room, looking for a hiding place. Her mother would check the wardrobes, and Letty wouldn't be able to contain herself if Sophie hid under the bed. Sophie's gaze fastened on the windows.
"I just can't take another proposal, Letty. Papa is so sure that I am about to wither and die on the vine at the grand age of one and twenty that he encourages any remotely eligible man to propose. Do you remember the widower from Cornwall, Sir Gresham? Papa led the poor man to believe I should be glad to entertain an offer."
Sophie threw the casement back.
"What are you doing, miss?"
"I'm going out."
Letty wrung her hands. "It's three stories down."
"I won't fall. Don't give me away."
Sophie hoisted a stockinged foot up to the sill. There was a ledge of sorts running between the windows.
"They'll see you."
"I daresay neither the squire nor the vicar would look up. The squire might get a crick in his back, and the vicar's collar is so stiff it should saw a hole in his head. I shall be fine."
Sophie suffered a moment's qualm as she stared down at the half-circle drive in front of the house. Better to not look down at all.
"Sophie, darling, you must come to the drawing room," called her mother from the hallway. "If you hurry you might change to the peach dress."
Uh-oh. Sophie nearly hated that gown. Almost every time she wore it, her parents would plunk some poor besotted fool down in front of her. She turned and backed out through the window, her stockinged foot searching for the ledge. Her skirts and petticoats hampered her hasty departure. She pulled them up far enough to get her knees on the sill and made a lunge for the ledge beside the window.
The door clicked open. With desperate fingers, she clutched the mellow brick and inched sideways. Oh Lord, what if she fell and broke her neck? Why, then she wouldn't have to fend off suitors. She closed her eyes, resisting the temptation to peek.
"Sophie, where are you? Letty, isn't she here? The footman downstairs thought he saw her heading toward her bedroom."
Sophie could just picture Letty's slow shake of the head.
"Have you checked the wardrobe? I know she was in the house."
"I believe she went outside, ma'am."
Good girl, Letty.
Heavens, why have you opened the window?" said Sophie's mother. "Shut and latch it now."
"Yes, ma'am," mumbled Letty.
Sophie watched in horror as her maid shut the window and lowered the catch.
TWO
Keene paused his horse in the driveway. The pale brick of the Farthing house was a soothing sight, until he caught sight of the upturned petticoats and drawers on a young woman backing out a window three stories up.
Sophie.
He heaved a deep sigh. Before he expelled it fully, his breath snagged in his throat.
Surely the news of his impending arrival and proposal hadn't prompted her to leap to her death. When he had her alone, he would explain that she could refuse his suit. A small hope surged through him. Certainly his father could find no fault with him if Sophie rejected him. He trotted his horse toward the house, hoping she didn't fall in front of him. He hesitated to call up to her for fear he would startle her.
The wind whipped her petticoats and long blonde curls. From what he could see, she had a rather nice form, not that he liked the idea of his future wife displaying her backside to the whole countryside. She straightened on the decorative ledge. Her full skirts settled around her ankles where they belonged. She inched away from the window.
Whatever she had in mind, leaping wouldn't have required a move away from the casement. Walking along ledges was probably her preferred method of traveling between rooms.
Keene shook his head and walked his horse around back to the stables. A waiting groom took his reins. Earlier in the day, he had sent his carriage ahead to inform them of his arrival. His father had also included a letter, which Keene presumed contained news of his suit. Upon entering the house, he was led to the
"I just can't take another proposal, Letty. Papa is so sure that I am about to wither and die on the vine at the grand age of one and twenty that he encourages any remotely eligible man to propose. Do you remember the widower from Cornwall, Sir Gresham? Papa led the poor man to believe I should be glad to entertain an offer."
Sophie threw the casement back.
"What are you doing, miss?"
"I'm going out."
Letty wrung her hands. "It's three stories down."
"I won't fall. Don't give me away."
Sophie hoisted a stockinged foot up to the sill. There was a ledge of sorts running between the windows.
"They'll see you."
"I daresay neither the squire nor the vicar would look up. The squire might get a crick in his back, and the vicar's collar is so stiff it should saw a hole in his head. I shall be fine."
Sophie suffered a moment's qualm as she stared down at the half-circle drive in front of the house. Better to not look down at all.
"Sophie, darling, you must come to the drawing room," called her mother from the hallway. "If you hurry you might change to the peach dress."
Uh-oh. Sophie nearly hated that gown. Almost every time she wore it, her parents would plunk some poor besotted fool down in front of her. She turned and backed out through the window, her stockinged foot searching for the ledge. Her skirts and petticoats hampered her hasty departure. She pulled them up far enough to get her knees on the sill and made a lunge for the ledge beside the window.
The door clicked open. With desperate fingers, she clutched the mellow brick and inched sideways. Oh Lord, what if she fell and broke her neck? Why, then she wouldn't have to fend off suitors. She closed her eyes, resisting the temptation to peek.
"Sophie, where are you? Letty, isn't she here? The footman downstairs thought he saw her heading toward her bedroom."
Sophie could just picture Letty's slow shake of the head.
"Have you checked the wardrobe? I know she was in the house."
"I believe she went outside, ma'am."
Good girl, Letty.
Heavens, why have you opened the window?" said Sophie's mother. "Shut and latch it now."
"Yes, ma'am," mumbled Letty.
Sophie watched in horror as her maid shut the window and lowered the catch.
TWO
Keene paused his horse in the driveway. The pale brick of the Farthing house was a soothing sight, until he caught sight of the upturned petticoats and drawers on a young woman backing out a window three stories up.
Sophie.
He heaved a deep sigh. Before he expelled it fully, his breath snagged in his throat.
Surely the news of his impending arrival and proposal hadn't prompted her to leap to her death. When he had her alone, he would explain that she could refuse his suit. A small hope surged through him. Certainly his father could find no fault with him if Sophie rejected him. He trotted his horse toward the house, hoping she didn't fall in front of him. He hesitated to call up to her for fear he would startle her.
The wind whipped her petticoats and long blonde curls. From what he could see, she had a rather nice form, not that he liked the idea of his future wife displaying her backside to the whole countryside. She straightened on the decorative ledge. Her full skirts settled around her ankles where they belonged. She inched away from the window.
Whatever she had in mind, leaping wouldn't have required a move away from the casement. Walking along ledges was probably her preferred method of traveling between rooms.
Keene shook his head and walked his horse around back to the stables. A waiting groom took his reins. Earlier in the day, he had sent his carriage ahead to inform them of his arrival. His father had also included a letter, which Keene presumed contained news of his suit. Upon entering the house, he was led to the
Similar Books
Five Great Short Stories
ANTON CHEKHOV
An Unlikely Countess
Jo Beverley
WINDOW OF TIME
DJ Erfert
LC 04 - Skeleton Crew
Beverly Connor
Healing Her Spirit (Serenity Springs Book 2)
Dawn Sullivan
Fallen Angels
Natalie Kiest
Hope
Lori Copeland
Obsidian Wings
Laken Cane
Two for Flinching
Todd Morgan
Rule of the Bone
Russell Banks