Free Sophie's Halloo by Patricia Wynn Page A

the approval of the patronesses no less than yourself—and among them, many sirs and the select misters that make up the best that society has. You have, in short, passed the scrutiny at Almack’s, and having done that, need have no further worries of acceptance by the elite.” He finished and waited for Sophie’s gratitude to be dutifully expressed.
    She complied as reasonably as politeness would allow, but Mr. Rollo was not unduly disappointed. He was mentally disposed to fill in wherever her own thanks should be deficient.
    With token confidence in her abilities, then, he offered, “I will not presume to overwhelm you with advice, Miss Corby. Your own good sense will tell you how to go on.” Somehow his superior smile did not convey the same confidence as his words.
    Sophie was grateful for a change of partners when the dance ended. She was not obliged to take a rest from the dancing, for her hand was claimed for every set. Mr. Rollo returned later in the evening to beg for another, and this time he reminded her that the date for their proposed visit to the Royal Academy was approaching. She acknowledged the truth of it, but privately found that she was not looking forward to the scheme with the same degree of delight she had felt earlier.
    Her partner, however, was certain of the pleasure she would derive from it and spent the remainder of the time they were together in telling her of the treat that was in store.
    As he took his departure with a solemn bow, Sophie became aware that Tony was waiting to claim the next dance. Immediately, though the length of the evening had become rather oppressive, her spirits rose.
    “Are you enjoying the assembly, Miss Corby?” he asked, and she fancied he wished for an honest answer.
    “Yes,” she said without affectation, but then added with a haughty look, “having now passed the scrutiny of this august assembly, I need not be concerned that my qualifications to take place among the elite will be questioned further.”  She was pleased to see him start and turn to look at her closely. Her impish smile reassured him, and he answered with a twinkle.
    “Indeed, they will not. I suppose some bore has been telling you so, in case it were not perfectly clear. You have had no small number of partners this evening, and I will not be so rude as to ask you which one has such an elevated opinion of himself.”
    Sophie smothered a giggle. “Do you think,” she asked, after a moment’s pause, “that in my advanced years I shall be quizzing young ladies and gentlemen as they enter these portals? Ought I to cultivate a certain look, a lifted eyebrow, a faint sneer to set their knees a-trembling? Would it advance my own position within the ton?”
    Tony grinned. “No. Leave that for the elite masses.  You must remain just as you are.”
    “But can I?” asked Sophie, this time more seriously. “If balls and assemblies are to become a habit, even a bore, perhaps, shall I always be the same?”
    “I think so,” he answered unconcernedly. “These amusements never lose their essential qualities. It is only when the security of one’s position becomes more important than simply enjoying oneself that one stops enjoying society. And then, of course, you must do things to fight for that position, always at the cost of someone else’s. But you will not do that.” He smiled at her in a way that warmed her heart.
    She coloured and strived to cover up how much he had affected her. “Then I needn’t quiz anyone?” she asked, lightly this time.
    “No.”
    She sighed resignedly. “I had rather looked forward to quizzing someone, but if you insist...” Her voice trailed off, and he grinned as they moved apart.
    The dance was a lively reel and did not permit much conversation, but once again they were together long enough for Tony to ask, “Who was that gentleman, Miss Corby, whom you danced with earlier?” His voice was uncharacteristically indifferent. “I fancied it was he who