“I know.” But it felt so much longer. It felt right. “It’s just . . . nice.” She moved the brush more vigorously over the horse. “My enjoying the moment isn’t harming anything.”
He sighed.
She stopped working and forced herself to look Jonas in the eye. “What?”
“I love your dreams and your optimism and, quite frankly, I can’t imagine life without them. No matter what life has thrown at us, the fact that you’ve always seen a brighter place on the horizon has given me more hope than I’ve ever admitted.”
A warm glow spread through Sophia at the compliment, but a spear of dread cut through the middle, because Jonas’s statement sounded too much like it was leading to something bigger. Something painful.
“Just this once, though, I need you to recognize the distance between you and that light.” He watched her silently, holding her gaze until she was near to trembling. “Promise you’ll stay with me in reality this time, Soph. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Pain was usually inevitable, but she didn’t want him worrying. She wanted him to be as happy and relaxed as she felt, and if that could only happen when he thought she wasn’t headed for trouble, she would find a way to lie.
Rolling her eyes and grinning, she resumed working the comb along the horse. “I’m not going to get hurt, Jonas. I’m simply happy. Life is finally making a turn for us. You watch. This time next year, we’ll have our own little school. When we go to the market, people will wave instead of glare, and we’ll be well on the way to reclaiming our lives.”
Jonas didn’t answer, but Sophia hadn’t expected him to. They both knew dreams were thin and examining them only poked holes. It was much better to just let them be. Some dreams were thinner than others. They would unravel under the act of simply speaking them aloud.
That was why she didn’t tell him that at night, when she was snugged down in that heavenly bed and surrounded by tasteful elegance, she would picture their little riding school with its breeding stable and training rings. Only Jonas wasn’t alone at the fence. Aaron was there too.
It was all too easy to envision. They could work all day, then return to his cozy little cottage at night, where he would banter and tease with her the way he did with Lord Farnsworth. That dream could hardly be shared with Jonas. She barely acknowledged it herself. There was no substance to support her fantasies, and even a hint that they might come true would have scared her to pieces. She just liked to imagine a better world. It had gotten her through the last six years without any great pain when life went a different way.
As Jonas said, there was always another bright light to look forward to.
This was no different, but Jonas wouldn’t understand that. She couldn’t blame him. It was taking all she had to believe it herself.
VOICES DRIFTED FROM her room as she approached it that evening. Cautiously, she pushed the door open and poked her head inside.
Lady Adelaide’s presence wasn’t much of a surprise. She lived there, after all. Her lady’s maid, Abigail, was also to be expected, as the woman had, on more than one occasion, offered to do Sophia’s hair. Last night she’d nearly begged. Something about playing with curls of fire?
The other two occupants were a little disconcerting. Miss Snowley and Miss Hancock flanked Lady Adelaide, and all of them were grinning at Sophia.
“Is something wrong?” She edged into the room.
“No.” Miss Snowley grinned wider. “The first races are two days away. Tomorrow everyone will be nervous and busy, but tonight, we celebrate.”
“Come, come.” Lady Adelaide waved her toward the dressing room. “Your wash water is ready. Abigail will brush out your hair for you.”
When Sophia didn’t cross the room fast enough to suit her, Miss Hancock placed a hand on Sophia’s back and encouraged speed with a significant push. “Don’t dawdle now. We have a surprise, and I get impatient easily.”
Curiosity tinged with fear had her washing swiftly. With a borrowed dressing gown wrapped over her good chemise, she returned to the bedroom, where the ladies still waited.
“Before you say anything,” Lady Adelaide said as soon as Sophia appeared, “let me tell you that I don’t want to hear it.”
How did one answer that?
“Voilà!” Miss Hancock sang as she stepped aside and swept an arm toward the bed.
Atop the covers lay an evening gown. A real one. She didn’t know enough about fine fabrics to identify what it was made of, but she could appreciate the beauty and uniqueness of the gown.
Long vertical stripes of pink and gold blended around the skirt, while the bodice, which boasted a simple neckline and the same high waistline of the other ladies’ gowns, was decorated with three angled rows of shirred fabric.
She twisted her hands into the dressing gown to keep from reaching for the dress. “You can’t give me a gown.”
“Whyever not?” Miss Hancock tsked. “It isn’t as if the three of us don’t have plenty of them.”
The frank statement likely wasn’t meant as an insult, but that didn’t stop Sophia from pulling the wrap more tightly closed to hide the threadbare chemise beneath.
She tilted her chin up, in part to give her fists room to secure the robe’s edges together, but also to show these women they couldn’t order her about, even if they meant well. “That gown is not cast-off. I’m not the same size as any of you.”
“A few inches off the hem and you could wear most anything in my closet.” Miss Snowley tilted her head, looked Sophia over, and frowned. “You might have to take the waist in a little as well. My goodness you are tiny.”
“Like a faerie?” Sophia asked dryly.
“Yes.” Miss Snowley beamed back, unrepentant. “It’s a moot discussion anyway. You have to take the dress.”
“Why?”
“Because it would be rude not to,” Lady Adelaide said.
“Here.” Miss Hancock whipped the dress from the bed and held it up in front of Sophia. “The maid took it in this afternoon, using your other gown as a guide. Don’t worry, we saved the measurements so we won’t have to dig through your clothes next time.”
“There won’t be a next time.” Sophia took a step back to keep from reaching for the dress. All resistance would crumble the moment her hand touched the fabric. “There shouldn’t be a this time.”
“Too late!” Miss Hancock grinned. “Be glad these other two have more restraint than I do. I wanted to provide the entire outfit right down to the stays. Adelaide said that might be too overwhelming.”
Even the idea was too overwhelming. Sophia licked her lips as her fingers released their hold on the wrap. She wanted so badly just to try the dress on. She could see herself in it, the women would be appeased, then she could slip back into her old dress before going down to dinner. That would be enough.
If she pretended this was real, even for an evening, her dreams would gain too much power.
“Very well. I’ll put it on.”
The women clapped, and in no time at all, Sophia was in the gown and seated at the dressing table with Abigail brushing her hair. She couldn’t believe how well it fit.