Читать книгу Regency Affairs Part 2: Books 7-12 Of 12 - Ann Lethbridge - Страница 34

‘There you see, all done.’ Sophie held up the still life of wax fruit in a silver bowl for Richard’s inspection a few days later. Her eager expression lit the room with its glow.

He’d done the right thing coming here, instead of going to the club or sitting and fuming about his mother’s spending habits. Somehow being with Sophie made all of this morning’s annoyances fade into insignificance.

He took the painting from her and their fingertips brushed. A warm pulse shot up his arm. Demonstrating to Sophie that he was far removed from Cawburn was getting harder and harder when all he wanted to do was to take her into his arms and kiss her.

Rather than having his desire for her diminish through seeing her, it had grown. But more than that he looked forward to pitting his wits against her and talking to her about things which had nothing to do with his family or the other demands on his time. When he was with her, everything faded into insignificance.

‘You are very talented.’ Richard concentrated on the painting and regained control of his body. Sophie was not the sort of woman one seduced; she was the sort of woman one married. ‘That painting is more than a simple bowl of fruit. It looks good enough to eat. And I love how the shapes complement each other.’

‘It is fine, but the apple gave me trouble. The red proved harder to get right than I thought it would.’

Sophie moved closer to him and their shoulders accidentally touched. Richard kept his body rigid.

‘I could never do something like that. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.’

‘I had a strict drawing mistress. Do you know how many different colours a simple shadow can be? They are not dabs of black paint.’

He shook his head. Even now, Sophie wanted to belittle her accomplishments. ‘It is more than simple-rote, schoolgirl painting. There is something indefinable here. You must learn how to take a compliment, Sophie, or I shall be forced to pay you them until you do.’

Her eyes danced. ‘How do you take a compliment?’

‘You say thank you and don’t attempt to deflect it or apologise for it or make it seem less than it is. All it takes is a thank you and nothing more.’

He put the painting down. Sophie needed to have her confidence grow. He could only keep making excuses to his mother about the need to ensure Hannah’s engagement for so long, before awkward questions would be asked, and Richard knew he wasn’t ready to share Sophie with his family. His relationship with Sophie had no bearing on his relationship with his mother or sister.

‘I shall try to remember that.’ Sophie gave a mocking curtsy. ‘Thank you for the compliment about the painting.’

‘Shall we practise to make sure you understand the concept? Your blue dress looks exceptionally charming today, Miss Ravel.’

‘This is hardly necessary. I do know how to take a compliment.’

‘I used to think your eyes were the colour of sapphires, like your ring, but now I see the colour depends on your mood. Midnight blue when you are angry right through the blue of a summer’s day when you are happy.’

‘You are being foolish. Cease this blather immediately.’

He took a step closer. ‘I intend to keep paying you compliments until you show me that you know how to take them. I prefer your hair like this when it makes little ringlets of its own accord.’

Sophie wet her suddenly aching lips. Her entire being trembled. Where did he intend taking this game? Her dreams had been full of him lately but ever since the carriage ride, he had made no attempt to kiss her.

‘Thank you,’ she gasped out as he took another step closer, so close her skirt brushed his leg. Another step, and she’d be in his arms. What was worse, she wanted to be in his arms. She wanted to taste his lips again and see if they matched her memory of them.

‘At last my fiancée shows some sense.’ His eyes danced with a thousand different lights. ‘Shall I continue?’

‘No.’

He inclined his head and stepped backwards. ‘I bow to your no and stop immediately.’

A tiny bubble of amazement burst through her. He’d obeyed her no. She hated that she wished she’d urged him to continue. She put her hand to her mouth, exploring the way it faintly tingled as if he had indeed kissed her. The trouble with Richard was that she liked him far too much.

To cover her confusion, she grabbed the painting and held it out.

‘You may have the painting if you like it. I painted it with you in mind.’

He tilted his head and she caught a sudden flaring in his eyes. ‘It is kind of you. I will treasure it. I don’t think anyone has ever done something like that for me before.’

‘A thank you for the paints and for getting me started on painting again.’ Sophie clasped her hands together and hoped he’d think the redness of her cheeks was from the fire, rather than the awkwardness she suddenly felt. ‘I hope you don’t consider it too forward.’

‘Forward?’ His eyes widened. ‘Perish the thought. I’m very touched and honoured.’

‘It is funny how you don’t realise you missed something until it comes back into your life and suddenly your life takes on a new meaning.’

He stilled. ‘Have you decided to start painting people again?’

Sophie put a hand on her stomach to stop the butterflies. Somehow she knew she had to get the answer right. Because if she got it wrong, he’d go and she wasn’t ready for that yet.

‘I have only ever done pen-and-ink drawings, but some day, I will start using oils for painting portraits. I promise.’

‘I live in hope, then.’

Sophie let out a breath. She had passed the test.

He reached for the painting and his fingers brushed hers, almost a caress. A little touch which could have been accidental, but she chose to consider it deliberate. ‘You will go with me tomorrow to the cricket? The match is an important one.’

‘I look forward to it.’ Sophie held her body utterly still.

‘Out with it, Sophie. What is wrong?’

‘How could you tell that something was wrong?’

‘You always develop a little frown between your brows. And you have glanced at the desk ten times since I arrived. What is on that desk?’

He had noticed that! Sophie forced her features to relax. She walked over to the little desk she used for correspondence and withdrew the letter which had arrived in this morning’s post.

‘I have had a letter from my solicitors. You agreed to my terms for the settlement. No quibbling!’

‘Your terms were the same as I wish for any bride.’ He lifted an eyebrow as if daring her to say differently. ‘I thought you would have made them much more onerous and demanded a massive allowance or something outrageous. Having complete control over your own money makes common sense.’

‘My stepmother would have questioned it, particularly after I made the claim of undying devotion at the Assembly Rooms. She did look over the request I sent to the solicitors to make sure my interests were well looked after.’

He lowered his voice. ‘When do you plan to tell her about it?’

Sophie chose to assume he meant the letter about the settlement, rather than the bigger question of their false engagement. Her stepmother simply would not understand. And she would not understand why Sophie had to keep on seeing Richard and how precious these moments were becoming to her. She’d start on about a blossoming romance and what a shame it was that Sophie had not agreed to a true engagement when she was asked, instead of being mealy-mouthed.

‘About the settlement being agreed?’ Sophie tapped the letter against her hand. ‘I had to show her the letter.’

‘And is she insisting on that engagement party now the settlement is finalised?’

‘She has agreed to wait until Robert and Henri return. Robert should look over the settlement first was my excuse. My stepmother thinks I’m overly cautious. You know how she adores you and the fact you agreed so readily to the settlement has only enhanced your standing. She refuses to hear a word against you.’

‘Why did you tell her you wanted to wait?’

Sophie turned away from his burning eyes. If she looked at him, she’d be tempted to blurt out the truth. She enjoyed his company and wanted to prolong the time they spent together, but she knew it had to end. There wasn’t a future for them. They were strangers, not friends and certainly not lovers.

She wasn’t going back to the romantic fool who faced utter ruin. And she was determined to marry for love, real and lasting love rather than a fleeting illusion of romance. Lasting love happened quietly, not this sudden bolt of lightning longing she’d experienced in connection with Richard. It reminded her too much of how she’d felt with Sebastian—unsettled and unbalanced. Surely if it was love, she’d feel complete and whole?

She put the letter back on the desk. Her hand trembled. It was far too soon to think about love in connection with Richard.

‘I had to tell her something, otherwise she’d have been penning invitations this morning rather than going out visiting. Needing Robert’s and Henri’s blessing seemed like a sensible excuse.’

He tapped his fingers together and his lips pursed. ‘When are the Montemorcys expected to return?’

‘In the early part of June, no later than the eighteenth. Lady Forbisher always has a ball to celebrate Wellington’s victory at Waterloo and then there is the Stagshaw Fair on the fourth of July. Henri helps with the planning of that. We had a letter from Henri yesterday.’ She kept her head up. ‘The timing should be perfect. All the commotion will have died down. Our parting will go unremarked.’

‘We shall have to hope that Montemorcy sees some reason to object, then,’ he murmured.

‘I’m sure he will,’ Sophie assured him. ‘Robert is quite protective. He was the one who saw through Sebastian straight away. And Henri is brilliant at matchmaking. She is sure to find a reason why we wouldn’t suit if Robert doesn’t.’

The words tasted like ash in Sophie’s mouth. She wanted Richard to deny it was a good idea and that he intended to remain in Newcastle for the summer with her—in fact, that against all expectation he wanted to marry her.

‘It is good to know how long we have left. Early June after Montemorcy arrives back and sees the terms. After he has withheld his consent, we part. Amicably.’ His lips became a thin white line. ‘It is what happens in these cases.’

A pang went through Sophie. He was right. ‘It is the most sensible thing. And it has happened to other people. Our parting will hardly be remarked on. I promise you.’

‘And if it is? How will you weather the storm?’

‘I’ll go to Corbridge with Henri and Robert to ride out any lingering tittle-tattle. I won’t be judged there.’ Sophie kept her head up. It would be the perfect place to recover from the ache she felt now that the date had been decided.

His eyes became inscrutable. ‘Early June, then. It is good to know so I can make plans … for my return to London.’

Sophie brushed away the great empty hollow which opened inside of her at the thought of never seeing him again. ‘But we have until then.’

The dimple in the corner of his mouth deepened. ‘Yes, we have until then. Best not waste any time, Sophie.’

Richard stood on the pavement and looked back at the brown-brick house. The day which had seemed bright and cheerful when he went in had become gloomy and overcast, matching his mood. The first few splashes of rain fell on his hat and frock-coat. Richard ignored them.

He had an ending date for his friendship with Sophie. Early June. Somewhere deep inside him, he had known that this was going to have to end. Only he wasn’t ready. The very prospect of not being able to spend time with Sophie filled him with horror.

He had no wish to be judged unworthy by some former guardian. The man could not even take care of Sophie properly. Richard wanted to know Sophie would be looked after as she deserved to be. Her so-called friends had not even seen that she did much better when she was painting.

There was no hope for it. In order to keep Sophie safe, he’d have to marry her.

He groaned as he remembered what she had said when she refused his earlier proposal. Sophie wanted to marry for love and love was the one thing he couldn’t offer. Love only led to heartache.

‘I will find a way to marry you, Sophie Ravel, but I will not mouth lies.’

Was she truly ready to say goodbye for ever to Richard?

Sophie bit the top of her thumb and tried to concentrate on the cricket match unfolding in front of her. Richard was batting and doing a sterling job of knocking the ball all over the ground after their team had had a disastrous start. The cricketing whites suited his figure. She noticed many admiring glances from the other ladies as he strode out to occupy the crease.

Today was far worse than yesterday. Yesterday, she’d known it would happen some day in the future. Today was the start of the march towards when Robert returned and she parted from Richard for ever. Each moment with Richard seemed to take on an added intensity. It was as if some secret part of her wanted to store every second she had with him so she could remember them later.

Perhaps today, after the match when he dropped her off, she would risk lifting her face up to him and seeing if his kisses were as exciting as her memory of them. She’d use the excuse of him winning the match. With the number of runs he’d scored, he was today’s hero and heroes did deserve their rewards.

‘Are you enjoying the match, miss?’ a well-dressed woman about her age asked, bringing Sophie back to the game which was unfolding in front of her. Richard had just hit the ball for four more runs.

Sophie frowned. There was something vaguely familiar about the woman’s exotic features, but Sophie felt certain they had never met before. She rarely forgot the shape of a face or the eyes. It would come to her in a little while where she knew the woman from.

‘Yes, very much. And it is Miss Ravel, Sophie Ravel.’

The woman regarded the cricket bat which lay at Sophie’s feet. ‘Are you going to play?’

‘My fiancé is batting now and I go in after if necessary. I haven’t played since my school days so I hope I can bat well if I have to go in. It would be dreadful to make a mess of it as our team stands a chance of winning. But there is every chance I won’t have to go in. Only ten more runs. Lord Bingfield did promise he’d arrange things so that I would not have to go in. And it appears he has.’

‘I am Hannah Grayson.’ The woman said the name like she should know it. ‘My fiancé is playing for the other team. He is the bowler for this over. You know, the bowler who took all those wickets in the first few overs. Sir Ronald Ferguson. We became officially engaged last night.’

‘Congratulations.’ A pang went through Sophie. Miss Grayson seemed so happy and in love. She could well imagine how that engagement went. Nothing like her own pretend one. ‘Have you known each other long?’

‘For a year or so, but I never expected things to go so quickly. I thought we were simply friends, even though Mama had hopes.’ Miss Grayson held out her hand where a diamond surrounded by garnets sparkled. ‘Sir Ronald gave me the ring last night. It is completely perfect. I am ever so grateful to my brother. I owe everything to him. I had feared that this day would never come to pass.’

‘Your brother?’

Miss Grayson bent her head and picked at her glove. ‘He came up from London and sorted everything out. At first I thought he wouldn’t be able to stay beyond a day and a night, but he has. It turns out that Sir Ronald was the year below him at Eton and that made everything easier. And yesterday evening, everything fell into place. The settlement, everything. I feel so happy that I could embrace the whole world. Isn’t it marvellous how things work out sometimes? Love is a truly wonderful thing.’

‘Yes, it is. I am very pleased for you.’ Sophie composed her face. Somehow Miss Grayson’s unbridled joy only served to underline the hypocrisy of her own position. Getting married should be because you were in love with someone, deeply and irrevocably. It should not be because society dictates you must marry a stranger in order to save your reputation after an item has appeared in a newspaper. And it should not be because you want that stranger to kiss you. There ought to be more.

‘Do you have a brother, Miss Ravel?’ Miss Grayson asked as the bowler started his run up.

‘I’m an only child. I’ve often wished for a sister, but never a brother. Alas, it was not to be.’

‘I agree it would be pleasant to have a sister, but I shall make do with my brother … for now.’ Miss Grayson’s brow knitted. ‘It is most vexing that he remains unmarried. He truly is the most perfect of brothers. I pray he finds a woman who deserves him.’

‘Maybe he will marry and you will get a sister,’ Sophie said. Miss Grayson did seem overly keen about her paragon of a brother. She had to hope the mysterious Mr Grayson was worthy of such praise.

Miss Grayson’s lips parted as if she wanted to say something more, but a great shout went up and the bowler appealed to the umpire, who nodded and raised a finger, signalling out.

‘I fear, Miss Ravel, my fiancé has taken your fiancé’s middle stump. You’ll have to go in after all. A pity.’ Miss Grayson gave a little clap of her hands. ‘There is only one more wicket to go and then Ronald will have won the match. It is terribly exciting. I had never considered cricket to be anything but dull, but it isn’t. Good luck, Miss Ravel.’

Sophie stood up and grabbed her bat. She swung it lightly to test her arm. She could do this. There were only five more runs required.

On the way out to the middle, she met Richard, who looked furious at making the mistake.

‘Never mind, it was a difficult ball to hit,’ she said. ‘You played marvellously to get us so close to the number of runs required. Before you went in, I feared our side would lose by a huge amount. Now we are nearly level and poised to win, if I can avoid getting out.’

‘Who were you speaking with?’ he asked, his brows knitting together. ‘Just now? Another recruit to the game of cricket?’

‘A Miss Grayson.’ Sophie swung her bat slightly, testing its weight. She was surprised that Richard had even noticed where she was sitting or whom she was conversing with. She had thought he would be totally focused on the game. Her heart gave a leap at the intelligence. Despite everything he had noticed her!

‘Are you acquainted with Miss Grayson?’

‘She has very recently become engaged and wanted to sing her brother’s praises as he apparently enabled it to happen. I was the nearest person to hand,’ Sophie explained. ‘I suppose love will do that—make people overly inclined to speak to strangers.’

‘I regret my mistake interrupted your conversation.’ He stopped her bat swinging and adjusted the grip. ‘You were marvellous to volunteer when Charlton failed to show. It has allowed the entire match to proceed. I never thought you’d actually have to bat.’

Sophie’s heart did a little skip as she basked in his praise, but it put more pressure on her to do well. The last thing she wanted was to let him down. And she had known that taking part in the match was the only way she could spend time with him. If it had been called off, she wouldn’t have an excuse to stay. She would have had to go visiting with her stepmother. The prospect had held little appeal, particularly as it would have meant less time to be with him.

‘It is perfectly fine,’ she said, tightening her grip on the cricket bat. ‘I hope I don’t make a mess of things. I would hate to think we will lose because of me.’

‘You won’t.’ He put a hand on her shoulder and his eyes turned serious. ‘Keep the bat straight and swing if you have to. Keep the bat low and the ball will fall harmless to the ground. There is only one more ball left in the over. Let Armstrong do the rest.’

‘Thank you for the advice.’

‘My pleasure. You will do wonderfully, Sophie.’

Richard allowed Sophie to walk out to the crease and then went towards where his sister sat, shading her face with a parasol.

‘Hannah!’ Richard glowered at his sister. He had known Ferguson was on the other side, but he had thought Hannah would stay at home with their mother, discussing plans for the wedding. He had given his approval last night and had simply assumed Hannah would be too busy to attend today’s match. The last thing he had wanted was Hannah here when he was attempting to manoeuvre Sophie towards marriage. It was a delicate operation, but it was for Sophie’s own good. The last thing he needed was his sister causing mischief.

‘It is not like you to miss a shot,’ his sister said with a faintly smug smile. ‘Ronald clean bowled you. Took out your middle stump. When was the last time that happened? At Eton? Or before that? You see, he is the better cricket player after all. You shouldn’t boast so much, Richard. It doesn’t become you.’

Richard tightened his jaw. He had missed the shot when he saw his sister speaking to Sophie, against his direct orders.

‘I thought you were not to speak to Miss Ravel until I told you that you could.’

Hannah pouted slightly. ‘I wanted to see what she was like. I’d only had a glimpse of her at the Assembly Rooms the night she announced the engagement to everyone. I thought her wonderfully brave, no matter what Mama said.’

‘And you should have told me that you intended on defying me over this cricket match. I would have found an excuse not to bring Miss Ravel.’

‘But I’m pleased you did.’ Hannah clapped her hands together. ‘She is extremely beautiful, Richard. It is the sort of beauty which lasts rather than coming from a paint pot or cleverly dressed hair. And she was sitting on her own. I thought it couldn’t hurt.’ Hannah’s teeth worried her bottom lip. ‘It seemed opportune. I wanted to meet the woman who has made my happiness possible. I wanted to see if she was worthy of my brother!’

‘Did you have to go on about your brother? We had agreed to keep everything separate for our mother’s sake. Sophie needs to remain in ignorance. It is far too risky.’

Richard closed his eyes. Sophie provided a bright spot in his life, untainted by his parents’ warfare.

Would she understand why he loved them both and wanted to maintain cordial relations with both of them, rather than choosing a side? They were both part of him. He did not want to upset the delicate balance that he now enjoyed. Neither did he want her used as a pawn in that war. He could not stand to see Sophie hurt by either of them.

He could be married to Sophie and protect her from the taint of his past. It was possible.

‘Are you going to marry her, Richard, for real? She wants a sister.’ Hannah gave a small sigh. ‘I think we could be friends. It would be so romantic to have a double wedding.’

‘A double wedding is an impossibility. Stop this foolish behaviour and think of our mother. You know my father will insist on being at any marriage of mine.’

‘Then you mean to marry her. Mama was wrong. I knew you must love her.’

Richard watched Sophie face the first ball. Her blouse tightened, revealing her curves as she batted the ball away to safety.

She was secure now and should not have to face another ball if Armstrong did his job. Sophie seemed so eager to play her part in the match and he knew he didn’t want her to be the one to make the team lose.

‘Stop putting words in my mouth, Hannah! Simply because you are love-addled, it doesn’t mean you need to see romance with the rest of the world. I explained about Miss Ravel’s necessity. Nothing has altered my view.’

The last thing he needed was marriage advice from his baby sister. He wanted Sophie in his life. He wanted Sophie happy. Love made people unhappy and foolish.

‘Stop being foolish!’ Hannah whispered in a furious tone and put her hand on her hip. ‘You wrong me and Miss Ravel. I was curious. You have been spending an inordinate amount of time with her. Far more than Mama or I expected when you told us of the plan. Every day seems to bring something more that you must do. No wonder it took so long to negotiate my settlement with Ronald. Both he and I despaired of you.’

‘Allow me to conduct my relations with Miss Ravel in my own fashion. Please.’

Hannah’s marriage arrangements had given him the excuse to linger without family interference. But Sophie had changed the rules and he no longer had time. He had made sure that Hannah’s interests were looked after, now he intended to look after his own. Everything had taken on a new urgency because of his father’s note which he’d received this morning. Against all expectation his father had decided to travel and inspect his son’s choice of bride. He declined to give a date, but Richard knew he had a week, ten days at most, before his father appeared.

If Sophie truly did not want to marry him, he needed to break it off for her sake, but he did have hope his plan would succeed. Silently he damned Cawburn for all eternity for making her wary of men.

It wasn’t love, not the sort of love that he’d seen his parents experience, but he wanted to protect her and keep her safe from harm. He did have feelings for her and they frightened him to death.

Now his sister had nearly ruined his delicate plans. Sophie needed to be cajoled into this or she’d bolt and he’d lose her for ever. He didn’t want to give her the additional excuse of his family. He tolerated them because he was related to them, but he was under no illusion—they were an acquired taste.

‘Go away, Hannah. Keep your nose out of my business.’

‘I shall go back to my seat now if you are going to be horrid,’ his sister said, sticking her nose in the air. ‘You failed to pay me the slightest bit of attention.’

‘Do! And next time, keep your solemn promise.’

Hannah stalked off without replying.

Richard sank down in the chair and contemplated the scene in front of him. Sophie stood at the non-bowling end, her straw hat pushed back on her forehead, poised to run if the occasion called for it while Armstrong faced the new bowler.

A smattering of applause rippled through the ground as Armstrong ran one run. At a moment’s hesitation, Sophie ran the other way. Silently he willed Armstrong to take another, but Armstrong motioned for Sophie to stay where she was.

Sophie nodded and banged the bat on the ground, signalling she was ready for the next ball.

The bowler’s run took an inordinately long time. Richard clenched his fists. All Sophie had to do was hit a single run and then allow Armstrong to face the next four balls.

She swung and missed, but the ball carried on harmlessly to the wicket keeper. Richard silently vowed that the next time she offered to play cricket, he’d refuse. His nerves couldn’t stand it. She glanced over to him and he gave an encouraging smile. Sophie had done a good thing with volunteering, but should he have allowed it? What moment of madness had he experienced?

He had never considered that she’d actually have to bat. A humiliated Sophie would hardly be conducive to seduction.

The bowler lifted his arm.

The ball came in at a slow curve and looked like it, too, would miss her stumps.

‘Leave it alone, Sophie,’ Richard muttered under his breath. ‘Just survive.’

Sophie lifted her bat and swung.

The crack of the bat hitting the ball echoed around the ground.

Richard watched in amazement as the ball arched out over the field, finally landing some feet on the other side of the boundary.

A huge cheer went up from the crowd. Richard leapt to his feet.

Sophie had done it! She had hit a six and scored the winning runs.

He ran out to the crease along with the rest of the team.

‘We won!’ Sophie shrieked happily. ‘And I can’t believe it. We really won!’

‘Thanks to you.’

He took the bat from her and tucked it under his arm before catching her hands. She circled around him, her face lit with happiness. It was all he could do not to kiss her thoroughly in front of everyone. His Sophie had won the match. She’d stepped up and played the game, beautifully.

‘The bowler thought I was a helpless female and sent me an easy ball.’ Sophie gave an infectious laugh. ‘But I was determined not to let the side down, particularly not after you had done so much to get us in the winning position.’

‘Where did you learn to swing like that?’

‘At school. That ball reminded me of the sort of delivery Miss Denton used to give the new girls. I knew I could do it and I did!’ Sophie gave a happy sigh. ‘I really did.’

‘You should have told me that you were a crack shot.’

‘I told you that I used to play at school. It is why I knew how to use the frying pan.’ A mischievous smile lit her face. ‘The third time I hit Sebastian was just like I hit that ball. Thwack!’

‘Makes perfect sense why he retreated,’ Richard said with mock gravity.

She laughed, a happy unaffected laugh, her face glowing with pride at her accomplishment. He wanted to swing her up in his arms in front of everyone and kiss her soundly. She had come so far in the past few weeks. Cawburn hadn’t destroyed her. He fought to keep his arms at his sides.

She ducked her head and spoke to the ground. ‘You have no idea how competitive girls can be at sport.’

‘I can well imagine.’

Before she replied, the team came up and surrounded her, blocking his view of her face. Their cheers rang out throughout the ground, but Richard wanted to murder each and every one of them. Sophie should be his and his alone. And he would do everything in his power to claim her.