The Temporary Betrothal. Lily George

do—it was the most attractive one she owned, for it darkened her eyes to a sapphire shade.

      She scurried about the room, pulling on her stockings, tossing on her gown and pulling on her black kid slippers. Her hair—oh, dear, her hair. She had no time for a complicated style. A simple ribbon would have to do. There. She looked presentable, if not exactly alluring. She wrenched open the door—and tripped headlong over Lucy, who was strolling down the hall.

      “Wherever are you off to in such haste?” Lucy propped Sophie up by the shoulders, saving her from tumbling onto the floor.

      “St. Swithins. I am attending Sunday services.” Sophie righted herself and checked to make sure her hair hadn’t come loose.

      Lucy’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “You never mentioned going to services before.”

      “Um...” Sophie unsuccessfully fended off a blush. Her cheeks were scorching hot. “I only just remembered it.”

      “Hmm.” Lucy stepped backward, planting her fists on her hips. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Lieutenant Cantrill, would it?”

      Botheration. It was best to go ahead and admit defeat. The blush told all. She nodded, smiling at her friend. “He’s a friend of my family, after all. Would you like to accompany me?”

      Lucy gave her head a decisive nod. “Of course. Let me just get my wrap.”

      Bath was now her adopted hometown, its streets and alleyways becoming more familiar with each passing day. She struck out for St. Swithins with confidence. Sophie and Lucy skirted the Circus, glancing at the enclosed garden that would surely begin budding soon with warmer weather, and continued up Bennett Street, past the gracious, aloof Assembly Rooms. A month or so from now, Amelia would begin attending functions at these rooms with her father, and perhaps with Lucy as her chaperone.

      It was beginning to smell like spring, the scent of moist earth and leaves filling the air. For some reason, it smelled of home—like working in the miniscule garden with Harriet at Tansley Cottage. Sophie blinked back sudden homesick tears. Yes, Bath was becoming more familiar, but Tansley would always be home.

      When they arrived at the church, it was already crowded with a mixture of Bath Society and the lowlier masses, all milling about the narthex, greeting each other with nods and smiles. What a relief Lucy had come, for otherwise, she might feel quite lost in this crush of people. The lieutenant was nowhere in sight. Sophie fought to keep the disappointment from showing on her face as they chose seats in the pews near the rear of the church.