Sophie's Voice (Sex and the Season 4)

“Very well, then.” Graves turned to leave. “Tea will be served in a few moments.”

“It serves you right, Ally,” Sophie said. “You see? Not everyone agrees that I should be on the stage.”

“Graves is old school, Sophie. He’s retiring soon, after all. How old must he be, anyway? Sixty years old? Times have changed. We women have voices now—not as loud as we should be, but things will continue to evolve. This is your chance to give something back to the fairer sex.”

“You have faith in me where none is warranted. I have nothing to give.”

Ally started to speak, but they were interrupted by two footmen bringing in the tea tray. Sophie poured tea for Ally and herself, and they each took a plate of finger sandwiches.

“Sophie, I—”

Sophie held up her hand to stop her sister. “Please, let’s no longer speak of this today. You wouldn’t believe how fraught with exhaustion I am after the audition this morning.” And after the kiss with Mr. Newland, but Sophie wasn’t quite ready to talk about that.

“All right.” Ally took a few more sips of her tea and then rose. “If you’ll excuse me, dear, I must lie down. Afternoons are so tiring for me in this condition.”

“I completely understand,” Sophie said.

Ally took leave, and Sophie finished her tea and sandwiches. After the tray had been cleared, she curled up on the divan to read, but soon her eyes fluttered closed.

* * *

Zach rapped forcefully on the door of Brighton Manor.

The door opened. An older gentleman said, “Yes, sir, may I be of assistance?”

“Yes, if you please,” Zach said. “I’m here to call upon Lady Sophie.”

“I will see if she is receiving guests. Your name, sir?”

“Zachary Newland.”

“Yes, the actor. You work with Lord Thornton at the theatre. Do come in, and I will see if Lady Sophie is available.”

Zach paced the marble hallway for a few moments until the butler returned.

“Lady Sophie will receive you. Please follow me to the parlor.”

Zach’s heels clicked upon the marble flooring until they came to a door, which presumably led to the parlor. The butler opened the door, and there sat Sophie, perched on a divan along the back wall.

She looked like an angel, those pink lips slightly moist, her cheeks that bewitching raspberry. His groin tightened.

“My lady,” Zach said. “Thank you for receiving me.”

“You’re quite welcome.” Sophie nodded to the butler. “Thank you, Graves.”

The gentleman left the room and closed the door behind him.

“What is it that I can do for you, Mr. Newland?”

“You no doubt already know why I am here, my lady. I must have you for my new production. Now that I’ve heard you sing, I can’t imagine this role being played by anyone but you. You did know that your cousin-in-law, Lord Thornton, wrote the music?”

“Yes.” Sophie nodded. “And I do adore his work.

He is a gifted composer.”

“I couldn’t agree more, and only your voice will do his music justice.”

“Mr. Newland, I—”