The Prince of Ravenscar Read Online Free PDF Page A

could Bethanne have wanted to marry him? So many years she’d spent with him. At least she’d had Sophie. Thank the good Lord Sophie had her mother’s looks as well as her good nature, and as far as Roxanne could tell, nothing from her father. That must frost the old hypocrite.
    Sophie raised her eyes to Roxanne. “I miss Mama, Roxanne. She always loved me completely, no matter what mischief I ever got into. Do you know when she was dying, she apologized to me that I would have to wait a year to make my come out?” Sophie burst into tears.
    Roxanne pulled her close, rubbed her hands up and down her niece’s back. “I know, love, I miss her as well.”
    She’s a grown woman now, Roxanne thought, no longer a child, yet she felt decades older than Sophie, even though a mere seven years separated them. When Sophie had dried her eyes, Roxanne said, “You’ve grown into a splendid woman, Sophie. I am so happy to be here with you.”
    She watched Sophie gather herself, watched her ease her mother in the bittersweet past. She patted Sophie’s hand. She looked, Roxanne thought, fresh and innocent, and so beautiful it would make gentlemen’s teeth ache. The cut of her gown made her waist look the size of a doorknob, emphasized by a wide, dark green belt. The sleeves of her gown weren’t as large as the fashion dictated this season, but still formidable. Her hair was styled with the requisite ringlets cascading in front of her ears, a high pouf of hair twisted atop her head and fastened with green ribbons. Such a style made Roxanne look like an idiot, but Sophie could be bald and it wouldn’t matter. She was a beauty, like Bethanne, and her nominal dowry wouldn’t make any gentleman withdraw, Roxanne knew it. She wore the small pearl earrings Roxanne had given her.
    She looked, Roxanne thought, perfect.
    â€œRemember how short Mama was? And Papa never gained many inches himself. But then I simply would not stop growing. Papa now looks up at me. He says I am too tall, that no gentleman will want a maypole. Then he says this Season is a waste of time and his groats, and I should stay at home and immerse myself in spiritual lessons. When I asked him what spiritual lessons I particularly needed, he could only mutter about making jams for the poor. I told him no one particularly liked my jams, that indeed, Mrs. Pipps, the innkeeper’s wife, had accused me of trying to poison her, and he left the room.”
    Had Reverend William Wilkie been here at the moment, Roxanne would have kicked him. What a tiresome fool he was, but it sounded like Sophie could hold her own with him. It was thanks to Bethanne there was money for Sophie’s Season, and Roxanne’s father had reminded Reverend Wilkie of this fact several times to ensure he didn’t spend it on himself. She said, “Your grandfather is the tallest gentleman in the north, and God blessed us with his height.” She leaned close and whispered, “Papa told me a good height can work wonders to depress a gentleman’s unwanted pretensions. It is a lesson I took to heart. So, my dear, always stand tall, keep your shoulders back, and prepare to look down your nose at all the gentlemen congregated at your slippered feet.”
    That made Sophie laugh. They were indeed of a height, Roxanne thought, and both had the slender build of Roxanne’s mother, but there all similarity ended. Roxanne’s hair was a deep red. Where did that come from? Sophie’s father had wondered, his deep voice bewildered. Her skin was white as new snow, not a single freckle to give interest to all that white, not even on the backs of her knees. Her eyes were a dark green, filled with mysteries and shadows, one of her beaux had once whispered in her ear. He’d tried to kiss the same ear and earned a clout.
    Sophie had an olive complexion, like gold dust had been sprinkled on her by a benevolent fairy at her birth,