Netherby Halls

“Well then, Percy,” the marquis said, turning the subject around. “How goes it with the lovely Sophy?”

“Her mother thinks that you still being here means Sophy might yet win a marriage proposal out of you. She doesn’t care t

hat Sophy’s father has posted the banns. She doesn’t care about the scandal it would cause if Sophy were to throw me over for you. She just goes about driving my Sophy mad.”

“Deuce take the woman! Perhaps Sophy is in the right of it, and you should just elope to Gretna Green?”

“That won’t do. I can’t have Sophy whispered about—my angel. That wouldn’t be fair and no way to start our life together.”

“I think I shall call on your future mama-in-law and explain a thing or two,” said the marquis.

“What?” Mr. Lutterel exclaimed, shocked. “You would trouble yourself to do that?”

“Yes, indeed, that is what I shall do.”

A knock sounded lightly at the open door of their drawing room. The marquis looked around to find their butler waiting patiently at the threshold, silver salver in hand. A frown descended over his face, but he motioned for the rigid-looking man to approach.

He removed an ivory-colored epistle from its envelope, and the butler withdrew as the marquis began its perusal.

Mr. Lutterel rose to his feet to bend towards his friend and ask, “I say, Justin, who is it from at this hour?”

As an answer, the marquis placed the letter in Mr. Lutterel’s eager hands, got up, and withdrew to stand in front of the small fire with his hands clasped at his back.

“Good God, Justin,” Percy exclaimed after a moment. “That girl—that poor, desperate girl!”

“Just so, Percy,” the marquis said quietly, his blue eyes glinting with anger. “Just so!”

* * *

Sassy couldn’t sleep, and it wasn’t because of the dream. Something, actually too many things, nagged at her.

She got up, pulled on her warm green velvet wrapper, and began pacing as she tried to sort out her thoughts. While she was thus engaged, the sound of approaching wheels and clopping horses on gravel caught her attention.

She saw a small, covered carriage, pulled by two horses, but it had stopped a good distance from the front door. The dim light from the lanterns at the driver’s seat was not enough to see very much, but of one thing she was certain—a young girl was getting out. She wore the hood of her dark cloak pulled low over her head as she hurried towards the side entrance of the building.

Sassy took up a candle, lit it hurriedly, put the glass cover in place, and made her way down the hall, pausing to suck in air before rushing down the stairs. She hadn’t seen who the young woman was, but her instincts told her the girl would head for the students’ wing. She was correct.

Sassy reached there before her and stood for only a moment before the girl came to an abrupt halt in front of her.

“OH!” cried the young woman.

“Caroline Hughes!” Sassy said, her voice hushed with shock. “What does this mean?” She put the candle up and shook her head. “Why on earth are you painted up like that?” Dawning was beginning to settle in her brain and make her sick.

“I-I am sorry … I was at a friend’s …” Caroline tried to lie.

Sassy shook her head. “Come with me!”

“Oh … Miss, there is no need to wake the headmistress. She knows.”

“Does she? Faith, girl, you will come with me, and we will get to the bottom of this tonight!”

Meekly the young girl followed Sassy up the stairs and into her room, where Sassy set down the candle. “Take off your cloak.”

It was all Sassy could do not to gasp at the sight of the fifteen-year-old in a harlot’s gown of red and transparent glitter. “Caroline, has some young man convinced you to meet with him, dressed like you are?”

“Yes, Miss, you might as well know,” said the girl, looking away.

“My dear child, you are too young, and such clandestine arrangements will ruin you.”