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“I do hope you all know how lucky you are,” Sophie said serenely.

“Of course, Sophie,” Rose said. “We are all thrilled. But why so glum?”

“It’s just that… None of this will ever happen for me, I’m afraid.” Sophie snuggled baby Morgan just a little closer to her. The baby had fallen asleep and resembled a cherub in her arms.

“For goodness’ sake, Sophie, of course this is in your future,” Ally said. “Just because Van Arden didn’t have a clue what was good for him doesn’t mean some other gentlemen won’t come along for you. You are lovely, and any man would be lucky to have you.”

Sophie sighed. “I’m four-and-twenty years old now, Ally.”

“I’m your sister. I know when your birthday is. Why you chose to forgo this season is beyond me. With Lily, Rose, and me all helping you, you would’ve been the belle of the ball.”

“I didn’t want to impose on the earl’s generosity.”

“The earl’s generosity? He’s our stepfather. He’s happy to do it. Anything for Mother. He adores her. He even gave us dowries.”

“Yes,” Sophie said, “which you didn’t need, since you married his son.”

“All the more reason for you to let him spend his money on you. He could have given you a lavish season, and you would have had so much fun. I’m positive you would have met someone perfect.”

Sophie shook her head. “Honestly, Ally, I have no interest in a season, and I never have, as you well know. We must all face it. I am an old maid—the oldest of the four of us and the last left. I am too old to marry now. I have accepted my lot in life. I’ll be the spinster auntie and spinster first cousin once removed to all of your children. It will give me joy to watch them grow.”

Rose smiled. “We will all adore watching them grow,” she said in her gentle way. “And I promise you that you will enjoy watching your own children grow as well, Sophie.”

Sophie returned Rose’s smile, though she wasn’t really feeling it. “Let’s do talk about something else. My spinsterhood is hardly a subject for such a fine afternoon as this. What is happening in your lives?”

“Well, my breasts are the size of watermelons,” Lily said dourly.

Ally let out a loud guffaw, and even Rose chuckled, but Sophie gasped.

“Goodness, Lily.”

“I’m sorry to offend your delicate nature, Sophie, but that little marquess you’re holding gobbles up milk like there’s no tomorrow. And let me tell you, I make it like there’s no tomorrow.”

“As do I,” Rose said with a sigh. “But it does give me such joy to know that I am feeding my child from my own body. Wouldn’t you agree, Lily?”

“Of course, I love the little lad. He’s everything Daniel and I had hoped for. But I can tell you that I’m looking forward to the day when I’m not carrying around two cannonballs in my corset.”

“I can’t say this is the subject I was hoping for when I asked that we talk about something else,” Sophie said.

“I have some news,” Rose said. “Cam says Mr. Newland is looking for some new talent for his upcoming musicale.”

“Thank the good Lord,” Lily said. “I am so tired of that prima donna Nanette Lloyd.”

“Yes, she does think quite highly of herself,” Ally agreed. “But she sings beautifully. However, Sophie, as enchanting as her voice is, it is does not hold a candle to yours. You should consider auditioning for Mr. Newland.”

Sophie let out a laugh. Imagine, her auditioning to be a public spectacle. Absolutely not. She was a lady of the peerage, after all—and fairly much fearful of her own shadow. “Ally, that is absurd. How could you even think such a thing?”

“Because you’re so talented, my dear. Don’t you agree, Lily, Rose?”

Their cousins both nodded.

“Absolutely, Sophie,” Lily said. “The fact that you never sing for anyone besides us is a crime.”

“I have to agree with Lily.” Rose nodded. “Your voice is so unique, so delicate. Nanette is talented, but your voice has an ethereal quality, something I’ve never heard in one of Mr. Newland’s musicales.”

“Really, Rose, you aren’t suggesting I audition as well?”


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