Town? You would be a much better chaperone for Mary Ann than your mother. And you could stay with Caro and me! What fun we would have! And think of all the eligible gentlemen you could meet.”
    Sarah laughed. So it was another plea to go to Town! She should have known. Phoebe had been trying to persuade her of it for months, dropping hints here and there about the delights of the Season. Phoebe, a voracious novel reader and happily married herself, was convinced no woman could truly be happy without romance in her life.
    “I cannot go next Season,” she said. “I have my work here.” And her one Season, where she had met Sir John, had been a crashing bore, so vacuous and such a waste of time. She had no desire to repeat it.
    “This work cannot last forever,” Phoebe said gently. “Surely it will be done before the spring, which is months away!”
    “After the excavation is finished, I will have to write about it. I have no time for London fribbles.”
    “It would not be all balls and routs,” Phoebe argued. “You love the theater, and there are the libraries, the British Museum, antiquarian societies you could join! I know you did not enjoy your Season very much, Sally, but things are different now. You are a widow, and can do as you like. We could have such fun.”
    It did sound tempting, when Phoebe put it like that. She was a member of several antiquarian societies already, but kept up with them only by correspondence. A chance to attend their meetings in person would be most welcome, as would the