Читать книгу The Husband Season - Mary Nichols, Mary Nichols - Страница 9
ОглавлениеSophie decided she needed some ribbon for the evening gown she intended to wear for Mark’s concert. It was a rose-pink gauze worn over a white silk underdress. In her view it was too plain and needed a long ribbon tied in floating ends beneath the bust and to embellish the puffed sleeves. She had suggested as much to Jane when she was altering it, but her sister had said it was fine as it was. On the other hand, she really could not allow herself to be outshone by Cassandra. ‘You never know whom I shall meet,’ she said to Bessie. ‘Mark might contrive to introduce me to eligibles of his acquaintance. I wonder if his cousin will be there. He is staying at Wyndham House, you know.’
‘No, I did not know. Do you know the gentleman?’
‘I don’t know. I might have met him at my sisters’ wedding.’
‘He cannot have made much of an impression if you cannot remember him.’
‘I might if I knew his name, but Mark did not mention it when he told us a cousin was staying with him. I wonder if he is like Mark?’
‘So you are adding frippery to impress someone you do not know.’
‘Certainly not. I simply want to look my best. Wyndham House is quite grand, you know, and no doubt Mark’s friends are top of the trees. I know Cassandra will be showing herself off. I cannot be seen to lag behind.’
‘Has Lady Cartrose ordered the carriage this morning?’
‘Yes, but not for me. She is going to fulfil a long-standing engagement with some old friends and I am not required to go with her. Goodness knows where Teddy is. You will come with me, won’t you? We can walk.’
‘Yes, of course I will come.’
As soon as Lady Cartrose had left, Sophie and Bessie set out on foot for Bond Street. It was no longer so cold, but it had rained again and the streets were wet and muddy, and they were obliged to lift their skirts a little and watch carefully where they were putting their feet. Bessie would rather have postponed the outing, but Sophie would not hear of it. ‘Don’t be so poor-spirited, Bessie,’ she said. ‘It is not so bad.’
They were walking down the busy shopping street when a high-perch phaeton sped past them, spraying Sophie, who was walking a little ahead of Bessie, with filthy water. ‘Of all the inconsiderate muckworms,’ she said, staring after it, fury on every line of her face. ‘Now look at my gown. I shall have to go back and change.’ She was turning to go back the way they had come when she realised the vehicle had stopped and its driver was descending with the intention of coming back to them.
Bessie pulled on her arm. ‘Do not speak to him, I beg of you.’
‘Why not? I mean to tell him just what I think of him.’
It was only when he turned towards her and she could see his face that she recognised Sir Reginald Swayle, one of her erstwhile suitors. ‘Oh, lord, it’s that dandy, Reggie,’ she murmured.
He wore a double-breasted long-tailed coat in dark blue superfine, a flamboyantly tied cravat, yellow pantaloon trousers and a tall hat with a narrow brim, which he doffed on approaching her. ‘A thousand pardons, Miss Cavenhurst. If I had known it was you, I would have stopped and taken you up.’
‘Meaning, I suppose, that if it had been anyone else you would not have stopped at all,’ she said. ‘Very chivalrous of you, I am sure. It is too bad of you, sir. Driving like a lunatic down these busy streets is the height of folly and inconsiderate of pedestrians.’
‘I was not driving like a lunatic. And ladies should know better than to walk down streets wet after rain.’
‘Oh, so it is my fault my dress is ruined and instead of going shopping, I am now obliged to return to my aunt’s to change.’
‘No, I am not blaming you and I have said I am sorry. Allow me take you back to change your dress and then I will take you to buy a new one.’
‘That will not be necessary.’
‘Oh, but it is. Come, let me help you into my carriage.’
‘There is no room for my maid.’
‘She can walk.’
‘Don’t go, Miss Sophie, I beg of you,’ Bessie said. ‘If we walk quickly, we shall be back in Mount Street in no time.’
‘I don’t care to walk through the streets looking like a dish mop,’ Sophie told her. ‘It is not as if Reggie is a stranger.’
‘No, indeed,’ he said, offering her his arm to escort her to the carriage.
She took it, while addressing Bessie over her shoulder. ‘I will see you back at Cartrose House.’
He helped her up into the extraordinary vehicle, climbed up himself and picked up the reins. ‘I shall have to go a little farther along the road before I can turn round,’ he said. ‘But it should not cause more than a few minutes’ delay.’
She was sitting almost at first-floor level and had to admit, if only to herself, that it was exciting to be so high, looking down on lesser mortals. ‘When did you acquire this monstrous vehicle?’ she asked.
‘It is not monstrous. It is all the rage and it is fast.’
‘So I observed. Too fast for city streets.’
‘It cuts quite a dash in the park. I was on my way there. Should you like to try it? I cannot conveniently turn round before we reach Piccadilly and we would be almost at the park before we could turn up Park Lane. I collect your maid mentioned Mount Street.’
Unfamiliar with the side streets of the city, she accepted this explanation. ‘I do not think that would be altogether proper,’ she said. ‘And my dress is all muddy.’
‘No one can see it,’ he said, turning to look at her. ‘The top half is not affected. You look very fetching.’
‘Is this a ploy to make me change my mind about turning down your proposal?’
‘Would it succeed?’
‘No. What are you doing in London? Did you hear that I was here?’
‘The doings of the Cavenhursts in Hadlea are an open book, my dear, but I cannot say it was my whole reason for coming. If I cannot have you, then I must settle for second best.’
‘Then I pity her. To be second best must be altogether too humiliating. If I were her, I would never agree to it.’
‘Oh, she would never know.’
‘Do you not think she might guess? I am sure I should.’
‘Perhaps it will not become necessary.’
‘No, you might fall genuinely in love.’
He laughed and manoeuvred the carriage through the park gates. ‘It is as easy to drive along here as it is up Park Lane,’ he said. ‘We can drive out through the Grosvenor Gate.’
She was becoming slightly alarmed that he might be trying to abduct her, but shook the idea from her thoughts. He was unlikely to do anything so outrageous in Hyde Park, where there were hundreds of people to whom she could appeal. The hundreds of people were the bigger problem. Her aunt had introduced her to so many friends and acquaintances on their carriage ride, she could not remember half of them. Supposing they saw her and recognised her? Sitting so high above everyone else, she could not fail to be seen. She had no chaperone and did not even have the protection of a parasol, for there had been no sun when they set out and she had not needed one. The only thing she could do was brave it out.
‘This is the most extraordinary vehicle,’ she said, turning towards him so that her face was turned from the occupants of a carriage then passing them. ‘I am not sure I feel altogether safe.’
‘Oh, it is safe enough in expert hands,’ he said. ‘Though if a greenhorn were to attempt to drive it, he might come to grief.’
‘And you, I collect, are an expert.’
‘Yes. Shall I show you?’ Instead of turning north to the next gate out into Park Lane, he turned down Rotten Row and set the horse to a trot, exposing them to yet more stares.
‘Reggie, I beg of you, don’t,’ she said, hanging on to the side of the carriage. ‘Please turn back and take me home.’
‘You are not afraid I shall overturn you, are you? I never knew you to be so chicken-livered. Come, Sophie, where is your spirit of adventure?’
‘It is not my spirit that is lacking,’ she said. ‘I am concerned that we are attracting attention.’
‘Admiring glances, what is wrong with that?’
‘You know perfectly well what is wrong with that, Reggie. You will quite ruin my reputation if you do not slow down to a sedate walk and turn round. Even then I fear it will not do.’
‘There is no room to turn round until we reach the end.’ Nevertheless he did slow the horses, though this had the effect of taking them longer to reach a turning point and longer for them to be seen and either admired or criticised. If she could have sank down on to the floor, she would have done. All she could do was pray no one would recognise her. In that she was to be disappointed and by the person she least hoped to see.
He was riding towards them on his bay and on coming level lifted his hat and bowed. He did not speak, but the amusement was evident in his brown eyes. She endeavoured to ignore him.
‘Who was that?’ Reggie asked as they passed him.
‘I have no idea, but it seems every time I go out, I encounter him. He is the most odious man.’
‘Top of the trees,’ he said. ‘I wonder how many cravats he ruined getting that one tied like that.’
‘I do not know and care even less.’
‘Tell me,’ he said changing the subject abruptly, ‘are you enjoying your Season? That is why you are in London, is it not?’
‘Yes, and I am enjoying it excessively.’
‘Ah, then, no doubt you have dozens of hopeful swains vying for your hand.’
‘Dozens,’ she agreed in the hope it might put him off.
He sighed as they reached a spot where he could turn round without colliding with other carriages. ‘So you like being admired and setting off one suitor against another. It is cruel of you, Sophie.’
‘I do not do it on purpose, Reggie.’
‘My trouble,’ he said regretfully, ‘is that you know me too well. I do not represent the excitement of conquest.’
‘Riding in this contraption is excitement enough, Reggie.’
They rode on in silence until they were once again in Park Lane and turning down Mount Street. She was never more thankful to reach the door of Cartrose House. He jumped down to help her out and it was then Teddy came out of the house.
‘There you are, Sophie. I was just coming to look for you. Bessie was in such a taking, nothing would satisfy her but I come out and search for you.’ He noticed Reggie and then the high-perch phaeton. ‘Hallo, Reggie. So this is the vehicle Bessie was so upset about. What is it like to drive?’
‘Easy enough when you know how,’ Reggie answered him. ‘You have to be careful not to take too tight a turn, but it can really go with the right cattle.’
Sophie left them talking and went indoors, where Bessie greeted her in floods of tears. ‘Where have you been, Miss Sophie? It don’t take but a few minutes to get from Bond Street to here in a carriage and you’ve been gone over an hour.’
‘Is it that long? Dear me, I had no idea. The high-perch phaeton needs a very wide turning circle, or so I was persuaded, and we had to drive down to Piccadilly and then to Hyde Park corner. And then Reggie decided to drive in the park.’ She was mounting the stairs as she spoke, followed by her worried maid.
‘Oh, Miss Sophie, how could you be so wanting in conduct as to allow that? Whatever would your mama and papa say?’
‘They will never know of it, Bessie. Now I must change. I fear it is too late to go looking for ribbons today. I shall have to go tomorrow.’
‘With Lady Cartrose, I hope, for I declare I could not endure another outing like today’s.’ She busied herself pouring water into the bowl on the nightstand for Sophie to wash her hands and face.
Sophie stripped off her muddy dress and went over to the nightstand. ‘Bessie, I have mud on my face!’ she exclaimed as she glanced in the mirror that hung above it. ‘How mortifying.’ Her thoughts went immediately to the strange, yet familiar, rider who’d had amusement written all over his face as he’d bowed to her.
‘Yes, but you would go off with Sir Reginald and did not give me time to point it out to you.’
Sophie dipped a cloth in the water and scrubbed at her cheek while Bessie rooted in the cupboard for a dress for Sophie to wear. ‘What about this green muslin?’
‘Yes, that will do. And, Bessie, you will not say anything to Lady Cartrose about this morning, will you?’
‘You may rely on me, Miss Sophie, but what if you were seen by some of her ladyship’s friends? It would not do for her to hear of it from one of those, for they will put the worst complexion on it.’
‘You think I should tell her?’
‘It would be best, then she will be forewarned and have her answer ready.’
‘Is she home?’
‘Not yet, for which I am thankful, for if she had been here while you were out, I do not know what I would have said to her. She would most likely have turned me off for allowing it.’
‘She can’t turn you off, Bessie. She does not employ you—my father does. And in any case, no blame can be attached to you for anything.’
‘I am glad you think so.’
* * *
Once more respectably dressed, Sophie went down to the drawing room to await the return of her aunt. Teddy was waiting for her, his long legs straddling the arm of the chair in which he sat. He righted himself on her entrance. ‘Racketing about on your own is not the thing, Sophie, not the thing at all. And as for accepting rides in high-perch phaetons, that is beyond anything. What can you have been thinking of?’
‘I only wanted to get home quickly to change my dress. It was either ride with Reggie or walk through the streets in a soaking wet dress that was clinging to my legs. It would have been too mortifying.’
‘That won’t fudge, Sophie. If you had had any sense, you would have gone into the nearest dress shop and bought a dress to come home in.’
‘I didn’t think of that and if I had I couldn’t have done it, I did not have enough money on me.’
‘You could have put it on account.’
‘Whose account? Yours? Aunt Emmeline’s? Mark’s?’
‘It would have done no good naming me, but Aunt Emmeline would have stood buff and certainly Mark would.’ He sighed. ‘It is too late now. The damage is done. Reggie wanted to buy you a new dress, but I dissuaded him. It would not do, you know, unless you were affianced to him.’
‘I am not completely devoid of sense, Teddy, and I am not affianced to him and never will be. You may rest assured I would certainly not accept a gift from him. And if no one saw me in the phaeton, then there is no damage done, is there?’ As she spoke the image of a smiling stranger with warm brown eyes flashed into her mind.
‘Let us hope you are right. I have Reggie’s word he will not speak of it. When Papa gave you into my care, I had no idea what an onerous task it would be. I beg you, Sophie, try not to get into any more scrapes.’
* * *
It was after dinner when Sophie and Lady Cartrose retired to the drawing room for tea that Sophie began diffidently to tell her aunt of the morning’s episode. It was a tortuous business, her aunt being so deaf she had to shout what she would rather have whispered in shame, but she got through it at last and waited for her aunt’s reaction.
‘To be sure I have seen those high-perch phaetons about,’ she said. ‘They look extremely dangerous to me. It is a wonder you were not upset and killed.’
Sophie had been expecting to have a peel rung over her. This calm acceptance that all that mattered was that she was not hurt took her by surprise. ‘You are not angry with me?’
‘No, child. I did far worse things when I was your age and it never did me any harm, but it is to be hoped the young gentleman will not boast of it.’
‘He has promised Teddy he would not. Teddy trusts him. They have been friends since their schooldays. That’s how I met him.’
‘Then, there is no more to be said. Thankfully I have no more engagements to take me out without you, so I will be able to accompany you in future. Tomorrow we will take one or two afternoon calls and we will shop and buy that ribbon you are so set on. We can play a hand or two of whist in the evening. Mr and Mrs Frederick Malthouse usually come to me on a Thursday evening and Margaret makes up a four, but she will forgo it so that you may take her place.’
‘But, Aunt, I do not excel at cards,’ Sophie protested. ‘In fact, I am the world’s worst at whist. Teddy is the card player in our family.’
Teddy joined them at this point and heard Sophie’s last remark. ‘Not me,’ he said. ‘I have forsworn gambling, as Sophie well knows.’
‘I am glad to hear it,’ Emmeline said, giving him a beaming smile. ‘But a little game among family and friends is perfectly in order. You may join us if Sophie does not care for it.’
He had a cup of tea with them and, hating the idea of spending the whole evening indoors with them struggling to converse, he made his excuses and took his leave. If Sophie wondered where he was off to, she dismissed it as none of her business, and she really had no right to haul him over the coals when her behaviour had hardly been exemplary.
* * *
‘Mark, you have been closeted in this room long enough,’ Adam said. ‘Leave all that paper and come out and have dinner with me at White’s.’
‘It is this concert,’ Mark said. ‘You have no idea how much preparation is involved. Musicians, singers, all of them temperamental in their demands, have to be appeased, the programme decided on and the order of all the items arranged so as not to offend any of them. Refreshments and the moving of the furniture must be organised, besides deciding how the donations are to be accepted, on a tray, in a bag, during the interval or at the end. That is, if I have any. If I don’t, it will all have been a dreadful waste of time and effort, not to say money, and Jane will be very disappointed.’
‘Don’t you have a secretary to do that sort of thing?’
‘I left him behind at Broadacres. I thought he would be more useful there.’
‘There is still a week to go, Mark. You can afford to take one evening off, surely? Who was it said to me, not two days ago, that all work and no play is not good for a man?’
Mark laughed and stood up. ‘You are right. Let us go out.’
They could have used Mark’s town carriage or hired chairs but decided to walk. The rain had gone, the night was fine and balmy and Mark said he needed some fresh air. ‘How have you been amusing yourself?’ he asked as they walked.
‘I would hardly call it amusement. I have been endeavouring to track down Henry Hunt to find out his intentions but no one will tell me where to find him. I think he is avoiding me.’
‘I am not surprised. You represent the enemy, the hated oppressors of the poor.’
‘But I do not.’
‘They don’t know that, do they? I am sure if you were to infiltrate his meetings you would be looked on as an agent provocateur and quickly bundled out of it.’
‘You are probably right. I shall have to rely on my speech. Perhaps after that, they will see I am on their side.’
‘How is the speech coming along?’
‘Slowly. I begin to wonder if I did right to come to London and might have fared better staying in Saddleworth.’
‘Well, you are here now, so you might as well enjoy your free time.’
Adam laughed. ‘And the same goes for you, cousin.’
‘Touché.’
They turned into the club and were soon seated in the dining room, giving an order for onion soup, turbot, roast partridges, raised mutton pie, broiled mushrooms and a selection of vegetables. They followed this with sweet pastries, clotted cream and a jelly. Once replete, they adjourned to the card room for a few hands of whist.
They played well together, not too deep but enough to satisfy the two gentlemen who made up the four, one of whom was Sir Reginald Swayle, known to Mark, and the other Captain Mountworthy, of the Hussars, on leave and looking for a little diversion. The captain, not being as well up in the stirrups as the other three, broke the party up a little after midnight, having come to the end of the stake he’d allowed himself. Adam and Mark both said they fancied an early night and rose to go.
They were about to pass two gentlemen who had just arrived when Adam heard his cousin address one of them. ‘Teddy, you here?’
‘Yes, you cannot expect me to sit listening all evening to Sophie trying to hold a conversation with Aunt Emmeline. I should die of boredom or laugh aloud and disgrace myself.’
Mark turned to Adam. ‘Adam, may I introduce my wife’s brother, Mr Edward Cavenhurst. Teddy, my cousin, Adam Trent, Viscount Kimberley.’
The two men shook hands, murmured, ‘How do you do?’ then Teddy, indicating his companion, said, ‘Do you know Captain Toby Moore?’
‘I do.’ Mark’s voice was clipped and made Adam turn to him in surprise. There was obviously no love lost between the two men. He shrugged his shoulders and followed his cousin, leaving Teddy and Captain Moore to make their way into the club. They heard Teddy greeting Sir Reginald with great affability as they made their way out of the building.
‘A young dandy,’ Adam said as they walked on. ‘You seemed not pleased to see him.’
‘Oh, I like him well enough, but he is too fond of the gaming tables. He is in town to escort his sister, not to indulge his weakness.’
‘His sister being the young lady you have recently left in the care of her aunt?’
‘Yes.’
‘I would have expected her parents to bring her to town.’
‘Lady Cavenhurst is a very poor traveller and Sir Edward much wrapped up in his estate, which is only now recovering from a near disaster two years ago—a disaster I might add, partially brought about by that rake shame, Captain Moore. I wonder at Teddy associating with him. I fear I shall have to keep an eye on him while I am here, though what I can do to stop him, I have no idea. Besides, I shall have to go home to Hadlea after the concert.’
‘You are not his keeper, Mark, and he is surely of an age to know what he is about.’
‘Gambling is an addiction with him, Adam. He has the best of intentions, but they fly away at the least temptation. I wish he had not come to town, but he was the only person who could escort Sophie, and Sophie was determined.’ He grinned ruefully. ‘When Sophie is determined, there is no gainsaying her. Being the youngest she has always been indulged, not only by her parents but by her brother and older sisters.’
‘She sounds like a spoiled filly to me.’
‘No, you mistake me. She is a charming young lady, if a little headstrong, which don’t signify to the young blades who crowd round her at Hadlea. Whether she will enjoy the same adoration in town, I cannot say. She will be at the concert, so you may be able to judge then.’
‘I shall look forward to being introduced to her and making up my own mind,’ Adam said.
* * *
He was busy in the meantime lobbying for support for the mill workers and the repeal of the Corn Laws, but found very few takers, certainly not among his peers. What he needed was support in the Commons, but even there, the rules for standing for that institution were such that very few of them could claim working-class roots. If only he could prevail upon the likes of Orator Hunt to compromise on their demands, he might have some success, but Hunt seemed to have gone to ground. He had asked Alfred Farley if he could winkle out his whereabouts.
Alfred might be a valet who looked after his clothes and brought him his shaving things of a morning, but he was more than that. He had been serving him since he had found him in a back alley in Seven Dials, half-starved and begging, four years before. Something about the man had made him take pity on him and he had learned he had once been a soldier and had served under Adam’s brother, but he had been discharged when he’d taken a piece of shrapnel from a cannonball in his leg. It had healed, but his leg was scarred and he walked with a limp. He was not an ideal valet, but he was a faithful servant and could be relied on in a crisis.
* * *
Adam had had to put all that aside in order to attend Mark’s concert. He could hardly fail to do so considering the house was in an uproar of preparation and Mark distracted. The house was large, airy and well furnished, if a little old-fashioned, not that such a thing would have put off his guests; the Wyndhams were known and respected in town as well as at Hadlea, and he did not for a moment share Mark’s doubts that no one would turn up. All was ready on the night, and after a light repast with Mark at six o’clock, he went up to his room to change.
He had long given up the exaggerated dress he had adopted in his youth and now favoured simplicity, but it was an elegant simplicity that set off his splendid physique and spoke volumes for his tailor, not to mention Farley, who had learned to make sure his cravats were starched to exactly the right stiffness, enough to maintain their folds, but not enough to cause him discomfort. Tonight he favoured a dark blue tailcoat in superfine that he had been assured was called midnight blue, matching pantaloons and a white brocade waistcoat with silver buttons. Never one to be fussy about his hair, which had a natural curl, he succumbed to Farley brushing it and combing into some semblance of style.
He could hear people arriving as he left his room to go down to the first floor, where he found his cousin standing sentinel at the ballroom door that had been furnished with a small stage and rows of chairs.
‘How goes it?’ Adam asked, standing beside him.
‘Well, I think. The chairs are filling up.’
‘So I should hope, considering you have the cream of the musical world to entertain everyone.’
They heard voices down in the hall as more guests arrived, and in a few moments, a party came up, led by a matronly woman in a hideous purple gown and a turban with a long feather, escorted by young Cavenhurst, but he hardly had eyes for them because they were accompanied by a young lady who caused him to catch his breath.
‘Lady Cartrose, how do you do,’ Mark said, while Adam endeavoured not to allow his twitching lips to become a broad grin. ‘May I present my cousin, Lord Kimberley.’
Pulling himself together, Adam bowed. ‘Your servant, my lady.’
‘And this is my sister-in-law, Miss Sophie Cavenhurst,’ Mark went on, unaware of the unspoken message going from Sophie to Adam, though that gentleman was fully cognisant of the appeal in her blue eyes.
‘Miss Cavenhurst, your obedient servant,’ he said, bowing.
There were more people coming up the stairs, and Mark was obliged to turn to greet them. ‘Adam, will you take Lady Cartrose and Miss Cavenhurst to find good seats before they are all taken up? I will join you later.’
‘With the greatest of pleasure,’ he said, offering them an arm each and smiling to himself when Sophie hesitated before taking it.
They found four seats in the middle of the room, and he found himself seated between Sophie and her aunt. He had a little time to study her while she perused the programme she had found on her chair. She was lovely, there was no doubting that, with her fresh complexion, fair curls and expressive blue eyes, which he could not see because she was determined not to look in his direction. He could hardly believe she was the same girl he had rescued from the soldiers, nor the one he had seen flaunting herself in that high-perch phaeton with that coxcomb, Sir Reginald Swayle. He hadn’t known his name at the time, only having been introduced to him at White’s.
‘Are you enjoying your stay in London?’ he asked her.
‘So far,’ she said, without looking at him.
‘Only so far?’
‘Well, one never knows what is around the corner, does one?’
‘No, nor whom one might meet,’ he added.
‘Very true, and sometimes they are not the people one would wish to meet.’
‘I am sorry if that has happened to you,’ he said, assuming she meant him. ‘But sometimes we find ourselves in situations where it cannot be avoided.’
‘Quite.’
There was a long silence after this. She was evidently not in the mood to explain herself and as the seats were filling up and the musicians tuning their instruments ready to begin, he gave up trying. Instead, he turned to Lady Cartrose, but as she could not hear what he was saying above the noise of the orchestra and people talking round them, he gave that up, too.
Mark came in to introduce the quartet that was going to provide the opening music and everyone ceased chatting and turned towards the front.
The seats were so close together, Adam was very aware of the girl beside him; he had only to lean a little sideways and their arms and heads would touch. She appeared engrossed in the music, but there was a tension in the air around her that told him she was not unmindful of his proximity. What was she thinking? Was she wishing him anywhere but where he was? He ought to reassure her he would not speak of the episode with the soldiers, or her indiscretion in riding in the phaeton; it would not be the action of a gentleman. But perhaps it would be better to remain silent.
* * *
Refreshments were served during the intermission and Adam had perforce to escort his uncommunicative ladies to the dining room, where they were joined by Mr and Mrs Malthouse and Cassandra, and Lord and Lady Martindale with Lucinda.
It was immediately apparent that Miss Sophie Cavenhurst was not normally taciturn, because she entered into a lively exchange with Cassandra and Lucinda about the merits of the music and the audience and their dress.
‘Your gown is exquisite,’ Cassandra said to Sophie. ‘Where did you find that lovely fabric? That green reminds me of sage shot through with silver.’
‘My sister found it for me. It might have come from India. Both my brother and brother-in-law spent some time out there. They may have brought it back.’
‘And the style is so elegant. Don’t you think so, my lord?’
Thus appealed to, Adam turned towards Sophie as if to study her sage-green gown, although he had already decided he had rarely seen anything so becoming. It was exquisitely made and fitted the young lady’s figure beautifully. ‘Most certainly,’ he said. ‘But your own gown, Miss Malthouse, is a match for it. It suits its wearer to perfection.’
Cassandra blushed crimson. ‘You are too kind, my lord.’
‘You must not leave Miss Martindale out of your praises,’ Sophie said, smiling at her old friend. ‘I think that pale pink is just right for her colouring.’
‘I had no intention of leaving the young lady out,’ he said. ‘You are all three beauties of the first order. I am at a loss to choose between you and you must therefore excuse me.’ He bowed to each in turn and made his escape.
He joined Mark, who was standing a little to one side, making sure everyone was being looked after, ready to send for more dishes of food as those on the table emptied.
‘You haven’t lost your touch, I see,’ Mark said, looking towards the trio. ‘Three young ladies hanging on your every word. I fancy there will be three handkerchiefs thrown down ere long.’
‘I shall not stoop to pick them up, Mark. I collect I told you, I have no intention of marrying again.’
* * *
‘I wonder how long he will be in town,’ Cassandra mused. ‘Do you think he will come to my ball if I invite him?’
‘Oh, so you are going to set your cap at him, are you?’ Sophie said.
‘Why not? He is not unhandsome and he has a title.’
‘And wealth,’ Lucinda put in.
‘How do you know that?’ Sophie demanded.
‘I asked Papa and he said he has a vast estate in Yorkshire and owns a woollen mill, as well.’
‘Yorkshire. I am sure I should never want to live there,’ Sophie said.
‘No doubt he would bring his wife to town as often as she wanted to come,’ Lucinda said.
‘You, too, Lucy?’ Sophie queried.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Both of you bowled over by a handsome face and a few compliments.’
‘Oh, so you are not, I suppose,’ Cassandra said.
‘Of course not. Anyone can learn to pay compliments. Besides he is too old and a widower and I will not play second fiddle to a dead wife.’
‘I didn’t know that,’ Lucinda said.
‘What does it matter?’ Cassandra was not to be put off. ‘She can’t hurt anyone, can she? I am going to ask Mama to invite him to my come-out ball. He will be duty bound to stand up with me.’
‘Then, I wish you joy of him,’ Sophie said.
She knew she was being silly, but Viscount Kimberley disturbed her more than she was willing to admit. Her embarrassment at finding the man who had rescued her from the soldiers was her brother-in-law’s cousin was profound. She could not treat him like a stranger, could not dismiss the whole incident with a shrug of her shoulders, especially as he had afterwards seen her with Reggie in his phaeton. How much of that would he tell Mark? Mark might tell Jane and she would be fetched home in disgrace. If only tonight had been their first meeting, then she might have felt the same way as her two friends. She envied them. He was not laughing at them.
