It troubled Ned how readily they assumed they’d have no place in his life once he married. As if he would sacrifice his own mother and father on the altar of social acceptance. He never would. And he damn well wouldn’t permit them to sacrifice themselves.
“Not his young lady?” his mother echoed in disbelief.
“No, mother, she’s not,” Ned said firmly. “Not now. Possibly not ever.”
His mother snorted. “She’d be a fool to refuse you.” There was a thread of scorn in her voice, as if Sophie had already rejected him out of hand. “Haven’t all the girls in Cheapside been chasing after you these many years and more? Girls from good families—prosperous families—with a sight more to their name than aristocratic airs and graces. You could have your pick of them.”
Ned removed his hat, running a restless hand over his hair. “It’s a Christmas party. That’s all. Let’s not make more if it than it is.”
“A Christmas party at the country home of a baronet,” his father remarked to his mother. “Hard to make more of that.”
“And Walter Murray’s to be there as well? I trust he’s not angling after the younger sister.”
Good God. Ned certainly hoped not. “He’s helping make up the numbers. I understand the village vicar will be there as well, along with his wife and sister. It won’t all be the gentry. And even if it were, you’re every bit as respectable as—”
“Oh, my heavens,” his mother breathed. “Is that Appersett House?”
Ned was in the backward-facing seat and had to twist round to see properly. His mouth went dry at the sight of the coldly elegant Palladian mansion looming up before them. He’d expected something spectacular. Appersett House had a much-vaunted reputation for its beauty. But he wasn’t prepared for the awe-inspiring dignity of all that curving honey-colored stone.
“I assume it is,” he said. “Unless we’ve taken a wrong a turn somewhere.”
Ned’s father had gone a little pale. So had his mother. She scanned the gravel drive. “Which one is she, Ned?”
Ned looked out the window as the carriage came to a halt. “I don’t see Miss Appersett, or her parents.”
Not that much was visible amongst the flurry of liveried servants unloading trunks and stablemen unhitching horses. The guests he did see were all bundled up in dark wool topcoats and voluminous cloaks, their heads covered in tall beaver hats and fussy feather-trimmed bonnets. He supposed he and his parents looked little different as they climbed out of their hired coach.
A footman appeared at the door to assist them down. “Welcome to Appersett House.”
It was a sentiment echoed by the elderly butler who ushered them into the marble entry hall. Sir William and Lady Appersett were poised to receive their guests there, along with Miss Appersett’s sister, Emily. But it was Sophie herself who crossed the hall to greet them, looking warm and radiant in a dress of russet-colored velvet, her dark hair swept up in a glass-beaded net. She sparkled in the light cast from a magnificent crystal gasolier suspended low from the ceiling.
Ned’s pulse quickened. How well she looked. How perfectly at ease amidst so much splendor. “Miss Appersett.”
“Mr. Sharpe.” She turned to his parents and smiled. “And you must be Mr. and Mrs. Sharpe?”
Ned quickly dispensed with the introductions. His parents had assumed their all-too-familiar mantle of cool civility. They were not the warmest people at the best of times. Not even with him. But when they felt themselves at any sort of disadvantage, their temperature always dropped by several more degrees.
“I’m so pleased you could come,” Sophie said. “I trust you had a pleasant journey?”
“Very pleasant,” his father replied stiffly.
“And very wet,” Ned added. “Though the rain seems to have stopped for now.”
“Oh, yes,” Sophie said. “There’s a distinct chill in the air. And did you see the clouds? It means the snow will start soon. Tomorrow, probably, or the day after.”
Ned’s mother was looking at Sophie as keenly as she often looked at a bolt of fabric when assessing it for flaws. “You have a fine home, Miss Appersett.”
Sophie’s smile faded a little under his mother’s scrutiny. “Thank you, ma’am. It’s my father’s pride and joy. Once you’ve rested, I’m sure he’ll want to show you all the latest modernizations. Won’t you, Papa?”