Free Sophie's Halloo by Patricia Wynn Page B

claimed your hand after our first dance.”
    “Oh, that was Mr. Rollo,” answered Sophie matter-of-factly. “He is a friend of Papa’s.”
    Tony nodded, “Ah, I see. You must see him often in Berkeley Square, then.” His eyebrow lifted slightly.
    “Yes, we do,” said Sophie with a forced gaiety. She thought it her duty to sound cheerful about her father’s choice of company. “As a matter of fact, Mr. Rollo has kindly invited me to go with him to see the Royal Academy. Of course, I shall be delighted,” she said, reflecting that her delight lay in the promise of a new attraction rather than in the company.
    “Of course,” said Tony, sounding slightly less than delighted himself. “What day would you be going?”
    “On Friday,” said Sophie with some surprise. “Why do you ask?”
    Tony responded quite innocently. “Why, simply because I am engaged to do the same, and coincidentally, on the same day. And you think you will be going at... ?” He left off expectantly.
    “At two o’clock” was the answer.
    The corners of his mouth turned up approvingly. “Excellent,” he said. “The very best time of day to go. That was when I had intended going myself.”
     

CHAPTER SIX
     
    Unbeknownst  to Sophie,  a change of plans had been made concerning the trip to the Royal Academy. Mr. Rollo had informed Sir John that two of his friends had begged to be included in the scheme, and Sophie’s father had then suggested to Lady Corby that she stay at home. The young people would have more fun without her along, he had said. They would get to know each other better.
    And in reply to Lady Corby’s disappointment at not seeing the Academy, he had promised to take her there himself at a future date, with no intention, of course, of ever keeping it. Lady Corby was not deceived. Her married life was full of such unkept promises, though she did not accuse Sir John of purposefully lying to her, merely of putting off into an obscure future all the things he did not truly wish to do.
    Friday afternoon arrived, and Mr. Rollo appeared at the door; his two friends were waiting in the carriage.  Sophie had only been apprised of the change in plans that morning and was not terribly pleased to find that the “two friends” could have been more accurately termed “a pair.” The young lady and gentleman were seated in the rear seat of the phaeton with, it seemed, no more than an inch between them, and her arm was rather permanently linked through his. Mr. Rollo introduced them as Miss Kate Stanfield and Mr. Repton. They greeted her politely and then returned to their whisperings with an occasional giggle or squeal from Miss Stanfield.
    Mr. Rollo handed Sophie into the carriage, and she took her seat as far from the centre as safety would allow. She hoped that no one would see them and draw conclusions about the two in front based upon the behaviour of the pair in back. Being in this quartet made her feel uncomfortably particular, much more so than had riding alone with Sir Tony.
    Mr. Rollo’s team of horses consisted of four beautifully matched bays. They were showy and obviously well cared for, so Sophie felt safe in opening the conversation with a comment on their excellence. She could not have picked a better topic.
    “Thank you, Miss Corby,” Mr. Rollo replied, beaming. “I do not deny that they are a fine team.  They were purchased directly from Lord Pipcock at a considerable price and only after what must be considered the most fortunate occurrence. You will scarcely credit my good luck. He had just lost his entire fortune at cards the night before and was quite desperate to raise enough funds to flee the country—otherwise he would not have parted with them.” Mr. Rollo’s tone solicited her warmest congratulations.
    “ You , indeed, were most fortunate, Mr. Rollo,” said Sophie with the slightest emphasis.
    “Yes, wasn’t I?” said Rollo, but not without a hint of meriting it fully. “And I have not been