Читать книгу Courting Miss Vallois - Gail Whitiker, Gail Whitiker - Страница 9

So she wasn’t a whore, a strumpet or a ballet dancer, Robert reflected as he and Jane walked away. She was an exceptionally beautiful young woman who, thanks to the kindness of Lord and Lady Longworth, was about to be launched into English society. The prospect did not please him. His own reasons aside, it meant she was fair game for the likes of Montague Oberon, and he did not relish the thought of watching the man salivate over her every time he saw her out in public.

‘Behold the prodigal son,’ Jane whispered in her brother’s ear a few minutes later. ‘And more splendidly attired than half the ladies in the room.’

Her assessment wasn’t far off. Not many gentlemen could have carried off the colourful waistcoat and elaborately folded cravat with such panache, but Oberon’s height and bearing allowed him to do so magnificently. His golden curls were swept back in a manner few men could have worn to advantage and his clothes were immaculate. Pompous prig he might be, Robert reflected, but looks, breeding and a fortune allowed him to carry it off with aplomb.

‘Evening, Silver,’ Oberon said when he came within speaking distance. ‘Jane. Lovely to see you again.’

‘Mr Oberon. What a splendid waistcoat. It is surely a modern version of Joseph’s coat of many colours.’

Oberon’s expression was blank. ‘Joseph?’

‘You remember. From the bible.’

‘Oh, yes, of course. The old fellow whose wife turned to stone.’

‘That was Lot,’ Robert said. ‘And it was salt.’

‘Salt?’ Oberon frowned. ‘What has salt to do with it? We were talking about my waistcoat.’ He paused for a moment to glance around the room. ‘Jupiter, what an appalling crowd. I vow there weren’t this many people at the—’ He broke off, his eyes frozen to one spot. ‘Good God, it’s her!’

Jane turned to look. ‘Who?’

‘The girl from the inn. Aphrodite reincarnated,’ Oberon murmured. ‘It is her, isn’t it, Silver?’

Breathing a sigh of exasperation, Robert said, ‘Yes.’

‘Splendid. Then I must be introduced.’

‘I’d like a word with you first.’

‘Later.’ Oberon’s eyes never strayed from the object of his affection. ‘After I speak to the Goddess!’

‘Now. Will you excuse us, Jane?’

‘Of course. I see Lady Jennings sitting on her own and looking rather disgruntled,’ Jane said. ‘I shall go and keep her company. No doubt she will have a few choice things to say about some of the guests here this evening.’

‘Not about me, I hope,’ Oberon said.

‘On the contrary, you are always one of her favourite topics, Mr Oberon.’ And with a smile for him and a wink for her brother, Jane left the two of them alone.

‘Impertinent minx,’ Oberon said without rancour. ‘Is it my imagination or is her limp less noticeable than it used to be?’

‘I am hardly the one to ask given that I never thought it was all that noticeable,’ Robert said, drawing the other man aside. ‘Now, would you mind telling me what the hell you think you’re doing?’

Oberon’s gaze shortened and refocused. ‘Doing?’

‘The wager. I told you I wanted no part of it, yet you went ahead and put my name to it regardless.’

‘Ah, yes, that. Yes, I did set it up because several of the lads thought it would be a great lark. All of them are in the market for a new mistress and when Mortimer wagered a month at his father’s hunting lodge in Yorkshire that he would be the first to succeed, Cramby staked a thousand pounds against him, saying Mortimer had more money than sense.’

‘There’s a lot of that going around,’ Robert muttered. ‘But I won’t have it, Oberon. Take my name off the bet and out of the book. My reputation doesn’t need any further blackening by you.’

‘Can’t do it, old boy. We all put our hand to it, you see. I personally signed for you,’ Oberon confided. ‘And when you consider what the winner stands to gain, it really makes no sense to call it off. Now, about the French girl. Who is she and how does she come to be here tonight?’

Biting back a scathing retort, Robert said, ‘I know nothing more about her than I did at the inn. Except that her name is Miss Vallois and she is here with Lord and Lady Longworth.’

‘You mean she’s staying with them?’

‘Possibly.’

‘Interesting.’ Oberon’s eyes assumed a speculative gleam. ‘She must be well born to be moving in their circle. I wonder if the fair Lavinia has taken it upon herself to launch the girl into society.’

‘I have no idea.’

‘Then I’ll find out for myself. Introduce us.’

‘No.’

The blunt answer brought Oberon’s head around. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I said no. If the young lady is being presented to society, she is not some light-skirt for you to trifle with.’

‘My dear Robert, did it not occur to you I might have other things in mind for the delectable Miss Vallois?’

‘It did not.’ Robert smiled without warmth. ‘I know your reputation, Oberon, and a leopard doesn’t change his spots.’

The other man’s expression cooled. ‘Tread lightly, my friend. ‘Tis a fine line between familiarity and contempt, and many a friendship has been lost over a careless misstep. I ask only to be introduced to the young lady. What possible harm can come of that?’

They were coming. The man who didn’t like her—and the one who did in ways of which no mother would ever approve. Sophie took a deep breath and slowly opened her fan. What a pity Lavinia had chosen that very moment to go off and speak with friends.

‘Miss Vallois,’ Mr Silverton said, stopping in front of her. ‘Pray forgive the intrusion, but my friend has asked to be made known to you.’

Sophie glanced up into his handsome face, aware of the strength in those chiselled features, and saw again the cool disinterest she had come to associate with Robert Silverton. But she also saw something else. A reserve that seemed to echo her own uncertainty. ‘As you wish, Mr Silverton.’

‘Miss Sophie Vallois, may I present Mr Montague Oberon.’

‘Miss Vallois, what a pleasure this is,’ Mr Oberon said. ‘I did not think I would be fortunate enough to see you again.’

‘It is something of a surprise,’ Sophie acknowledged, not liking the way his eyes lingered on the low décolleté of her gown. She purposely raised her fan to block his view. ‘So you and Mr Silverton are friends as well as travelling companions.’

‘Oh, yes. Very good friends.’ Mr Oberon raised guileless blue eyes to hers. ‘As you saw that night at the inn, Silverton is everything a gentleman should be. Thoughtful, unselfish, steady as a rock. Sadly, all the things I am not.’

Startled by his candour, Sophie said, ‘Then what qualities do you possess?’

‘Wealth, humour and impeccable taste when it comes to female beauty … which is why you caught my eye the other evening. The gods themselves could not have sent a more divine creature to move amongst us. But I am well aware I owe you an apology. My behaviour was, to say the least, reprehensible. Due, no doubt, to the tedium of travel and the insufferable manners of that wretched innkeeper. Please say you will forgive me or I shall never rest easy again.’

The effusive apology surprised Sophie as much as amused her, and though she believed his words to be little more than pretty flattery, the fact he had offered an apology allowed her to look upon him with a touch more charity. ‘I accept your apology.’

‘I am relieved beyond words.’

‘Ah, good evening, Mr Oberon,’ Lavinia said, finally returning. ‘How nice to see you again.’

‘The pleasure must always be mine, Lady Longworth.’ Mr Oberon’s smile moved smoothly into place. ‘I vow you grow more lovely with every passing day.’

‘And I vow you grow more fulsome with your compliments. Have you met Miss Vallois?’

‘Indeed. Silverton was kind enough to introduce us. Am I to understand the lady will be spending the Season here in London with you?’

‘You are.’

‘Then perhaps I might call upon you in the near future to exchange pleasantries in a less crowded venue.’

Lavinia inclined her head. ‘You are, of course, welcome to call. But now I must steal Sophie away. Lord and Lady Beale are anxious to meet her. Sophie?’

Grateful for the opportunity to escape, Sophie dropped a quick curtsy. ‘Mr Oberon.’ Then, raising her chin, and goaded by some mischievous impulse she would no doubt regret later, she looked at the gentleman standing quietly beside him and said, ‘Please tell your sister that my brother and I look forward to joining you tomorrow afternoon, Mr Silverton. If the invitation is still open.’

His expression didn’t change, but Sophie heard the quiet edge of mockery in his voice. ‘It is, and I shall be pleased to tell her of your acceptance.’

Sophie smiled as she tucked her arm in Lavinia’s. ‘Good evening, gentlemen.’

‘Ladies.’ Oberon barely waited until they were out of hearing before exclaiming, ‘Until tomorrow? What was that all about?’

‘Jane has invited Miss Vallois and her brother to come driving with us,’ Robert said distantly.

‘And she agreed?’

‘Why would she not? By your own words, I am thoughtful, considerate and steady as a rock.’

‘I was only trying to flatter you.’

‘By making me sound like the trusted family dog?’

‘Nothing of the sort. I simply wanted her to know that you and I are very different.’

‘I believe she worked that one out on her own,’ Robert drawled, but Oberon wasn’t listening. He was following Sophie’s progress across the room like a hungry lion following a sprightly gazelle.

‘By God, she’s exquisite,’ he murmured. ‘Those eyes. That hair. And that complexion! As pink as rose petals and as smooth as alabaster. Imagine her lying naked in your bed, Silver. Imagine the softness of her skin as you run your hand slowly over her throat, and then lower.’ He briefly closed his eyes and made a sound deep in his throat. Seconds later, his eyes snapped open. ‘I must know who she is. Where does she come from, and why is she here?’

‘I have no idea,’ Robert said. ‘Is it not enough that she is a good friend of Lord and Lady Longworth’s?’

‘No. The French are as stuffy as the English when it comes to matters of class. And a well-brought-up French girl would have no need of a London Season.’

The same thought had occurred to Robert, but he had no intention of giving Oberon the satisfaction of agreeing with him. ‘If you don’t think she’s well born, why trouble yourself to make enquiries?’

‘Because I would hate to miss the opportunity of getting to know her if her birth is all it should be,’ Oberon said. ‘Look at her, man! When did you last see beauty like that? Observe the elegance of her carriage, the unconscious grace with which she carries herself. Who knows? She may well be the daughter of a French count.’

‘You could ask Lady Longworth.’

‘I could, but if the Longworths are using her extraordinary beauty as a means of capturing a wealthy husband, the truth may be revealed only after the vows are spoken. She may be an heiress—or an actress, which means I’m better off making my own enquiries.’

‘Which means what? You strap Miss Vallois to the rack and turn the screws until she tells you what you want to know?’

Oberon laughed. ‘Really, Silver, my methods are far more civilised. You see, in every person’s life, there are secrets. And there are always people who know those secrets. It is simply a matter of finding the right people and asking them the right questions.’

‘And if they suffer from the antiquated notion of loyalty or friendship?’

‘Then they must be encouraged to share what they know.’ Oberon smiled, but to Robert’s way of thinking, it was a singularly unpleasant thing. ‘Next to torture, I’ve always found money to be the most effective way of eliciting the truth.’

Oberon walked away and Robert made no attempt to stop him. The man was like a dog with a bone. Once he sank his teeth into something, he wouldn’t let go until there was nothing left to hold on to. Such was the case with Miss Vallois. Oberon had decided she was of interest to him and he would leave no stone unturned until he knew everything there was to know about her.

A daunting prospect for anyone, let alone a young woman newly arrived in London and looking to make a successful marriage. For her sake, Robert hoped there was nothing in her past that would preclude that from happening.

By the time the evening came to an end, Sophie was convinced the English were indefatigable. Though it was well past two in the morning, Lavinia and Nicholas were still chatting enthusiastically about the people to whom they had spoken, and about the delight those people had expressed at having been introduced to the charming brother and sister from France.

Sophie was pleased the evening had gone so well, but her feelings of excitement had long since given way to exhaustion. The noise of so many people, the sights and sounds of a grand ball, the necessity of constantly having to be on one’s guard to say the right thing, were tiring in the extreme, to say nothing of the difficulties involved in keeping everyone’s titles and positions straight. What a confusing jumble of lords and ladies the English aristocracy was!

Then there was the always-disturbing behaviour of one Mr Robert Silverton …

‘I think you’ll sleep well tonight,’ Lavinia said as they climbed the stairs to their rooms. ‘I’ll have Jeanette bring you a cup of chocolate in the morning.’

‘Thank you, Lavinia.’ Sophie was so weary she had to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. ‘If left alone, I fear I may sleep until noon.’

‘In that case, I shall have a breakfast tray sent up as well.’

Thankfully, Jeanette was waiting to help her undress and after the magnificent gown was removed and carefully hung in the closet, Sophie sat down at the dressing table and gazed longingly at the bed. ‘I don’t suppose I could go to bed without having my hair brushed?’

Jeanette pursed her lips. ‘Her ladyship wouldn’t like it, miss. She’s very particular about that sort of thing.’

‘Yes, I’m sure she is.’ Sophie sighed as she turned to face the glass. As the maid took the pins from her hair and it came tumbling down around her shoulders, Sophie closed her eyes and let her mind drift back over the events of the evening. Ironically, she found herself thinking about Robert Silverton. Why, she couldn’t imagine. The man had made no secret of the fact he didn’t like her, yet she was finding it exceedingly difficult to put him from her thoughts. She had followed his progress around the room, watching as he had stopped to speak with people he knew. The young ladies had been careful to keep their distance, but several of the older ones had smiled in a way that led Sophie to believe he was still very attractive to women open to une dalliance.

‘Sophie, are you awake?’ Lavinia called from the other side of the door.

‘Yes.’ Sophie opened her eyes, glad to have something to think about other than Robert Silverton. ‘Come in, Lavinia.’

Lavinia did, looking wonderfully exotic and far too wide awake in a dressing robe of deep crimson silk trimmed with layers of snowy white lace. Her long dark hair was caught in a loose knot at the nape of her neck and there was a definite twinkle in her eyes. ‘Thank you, Jeanette. That will be all.’

The maid put down the silver-handled brush, bobbed a curtsy and left. Lavinia waited for the door to close before settling herself on the edge of the bed and gazing at Sophie’s reflection in the glass. ‘I hope you don’t mind, but I couldn’t wait until breakfast to hear what you thought of your first ball. And to tell you how proud Nicholas and I were of you this evening. I’m sure we will see your name in the society pages tomorrow.’

Sophie turned on the upholstered seat and her mouth lifted in a smile. ‘I hope they neglect to mention that I addressed the Countess of Doncaster’s eldest daughter as Lady Doncaster.’

Lavinia dismissed it with a wave. ‘You apologised so sweetly even Lady Doncaster couldn’t take offence. But we could spend some time with Debrett’s tomorrow, if you like.’

‘Or we could just avoid attending any more grand balls. But I did enjoy myself this evening, Lavinia, and I think Antoine did too.’

‘Good, because I noticed several young ladies watching him,’ Lavinia commented. ‘Miss Margaret Quilling couldn’t take her eyes from him.’

‘Which one was she?’

‘The tall girl in white. Quite pretty, with blond hair dressed with feathers and pearls.’

Sophie nodded, remembering the ensemble rather than the lady. It had been of white tulle over satin with a rather unusual band of satin crescents forming a wide border around the bottom. The sleeves had been short and edged with a smaller band of crescents. ‘Yes, I remember. She complimented me on my gown and asked if I’d had it made in Paris.’

‘Really? I must pass that on to Madame Delors. She will be delighted to know that her gowns are being praised by such illustrious members of society.’ Lavinia got up and wandered across to the window. ‘Does the room please you, Sophie? I thought you might prefer one facing the square.’

‘The room is perfect,’ Sophie said, glancing around the spacious chamber. A huge four-poster bed was draped in lavender velvet, with the bedspread and pillows being of a lighter hue. A wardrobe stood against the opposite wall and a writing table was nestled under a window framed by delicate white curtains. ‘My mother would have loved it. Lavender was always her favourite colour.’

‘It must have been hard for you to leave her.’

‘I didn’t get the chance.’ Sophie’s eyes misted as they always did when she thought of the gentle woman who had raised her as best she could, despite the frequent bouts of debilitating illness. ‘She died four years ago.’

‘Oh, my dear, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.’