“But you cannot fault the view, Mr. Bradby,” she replied, appreciating his efforts. “It is spectacular.”
“I shall let you know once it stops raining.” He laughed, and she realized it had been his laugh she had heard earlier.
She would have enjoyed engaging Mr. Bradby further in conversation, but her gaze was drawn back to the dark-haired man. Unlike his now smiling friends, he remained somber. She wondered if she could ever be unaware of him when he stood nearby.
Her cousin glanced from her to his friend before saying, “May I also present Charles Winthrop, Earl of Northbridge?”
Sophia’s breath caught as the earl lowered his head in a gracious greeting. Light played across his sharply sculpted face, and her eyes riveted on the white puckered line of a scar that ran from the middle of his left cheek to his temple before vanishing into his black hair. She could not regain her composure before he straightened and caught her reaction. Any hint of emotion vanished from his face while hers grew warmer with each passing second.
Oh, bother! She was making a difficult situation even worse by gawking at Lord Northbridge like an untutored child. Whether he had been injured in the war or elsewhere, she should not stare. Had she learned nothing from being stared at herself? She must say something to atone for her rude behavior.
She chose the first words that popped into her head, praying they would be the correct ones. “I apologize, Lord Northbridge, for mistaking you for my cousin. I hope I did not discomfort you.”
His ebony brows lowered. “Quite to the contrary, Miss Meriweather. I would venture that you are the one who has been put to the blush.”
“A most flattering shade it is,” Mr. Bradby said with another friendly grin. He pulled off his greatcoat to reveal a peacock’s attire. His green coat was worn over an eye-searing blue waistcoat and ruddy breeches.
Jessup rushed in to collect the coats. The footman’s eyes almost popped from his head as he stared at Mr. Bradby’s garish clothing. Then he recalled himself and held out his arm for the other men’s coats. Cousin Edmund handed over his coat, but Lord Northbridge did not remove his. Jessup waited a few seconds, then took the two coats where they could be cleaned and dried.
“Allow me to add, Miss Meriweather,” Mr. Bradby said, “that your home was a welcome sight on such a stormy day.”
“We have rooms ready for you,” Sophia said, her aplomb in place once again. “I trust you will find them suitable for your needs, and I can assure you that each has a splendid view of the sea.” She allowed herself the slightest smile. “Or they shall once the sky clears. If there is anything special you require, please ask, and we will do our best to provide it.”
“Thank you, Sophia,” said her cousin, who then looked at the earl. “Northbridge, don’t you have something special to ask of our hostess?”
Sophia stiffened, unsure what the earl would say. Her cousin had treated her with respect and kindness, but she knew none of these men. Would they hoax her for their amusement?
“I do have a unique request, Miss Meriweather.” His face softened, and she was startled by the change in his austere expression. Something fluttered in her middle, something she was unfamiliar with. Something delightful, something that had appeared the moment his gaze held hers. “You see, I am traveling with my young son and daughter.”
“Of course they are welcome here, as well.” She spoke the words automatically, still unable to look away from his mysterious eyes that seemed to hide so much.
“You are very kind,” Lord Northbridge said, “when we have arrived without giving you a warning that the children would be with us.”
Sophia blinked, breaking the connection between them, as she understood the significance of his words and looked around the room. Where were the children? She did not ask the question aloud, but the earl answered it as if he were privy to her thoughts. A most discomposing idea.
“I had your cousin ask the staff not to mention this to you immediately or to tell you that the children are being taken to the chamber where I will be staying,” Lord Northbridge said. “I thought one shock at a time was enough for you.”
Sophia nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Her cousin was already exerting his place in the household. No wonder Ogden had been aquiver. It was not his way to keep secrets from the Meriweather family, and he must have been deeply distressed to be put into such a position. Had Jessup been avoiding her eyes because he feared she would guess his part in the deception?
The staff was doing exactly as they had been trained. She should be proud they were making the transition to the new Lord Meriweather with such skill. She wished she could do the same.
Sophia forced a smile. “I shall have the nursery rooms aired out immediately, my lord. Your nursemaid and—”
“The children shall stay with me. There is no nursemaid.” His stern words left no room for debate. “If you will excuse me...” He strode toward the door as if he were lord of Meriweather Hall.
The moment he opened the door, two small blurs rushed into the room. Jessup followed, then brought himself up short before he ran into Lord Meriweather. The footman started to mumble an apology, but Sophia walked to where two small children were clambering onto the curved window seat.
“Where is it?” asked the little girl, who appeared to be about six or seven years old. Her dark red hair was trying to escape from beneath her cap. “Where is the sea?”
“Want to see the sea.” The toddler boy beside her, his hair as black as Lord Northbridge’s, jumped up and down on the cushions.
Sophia put her hands on his waist before he bounced off and hurt himself. “The sea is out there all around us.”
“Where?” the little boy demanded.
“In the rain. The rain is filling up the sea. Once the clouds are empty, you will be able to see where the raindrops have landed.” She sat beside the children who regarded her with uncertainty. “Then the sea will be as beautifully blue as the sky.”
“Really?” asked the little girl as her brother popped his thumb into his mouth and regarded her with wide brown eyes.
“Really.” Sophia smiled, relaxing for the first time since she had come into the drawing room. “My name is Sophia. What are yours?”
“I am Lady Gemma Winthrop,” the little girl said with a dignity that seemed too old for her age, “and this is my brother, Michael. He is Lord Winthrop.”
“I am a bearing,” Michael said around his thumb.
Sophia silenced her chuckle because she did not want to hurt the little boy’s pride. “My father was a baron, too.”
Michael lowered his thumb. “Like me?”
“Just like you.”
He grinned and gave a laugh that seemed too deep for a young child.
Sophia wondered if he had inherited that laugh from his father as he had his coloring. At the thought of Lord Northbridge, she glanced over her shoulder.
The earl was staring at them with a taut expression. His eyes snapped with strong emotion. Anger? But what had she done to cause him to regard her with such an expression? Surely he could not be distressed because she had spoken with his children in hopes of making them feel welcome.
She was about to ask what she had done to incite his fury when, beside her, the children grew as quiet as Cousin Edmund and Mr. Bradby. She did not lower her eyes until the earl looked at his children and motioned toward the door. They slid off the seat and edged past him before following Jessup out of the room.
Lord Northbridge said, “The children