“Newssheets! Only seven pence!” cried a young man standing at the corner with a stack of newspapers.

“Get yer copy of The London Weekly!” he hollered, this time to the captive audience of dozens of people waiting to cross the street, including Sophie and Brandon.

“Do you read such rubbish, Miss Harlow? Or are you particular to The Times?” Brand asked. Sophie managed a tight smile while thinking Oh, hell and damnation.

Not only did she read The Weekly, but she wrote for it. She could not admit to that, nor could pride allow her to acknowledge The Times, archrival to her own paper, as worthy of her attentions. Nor did she wish to lie and said she did not read a paper at all. It would be horrible for Mr. Brandon to think her uninformed, or a fool. She so wanted to impress him.

“I believe most of London reads that rubbish,” she said. When the path was clear, he pressed his hand at the small of her back to guide her through the crowds, and she experienced a shiver of pleasure.

“That is the truth. The Weekly is the one with those scandalous Writing Girls, writing about yet more scandals?”

“The very one,” Sophie answered, thinking that Mr. Knightly, proprietor of the paper, would love that description. “And what is your opinion of those scribbling women?”

Everyone in town had something to say on the matter. She’d never been so keen to know what anyone thought until now.

“I think it is scandalous, but far preferable to some of the other options available to a woman,” Brandon answered and Sophie smiled broadly. He would understand her chant of Seamstress or servant; governess or mistress. She was about to tell him that she was one of those scandalous women writing about scandal, but then—

“Of course,” he continued. “I’d probably feel differently if the woman in question was one of my sisters, or my wife.”

Sophie was, unfortunately, reacquainted with the sensation of hopes crashing and one’s heart sinking.

“Do you have a wife?”

“No,” he said, and she waited for him to say “however,” or “but” or to anything to send her hopes and heart into a tailspin, but he did not, and she dared to dream and entertain thoughts of This One.