~*~
He waited for her to continue. “My parents think I have failed them, now that he is gone; they hope he comes back, but since they cannot be sure … they fault me greatly.”
“Cassandra has complained of their insensitivity,” William murmured.
Sophia lowered her eyes. “Oh. ’Tis a comfort to know that.”
“I really believe you’ll pull through this, Sophia. Keep to what you know is right for you. Stephen Brown is a fine young man, but I know he’s not your type; I would not see you with him, knowing that he made you unhappy.”
“Certainly not the way you make Cassandra happy,” Sophia said. “That is what I wish for out of my marriage.”
“And you would be right to wish for it. Since it has happened for me, I heartily believe it can happen for all.”
The Wise- and Light-Hearted
~*~
~*~
Stephen had left the precincts of his home, Brock Hall, far behind and long ago. He was hiking in the large spill of woods west of all the farm fields; he was the only one who ever ventured there, save during the hunt, because it was such a journey, with not much to see until one arrived there. The land between Brock Hall and Keighley Wood rolled mildly, like a deadened sea, no wave ever cresting high enough to overlook anything -- anything at all, of interest or not. Oh, Stephen supposed if one was coming to the country for the first time one might think the open expanse of identical hills and orderly fields pretty, but not if that was all one ever saw of the rural part of England.
Admittedly, that was not him -- indeed, he had just been in beautiful Hampshire -- but he got tired of living in this area of Wiltshire all the same.
And he had been home from London only two days. Usually that dullness came only after two weeks; or, if the company was good, never at all during summer and autumn. But a walk to Keighley Wood with his favorite hound Caesar never failed to cure him of listlessness. The wood stood on a dais-like ridge, and once he was within its branches, he forgot all about the bland landscape behind him. He didn’t come here all that often; just when the society at Brock Hall happened, in some way, to be unsatisfying.
The Wise- and Light-Hearted
~*~
Sophia washed and dressed with the rapidity of a hungry bird pecking up seed; she knocked on the gentlemen’s door not fifteen minutes after she left it. However, one of their menservants who was straightening up the room told her they had gone down to the parlor to await dinner.
Her search there was not disappointed. Philip was conversing with the men, but they all stood when she came in and politely relinquished him to her; the brother and sister went out to the courtyard room, where the evening sun made everything warm and friendly. The city noises were not overly loud; indeed, both she and Philip could have sworn they heard a chaffinch singing in the green of Winchester Cathedral, concealed beyond the inn, but just one street away.
The Wise- and Light-Hearted
On a “light-hearted" note, this awesome picture was put together by my co-author Laura! From left to right are Joseph Chapman, Lucy Beacham, Sophia Edwards, and Stephen Brown.
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