realized that Sophie must now be seventeen—soon to be eighteen years of age.” He turned to give her a smile of approval. “And I am gratified to see that she has grown into a young lady of quite remarkable beauty.”
He sobered and assumed an expression of suffering. “Alas, I was nearly to Lord Leach’s office before I had sorted out all the evidence and realized that it was most probably my beloved family that I had so thoughtlessly slighted. But you see that I have come to you at the earliest possible moment to make amends.”
A heavy silence greeted his long-winded explanation.
Albert cleared his throat and began again. “It has been the greatest source of sadness to me that I have been unable to visit you at Vaile Priory these past years. My life has been completely occupied with duty and hardship. My father has been ill; I’ve been obliged to assume his responsibilities. We have had poor harvests and much sorrow on our island. At last, I am happy to say, I have been able to ease the suffering of my people. Their lot is happier and continues to improve, for which I am deeply grateful. Now I am again able to indulge my own needs for warmth and friendship.”
He glanced from one lady to another. Lady Englewood had taken a handkerchief from her reticule and was applying it to her eyes.
“I have come to wonder,” he continued, “if I have not, perhaps, been too self-denying these past years—my mother would have guided me if she had lived. I am convinced that a man should sometimes—in the most important things—allow his heart to govern his head.”
Sophie, Jeanette, and Lady Biskup stared into space with glazed expressions, but Lady Englewood reached out a hand.
“Poor boy,” she commiserated, “your words ring so true. And a woman’s head should always be governed by her heart.”
She caught sight of Jeanette’s quizzical expression, and her eyebrows rose sharply. “No, no, that is not what I meant to say.” She twisted her handkerchief between her fingers. “One’s duty is of paramount importance. One should never allow one’s heart to cloud one’s judgment.”
Albert shook his head. “I have lived by that maxim these past four years and have found no pleasure in it, ma’am.” He turned to Lady Biskup. “But now that my friends have gathered around me again, I am confident I’ll feel a lifting of the spirit.”
He bowed. “I am planning a small dinner party tomorrow evening and would be delighted to have all of you, my dearest friends, join me.”
Lady Biskup nodded coolly. “You must excuse us, Albert. We are not settled in as yet.”
“I shall trust then that you will soon honor me with your company.”
He glanced at Sophie, his face soft and ingratiating. To her surprise, she felt a flutter of annoyance. He waited a moment, his gaze lingering on her, before he turned back to Lady Biskup.
“I shall bid you good day, now that I have delivered my best wishes and welcomed you to town.” He gave her a radiant smile, then bowed with equal cordiality to each of the ladies.
If he had hoped to be detained by gracious urgings, he was disappointed. While the others kept their gazes downcast, Lady Biskup nodded brusquely and said, “Good day, sir.”
With a sigh and a nod to them all, Albert departed.
“Well, the poor young man,” Lady Englewood breathed. “I’m sure I cannot bear to see him so pulled down.”
“Poor young man, nonsense!’ Lady Biskup sniffed. “I’ve never heard such utter fustian in my life! Let us face the facts. He cuts us, and now he is sorry. A more conniving and false-hearted creature, I cannot imagine—”
“But he is so delightfully handsome,” Lady Englewood mourned. “He has a smile like an angel.” She turned to her daughter and wagged a finger at her. “Now, Jeanette, I must warn you. You are not to fall in love with him, do you understand me? I shall not have you saddle yourself with a pauper and a musty old castle full of mold and