Page 65 of The Gentlewoman Farmer

All three women burst into a fit of girlish giggles.

“We have done it!” Agnes said. The three women joined hands, smiling through the window.

Talland, Cornwall

7 August 1750

Dear Philip,

It hasn’t been long since I left Bramblefields. I wish our parting had been different, that I had spoken with you instead of leaving a note behind. I put that note in the book you’re reading. Did you find it? I wonder if there will ever be a day when we don’t depend upon letters. When the spoken word will be sufficient for us, and we will speak in person rather than by pen and ink. Oh, that the day may come quickly!

Yours always,

Sophia

Chapter 29

5 July 1753

“Wait,” Sophia said, her mouth still against Philip’s. “Why did you go to London? Why did you go with Miss Spencer?” She pulled away from him and took in Philip’s face. His quick breath rose against a rumpled cravat and lapels. She’d done that. The tint of his flushed face hinted at her own.

His blinked. “Miss Spencer?”

“Yes, I was told you went to London with the Spencers.” After the way Philip had kissed her, her next words sounded ridiculous. “I thought you had feelings for her since you went to visit her so often.”

Philip furrowed his brow. “I never went to visit Miss Spencer. She is engaged to Mr. Vincent. Didn’t you know?”

Sophia hadn’t heard, but she lightened at the news. Miss Spencer had caught a beau at last, and it wasn’t Philip.

“I went to London to talk to a barrister about your father’s will.”

“Did you?” Sophia’s heart hummed.

Philip pulled some folded sheets of paper out of his jacket pocket and took Sophia by the hand. He led her to a bench in front of the house. Pleased at the diminutive size of the seat, she rested snuggly beside Philip as he opened the papers.

“The barrister we spoke to is a friend of Mr. Jonathan Spencer, and he has seen similar cases. He suggested we add an addendum to the will, stating that unless the farm loses money over three years, the squire may not intervene.” Philip held out a note written by the barrister. “Notice that it is also signed by Lord Malton, an earl—and powerful.”

Sophia read the letter. After she finished, she said, “This might work, but it looks like we will have to file a complaint. My uncle is a Justice of the Peace. Unfortunately, he holds sway over the local proceedings.”

“That is true. This is a legal opinion only, showing that with proper representation, you have a good case against your uncle. However, I’m hoping he is worried enough about his reputation that the threat of a suit would persuade him to leave you be, especially if we have the support of a powerful member of the peerage.”

Sophia nodded slowly. “My uncle is a toady. He will wilt at the mention of an earl. Philip?”

“What’s on your mind? I know that devious look.”

“What if we go to the farmhouse now and throw Charles out? We stage a coup. When my uncle comes, we will brandish this letter as our weapon.”

Philip rubbed his chin but kept his eyes on Sophia’s. “It’s getting late. It’ll take at least an hour and a half to get back.”

“Yes, we are in a hurry. Let’s get my mother. We’ll go to the farmhouse directly and unseat Cousin Charles from his throne.”

“I see by the twinkle in your eye that you’ve made up your mind,” he said.

“That twinkle is all for you. But you are right, I am determined. Let’s make haste. Mother and I need to pack our trunks and be off before Uncle comes home. We’ll need our meddling matrons.”

Philip laughed. “Meddling is the word.”

Sophia and Philip went into the house and were met with the blushing faces of their mothers and Aunt Mary.