Only Eloise demanded an explanation. Sophie was taking tea with her mother and rather absentmindedly fending off the suggestion that she eat at least one partridge a week in order to sustain the growing babe.

Then her mother folded her hands in her lap and looked at her. As always, Eloise’s back was as straight as a poker.

“Was it the languages, Sophie, chérie?”

For a moment Sophie didn’t understand the question.

“Languages?”

“Was it the languages that pulled you and Patrick apart?”

Sophie flushed. “Oh no, Maman. At least, I don’t think so.”

Eloise’s eyes sharpened. “You don’t think so?”

“When he found out—in Wales—he did seem—”

“It’s my fault,” Eloise cried, anguish in her tone. “I should never, never have allowed your father to have his way! All that education has given him a dislike of you, hasn’t it?”

Sophie shook her head. “I don’t think so, Maman. Patrick simply doesn’t care very much for me either way. He forgets that I exist.”

“He couldn’t do that,” Eloise said simply.

Sophie smiled at her. Whatever her mother’s faults, she was fiercely loyal. “It’s not so bad, Maman, really. I don’t mind very much. And Patrick … he has his own amusements.” She shrugged. “He does not appear to notice whether I’m around or not. In fact, he suggested that I come back here and stay with you and Papa in the fall. He will be traveling to the Ottoman Empire as an ambassador.”

Eloise’s face was as sharp as an eagle’s. “Your father will see about that! So Foakes thinks he can toss his bride out like a piece of laundry, does he! And what about the babe?”

Sophie’s hands twisted in her lap. Somehow it all sounded so much worse when her mother formulated it. Her eyes filled with tears. Sophie cried at the drop of a hat these days.

“Please, Maman,” she said, her tone half stifled. “Can’t we just let it be? There’s nothing anyone can do—please don’t tell Papa.”

Eloise sat down next to her daughter on the couch and wrapped a loving arm around her. “Don’t worry, mignonne,” she said soothingly. “You think about yourself and the babe. We would love to have you make us a long visit in the fall.”

Tears dripped onto Sophie’s hands. “I don’t want to talk about it.” But she continued anyway. “I never made a fuss about Patrick’s mistress. But it made no difference. He stopped coming home in the evenings. And then … and then he … We don’t talk. So I didn’t know that he was a duke, and I didn’t know he was going to Turkey—just when the baby is to be born….”

“We won’t mention it again,” Eloise said soothingly.