George pulled down his vest thoughtfully. He remembered very well the burning desire he had had to marry Eloise out of hand. The hours he had spent trying to persuade her to elope with him! But no, Eloise was always a stickler for convention, he thought. An unwilling smile lit his eyes as he remembered his younger self almost sobbing with lust over Eloise’s white bosom. Ah well, things change.

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Sophie pushed open the door to the nursery and found Charlotte, the Countess of Sheffield and Downes, sitting on a stool next to the fireplace while a small, very round girl seriously pulled a comb through Charlotte’s curly black locks.

“Pippa! Ouch! Sweetheart”—Charlotte twisted about slightly so that she could look into her daughter’s eyes—“you must be very gentle if you wish to become a lady’s maid someday.”

Sophie laughed. “Charlotte, aren’t you afraid that Pippa is looking above herself?”

Charlotte looked up and beamed. “Look who’s come to visit us, Pippa!”

The intent hairdresser dropped her comb and threw herself violently against Sophie’s knees.

“Lady Sophie! Lady Sophie!”

Sophie leaned down, laughing, and swept Charlotte’s stepdaughter, Pippa, into the air. “My goodness, Pippa. If you grow any larger, I won’t be able to pick you up like this!”

Pippa clung tightly to Sophie’s side. “Did you know that I’m going to be three soon, Lady Sophie?”

“Is that true?” Sophie dropped a kiss on Pippa’s nose. “And here I thought your birthday wasn’t for a long time … until the summer had come and gone.”

“Summer’s happening soon,” Pippa replied in a serious voice. “Why, Christmas is almost here, and then it’ll be summer again before you know it!”

Sophie laughed again. “When did you become so wise, Pippa?”

Pippa’s little chest swelled with pride. “Sometimes I’d rather have been born a bird, ‘specially a swallow, but Mama says she likes the way I was born, like this.” She pulled disparagingly at her rosy lawn dress.

Sophie gave Pippa a tight squeeze and put her down. Her eyes met Charlotte’s, brimming with laughter.

“So, Charlotte, you’d rather have a daughter who wears a gown than one who wears feathers, hmm?”

Pippa plumped herself down on the floor next to her mama’s knee.

“Mamas are like that, Lady Sophie,” she announced. “They like their babies to wear dresses and stay clean. Someday you’ll have your own baby, and then you’ll know!”

“What if I have a little boy?”

“Little boy?” Pippa’s brow wrinkled. There wasn’t much thought about little boys in the nursery. “Mama and Sarah are girls,” she said reprovingly. “And so is Katie.” Sarah was the baby, and Katie was the girls’ nanny.