Читать книгу Regency Pleasures and Sins Part 2 - Elizabeth Rolls - Страница 66

Charles had still not returned as the dinner hour approached and Sophie’s nerves had worked themselves into a frazzled snarl. Bad enough that she had no idea what his absence meant for the two of them, but she was certain that it spelled disaster for the scheme that she and Lady Dayle had already set into motion.

She tried to distract herself by spending a bit of time with her uncle, who had arrived this afternoon. He was in good spirits and eager to talk about his new position. She listened, happy that things were moving smoothly for someone, but after a few minutes Sophie noticed that he was repeatedly rubbing his left arm.

‘Are you well, Uncle?’ she asked, with a nod towards his arm.

‘What? Oh, yes, fine, fine. An old complaint, no need to worry.’ He pulled his watch from his waistcoat pocket. ‘You’ll have to be dressing for dinner soon, girl, so send your cousin in to me on your way out, will you? We’ve business to discuss.’

Thus dismissed, Sophie did go up to prepare for the evening’s festivities. She dressed carefully, but for once Nell’s chatter did not help to ease her nervousness. Heart fluttering in anticipation, she met the rest of the party in the drawing room, only to find that she had not been included in all of Lady Dayle’s scheming. She gaped in wonder along with the rest when the viscountess led them, not to the dining room, but outside, to a magical twilight picnic.

Surely the old gods must have conspired with the viscountess, for the evening was idyllic, full of soft light with just a touch of a fresh breeze blowing off the lake. On the other side the folly gleamed in the late sun, rivalling the nearer display of sparkling silver and crystal. The tables stood in readiness, as did an array of servants, ready to serve a lavish feast fit for the Regent himself. A trio of musicians played soft dinner music, adding a final touch of elegance.

The guests were enchanted. Moods were light and conversation flowed as easily as the wine throughout dinner. But all talk ceased as the evening faded and darkness set in. To a man they watched, entranced, as the full moon rose over the lake. Only Sophie closed her eyes against the beautiful sight. In the face of all her uncertainties, she could not bear to look. It was too painful to be reminded of what had transpired under that moon last night.

The sound of wheels in the drive had her snapping to attention, though. She looked to Lady Dayle, but the viscountess had heard it as well. She directed a nod towards Sophie and set out for the house. Sophie saw her whisper something to the staff on the way, and a few moments later the guests’ attention was diverted. Everyone gasped as tiny lights began to wink on in the trees. Even Sophie was awed. The effect was magical, a bit of the vast heavens come to earth for their delight.

The last lantern had only just been lit when the shadowy figure of Lady Dayle could be seen, returning on the arm of a gentleman.

‘Oh, good,’ Lady Ashford said. ‘Lord Dayle must have come back at last.’

Sophie knew better. She clutched the table as the viscountess stepped into the island of light with an older gentleman on her arm. They stood a moment and Lady Dayle cleared her throat and loudly asked for everyone’s attention.

‘My very dear friends, I ask you to welcome some distinguished new guests to our party. Of course, most of you are already acquainted with Lord Avery.’ The gentleman bowed, and a woman stepped from behind them into the light. ‘And of course you will remember Lady Avery as well.’

A moment of silence met her pronouncement, broken only by a gasp of outrage from Lady Ashford. Sophie’s knuckles grew white as she waited, then she could stand it no longer. Into the breach she stepped. She stood, and dipped a curtsy. ‘Welcome to Sevenoaks, my lord, my lady. I’m afraid you’ve missed dinner, but there is still a sweet course to be served.’

She breathed a sigh of relief as Emily rose then, as well. ‘Indeed, come and be welcome. There is a pair of empty seats here next to my husband and I.’

Lady Avery went to her with a grateful look, while Lord Avery stopped to shake hands with Sir Harold. ‘Beg pardon, didn’t mean to be so dreadfully late,’ he was saying, ‘one of the horses threw a shoe and we were forced to wait with the carriage while another nag was found.’

Sophie was ready to collapse under the weight of her relief. She and Lady Dayle had taken a definite risk tonight. It had taken courage for Lord and Lady Avery to agree to come, as well. For a moment, she’d thought that, without Charles’s influence, their scheme was doomed. But the first step had been taken. Perhaps it was going to come about all right on its own.

But suddenly Lady Ashford was on her feet. ‘I will not,’ she flung at her husband, before turning to glare at Lady Dayle. ‘The effrontery of this is beyond belief! First we are abandoned by our host, then we are subjected to—this!’ She waved a hand in Lady Avery’s direction. The poor woman kept hold of her dignity and kept her chin in the air.

Lady Ashford grabbed her daughter’s hand and hauled her to her feet. Her husband merely hung his head. ‘My daughter is an innocent. She is not to be exposed to such—persons. Come, Corinne.’ She stalked past the tables, nose held high, and paused to sniff at Lady Dayle. ‘We will be packed and gone by morning.’

‘That is well—’ it was Charles’s voice, ringing out of the darkness. Sophie was not the only one startled. She could see several of the ladies in the company clutching their dinner partners ‘—because I will not tolerate such rudeness to a guest in my home,’ he finished.

Everyone watched, spellbound, as Charles stepped forth into the light. Sophie sighed. He was rigged out in full evening garb, all in black and gleaming white. He looked as starkly beautiful as the night sky, but his expression was as formidable as the darkest thundercloud.

Lady Ashford merely continued past him, dragging her daughter behind her. Sophie noticed that Miss Ashford kept her gaze down and did not look in Charles’s direction. Lord Ashford rose slowly from his chair, murmured a soft apology to the company at large and stopped to shake hands with Charles. ‘Not the outcome we hoped for, eh?’ he said with resignation. ‘Ah, well.’ He trailed after his family.

Another moment of silence hung in the air, but not for long. The sound of a clearing throat brought all attention to Mr Huxley, who had, in his turn, risen to his feet. ‘I am sorry to say it, but Lady Ashford’s right in this case,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Unmarried girl and all, it ain’t proper.’ He cast a look at Sophie and followed the others towards the house.

‘If anyone else is of the same opinion, I suggest we hear of it now.’ Charles’s tone said clearly that he would not welcome an answer. He cast a stern glance over the group.

After a moment, when he received no response, Charles continued. ‘Well, then, let us make our new guests welcome, shall we?’ He chuckled and went to shake Lord Avery’s hand. ‘I would suppose this explains why you were not at home when I stopped today to call on you, on my way out of London.’

Lord Avery shook Charles’s hand heartily.

‘Come, Avery,’ Sir Harold said, ‘Tell me what the blasted Whigs have been up to in Parliament since we left.’

‘Come and sit with me, Annalise,’ Lady Dayle cajoled the still-silent Lady Avery, ‘Charles’s cook has prepared these marvelous petite souffléts au chocolat. I give you my word, it is like tasting a cloud.’

At last Sophie could relax. A bit. The remaining guests erupted into enthusiastic chatter. Lord and Lady Avery were accepted into the group with a graciousness that was clearly meant to outshine the bad grace of those who had gone. Sophie saw them exchange an emotionally charged look across the crowd. Lady Dayle trailed past and paused to share a glance of warm accomplishment with her.

It was a start. Lady Avery might never be welcomed by society’s highest sticklers, but she had a foot in the door now. They could claim acquaintance with Viscount Dayle and his family, at least. And it might lead to more, thanks to Lady Dayle, and Emily and the other kind souls here, wise enough to embrace forgiveness and eschew judgments. But first and foremost it was thanks to Charles.

Sophie looked for him, praying he could forgive her meddling and find hope for their own tangled situation in the older couple’s success. He was mixing with his guests, making sure that Lord and Lady Avery were settled and going out of his way to stop and chat with every member of the party. Except for her. Never once did he look her way. She unabashedly watched him, however. She noticed that he looked earnest as he spoke, and Sophie guessed he was apologising for his absence today. She hoped he was also thanking them all for their generous acceptance of his new guests.

Gradually, as was inevitable, the excitement began to wear down. Mr Chambers hid a yawn behind his hand and suddenly everyone realised the lateness of the hour. Lord and Lady Avery were persuaded to spend the night and were bustled off to their rooms. Reluctantly, people began to drift towards the house and their beds. Sophie couldn’t blame them. It had been an amazing evening.

Any hint of fatigue fled, however, when she saw Charles at last making his way towards her. She smiled a nervous welcome as he drew near. ‘Did you really call at Lord Avery’s today?’ she asked.

He didn’t return the smile. His brow was drawn, his face serious as he took her hand. ‘Sophie, I must ask you to join me in the library.’

She searched his eyes for some hint of what could be wrong. Had her meddling upset him further than she had expected? She could find nothing hidden in his expression except for grim concern.

‘Please, my mother and your uncle will be there as well.’

‘Of course.’

In silence the small group gathered in the library. Sophie had seen Jack Alden start to follow, but some signal from his brother had stopped him. Mr Alden had turned back to the party and asked the musicians to play a waltz, so that the remaining guests could dance under the stars.

Sophie sent a questioning glance at Lady Dayle, but the viscountess only shrugged, clearly as mystified as she. Only her uncle appeared to have an inkling as to what was afoot. He wore a strange grin as he watched Charles close the door behind them.

Charles did not look his way. Instead he came and sat by Sophie. She started when he took her hand and cast a guilty glance over at Lady Dayle.

‘I discovered, several days ago, the name of the man who had been feeding stories of my past to the papers,’ Charles said, ‘However, it appeared clear that he was a lackey only, working at the behest of someone else.’

Lady Dayle sent a dark glance towards Sophie’s uncle. ‘Pray, don’t keep us in suspense, Charles. Who was it?’

It was that look that did it; that finally connected all the pieces of the puzzle in Sophie’s mind. The comforting smell of old leather faded away, the tense faces about her were forgotten. She was transported, sitting once again in the night air, feeling the relaxed comfort of Charles’s embrace turn to a hard wall of tension. She heard the strain in his voice as he asked, What was his name?

‘It was Mr Wren,’ she said aloud, wondering. ‘Was it not?’ she whispered, coming back to the reality of the library and looking to Charles. She saw the confirmation and concern in his face, and turned hard eyes to her uncle.

He sat, apparently relaxed and unconcerned, but Sophie noticed that he was massaging the palm of his left hand with his right.

‘I don’t understand,’ said Lady Dayle. ‘Who is Mr Wren?’

‘He is Cranbourne’s man,’ Charles answered.

Her uncle had at last decided to speak. ‘Ridiculous. What would make you say such a thing, Dayle?’ he asked, shaking his head. ‘I know it sticks in your craw that I am heading the Board of Trade committee, but this is going beyond even your reputation for tomfoolery.’

‘It is over, Cranbourne. It is time to tell the truth. It has been you all along. You arranged for that first piece in the Oracle, to discredit both Avery and I, and take us out of consideration for the post that you wanted. It worked well, too, did it not?’

‘I do not know what you are talking about,’ her uncle said. But Sophie saw the truth in his eyes, and something else too. Pain, perhaps, and fear. Good, she thought, letting her shock and fury have full head. He had been hurting her for years—but to find that he had been behind all the attacks on Charles? She hoped the truth did hurt him. It was time he reaped a little of what he had sowed.

‘It is too late to deny it,’ Charles told him. ‘You made a mistake. You should have stopped with the one story. I probably never would have found you out, and you would still most likely have had your chairmanship. But you didn’t stop. You kept grinding the axe, seeking to destroy me. I wonder why?’

Sophie was aghast. She tried to catch Charles’s gaze, to somehow communicate how incredibly sorry she felt.

‘Of course I deny it. I have never heard such foolishness.’ He stood. ‘Lady Ashford is correct. You are a rag-mannered young fool.’ His face twisted, and he teetered forward a step, but he recovered himself and sent a look of loathing towards Charles. ‘You have no idea what you have done. You will pay for this night’s work.’ He stretched an imperious hand towards Sophie. ‘Come, niece. I think it would be best if you and I departed along with the Ashfords.’

But Charles was on his feet as well. ‘Do you think I will allow you near her? I don’t think you understand, Lord Cranbourne. I know what you are. More snake than man. Cold-hearted and manipulative. Do you think I will see her future ruined for your own selfish ends?’ His voice was cold, full of fury and disdain. ‘These are people you meddle with, you miserable worm, not puppets on a string. We will dance for your pleasure no longer.’ He pointed towards the door. ‘You are correct, you will leave, but you will leave without Sophie. I will expose your treachery to the world if you even think to come near her again.’

‘Just who do you think will be believed, boy? Whose word is better? And it would come to that, for you can prove nothing,’ her uncle snarled. His face was pale and he looked to be sweating profusely.

‘I have ample proof. Several damning witnesses, even confirmation from your own household. It should be simple enough to lay it all out before a magistrate.’

‘No,’ Cranbourne rasped. He was cradling his left arm. He took a step towards the door, but listed to one side and fell back.

‘My tonic,’ he pleaded. ‘In my room.’

‘Mother,’ Charles said, the fury fading from his face, but Lady Dayle was already ringing for help.