Sophie's Halloo (3 page)

Sophie listened with only half an ear, letting her mind roam as she usually did during such discussions.  Her thoughts over the past day and a half had tended to dwell on their host at the Black Swan. Her curiosity about him had only increased, and she wondered if she should see him again. But her mental wanderings were interrupted suddenly by the sound of a knock at the door, and presently the butler entered to announce a visitor. It was Sir Tony.

He strolled into the sitting room with that attractive ease Sophie had noted in him, tipping his beaver off and into his hand with one swift, graceful movement of head and wrist. Then resting with one hand on an elegant cane, he paused and scanned the room briefly before giving them all an engaging smile. Sophie’s eyes widened, and she smiled shyly as Lady Corby rose to her feet to greet him.

“Sir Tony,” she said in her gentle, welcoming way.  “How kind of you to call on us so soon. However did you find us?”

He answered her readily, “I took the liberty of making a few inquiries about the square, Lady Corby.  It was not really difficult. I hope I do not come before you are ready for visitors.”

“No, no,” she said. “Please do come in.”

Sir John by now had risen to his feet with less than his wife’s enthusiasm. “Farnham,” he said, nodding briskly. “Let me make you known to my sister, Mrs. Brewster.”

He started to extend his hand to Aunt Sadie, but she spoke quickly, “There is no need, John. I already know Sir Tony, though I did not know that you had made his acquaintance. What brings you here, you sly rascal?”

Lady Corby was rather startled by this familiar form of address, but Tony just grinned. “Why, I had hoped to find you here, Miss Sadie. I was fortunate enough to meet your brother and his family on the road, and I fancied I detected a resemblance.”

Sadie scoffed, and Lady Corby could only be glad that her sister-in-law was not near enough to give Sir Tony one of her cuffs on the chest. “That is just like your impudence! More like you came hoping to see my niece. You may wipe that silly grin off your face. You are not a villain in the hen house, you know.”

But Tony only grinned wider and turned to speak to Sophie, who was beginning to feel rather left out of his greeting. “I will confess,” he said. “I am delighted to see Miss Corby in such fine health. Good day to you, Miss Corby.”

Sophie was not used to gallantry, but she managed to smile without lowering her eyes. A dimple appeared briefly on one cheek, and Tony was gratified to find that she was interested enough by his coming to appear more alert than at their first meeting. He noticed, too, that the brighter light of day did nothing to diminish the tempting lure of Sophie’s dimples.

Lady Corby invited Tony to sit down, and he placed himself diplomatically near the elder ladies. Before long, Sir John had resumed his lament over the losses to his stable.

“I lost Dolly this year, Sadie,” he said. “I had meant to write you, but couldn’t bring myself to put it to paper. Knew you would be upset.”

“What happened?” his sister asked with evident dismay.

Sir John shook his head sadly. “Lost her flat out beneath me. It was a long run, near on two and three-quarter hours. Just too much for her finally, and near the beginning of the season—before she was in top form. If I had known we would have such a fine run that day, I would have taken one of the younger nags, but there was no way of knowing, of course,” he said sadly. 

“The scent stayed strong throughout, even though we crossed two fallow fields in the course of the run. I feared she was flagging near the end, but of course, I could not abandon the chase. She took her last ditch flying. A sad business. I changed quickly to another mount to finish the run, of course, and sent my man to fetch her as soon as I reached him. He tried everything he could to save her, but she never made it back to the stable.”

 “Tragic business!” said Sadie, a hint of hoarseness in her voice. “I remember riding her myself, many times. When you first acquired her. Remember that great run I had on her in ‘06? The one where Percival Blakehollow broke his leg?”

Sir John perked up instantly. He smiled ruminatively. “Aye,” he said. “That would have been the fifteenth November. I remember because I had the lead the following day and had to recount the whole to Percy who was laid up in bed. Dolly was a game one, wasn’t she? Hated to lose her. Miracle she lasted that long, though, when you come to think of it. She had her share of great runs.”

Sophie’s mind had wandered off again. She was disappointed that Sir Tony had placed himself so far from her chair and now feared that the conversation would never venture from the chase. He might not choose to call again, if he found them incapable of general discussion. She yawned openly, forgetting to cover her mouth, and her mother glanced at her with gentle reproach. But Sophie came to attention when she heard Tony speak. His expression throughout Sir John’s tale had been once again polite and attentive.

“Did you hunt then, Miss Sadie?” he asked with true admiration.

“Of course, boy,” answered Sadie, but she sighed. “T’was a bad fall that finished me.”

Sir John spoke proudly, “Sadie was a game girl, let me tell you. There never was a fence to stop her. My father said she was the best of us all, and all the Corbys hunt.”

“Do you hunt, Lady Corby?” asked Tony, turning to face his hostess.

Lady Corby appeared rather ashamed and said weakly, “No, Sir Tony. I am afraid not. But with all the children to look after...”

“Of course,” he hastened to reassure her. “I had not realized there were so many.”

“Eight,” said Sir John proudly, “and all the boys fine riders. Emma, too. All of them good Corbys, except Sophie here, who prefers to waste her time writing nonsense when she could be outdoors with the best of them.” He looked at his daughter reproachfully.

“Enough of that, Sir John!” exclaimed Sadie. “As I remember, Sophie is a fine rider, and if she does not choose to break her neck with the rest of you, well—” and here, though she obviously could not comprehend it, she spoke justly “—then that is her affair. What is this about writing?” she asked Sophie.

Her niece squirmed uncomfortably under their stares. “It is nothing,” she said dismissively. “I have just been attempting a bit of poetry.”

“Poetry!” scoffed Sir John. But Tony came to her rescue quickly.

“That is admirable. Miss Corby,” he said. “I am known to dabble in it myself, though my friends speak rather harshly of the result. They are so critical, in fact, that I may soon find myself reduced to the level of poet abstentious. I have decided to confine myself to birthday odes from now on.”

“And dashed impudent ones, I’ll warrant,” said Sadie with a laugh. “Hardly fit for royalty! I would be surprised to see a serious sonnet come out of that head of yours.”

Sir John did not appear to like the turn of the conversation. “Well, you fellows in Town get up to a deal of foolish nonsense, I know. But it beats me how Sophie can waste her time on poetry. It ought not to be in her blood. Clarissa comes from a long line of good hunting stock, and the children have all bred true but Sophie here.” He sighed.

Sounds like a litter of puppies, thought Sophie. She had hoped that Sir Tony’s comment would stop her father from expressing himself on her shortcomings in front of their guest, but, at least, now he seemed recalled to his manners enough to let the subject drop. 

While he reminisced further about his own father’s prowess in the field, her mind wandered again, and she gazed out the window. The city outside was alive with activity, and she chafed against the social restraints, which kept a maiden lady indoors. In the country, at least, she would have been free to go on a solitary walk, as was her habit. But here, despite the lure of strange delights in all she spied, she had to wait for a parent’s escort. Sophie had to envy her Aunt Sadie her widow’s freedom to drive herself about Town at will.

“I should like to learn to drive a phaeton about London,” she said aloud suddenly to no one in particular. The others suspended their conversation, and her mother released a gentle, “Oh, dear.”

“I’ll teach you!” volunteered Aunt Sadie, in tones of hearty approval. “Be delighted to! I knew you had pluck, gel. Don’t worry, Clarissa,” she said as Lady Corby started to protest. “I’ll not let any harm come to the gel. You know that.”

“Speaking of driving out,” said Tony, taking advantage of the opportunity. “I had rather hoped that Miss Corby would take a turn in the park with me today.”  Her sudden interjection had delighted him, coming as it did out of the blue, and he wondered what train of thought had brought her to that curious pronouncement. “That is, of course, if you have no objection,” he added, speaking to Lady Corby.

Sophie looked up with budding delight, but her mother seemed to have grave doubts. She turned to Sir John for guidance.

“I do not know, Sir Tony. Wouldn’t it seem rather particular? Sir John?”

But before Sophie’s father could refuse the plan, Aunt Sadie came once again to the rescue. “Nonsense! It’s a capital idea! And it will not seem in the least particular, I assure you, Clarissa. Everyone permits it nowadays. You would not have her set down as a country miss. Besides, she cannot be ravished in an open phaeton, after all—at least not in the park. Pay attention to his ribbons, Sophie. He can show you a thing or two. Capital whip!”

Lady Corby hastily gave her consent, hoping to cut off any more shocking statements from her sister-in-law, and Sophie ran upstairs to fetch her bonnet and pelisse and to submit to a quick hair brushing while Tony responded modestly to Sadie’s last remark.

“You flatter me, Miss Sadie.”

“Nonsense!” she said, raising her eyebrows in admonition. “You could be admitted to the Four-Horse Club at a moment’s notice, if you wished. Everyone says so. Why don’t you do it?”

Tony smiled mysteriously and shook his head as Sophie joined them once again. “Above my touch I’m afraid,” he said, holding Sophie’s pelisse for her. And he politely refused to be drawn back into the conversation, though Sadie continued to remonstrate with him. Taking up his beaver, he promised to have Sophie back in due time, and they made their way out of the room.

The door had scarcely closed behind them when Sir John let loose his indignation, “Frippery fellow, that! Poetry! I ask you, what does he mean by it?”

“Oh, don’t let him fool you, John,” said Sadie. “That boy can do anything. He just chooses to play the fool at times, though I don’t know why. He’s a spanking whip, and they tell me he’s a competent pugilist, too. He just don’t choose to brag about it, I suppose.”

“But he said himself he does not hunt!” complained Sir John. “Perhaps he cannot afford it. I don’t want him hanging out after Sophie if he does not have the blunt to support her.”

“It’s not that,” said Sadie, shaking her head in perplexity. “He is said to have a good £10,000 a year or more.”

“He could manage on that, though I suppose it might be a bit tight. There’s many a better does it on less,” he added stubbornly. 

“His father was quite a sporting gentleman,” remembered Sadie. “Addicted to the turf, as I remember. Nearly ruined his estate. Perhaps Tony don’t care to do the same.”

But Sir John would not allow it. “That’s ridiculous! He needn’t support his own stables, and you know it. He could always hire a hack. That’s coming it a bit strong, Sadie. I don’t see why you need defend the fellow. He’s little better than a coxcomb! Did you see that cane?”

Sadie knew her defense sounded weak to her sporting-enthusiast brother, but she stood her ground. “Perhaps there is no understanding it, John,” she sighed impatiently. “But you are wrong about Tony. Whatever his faults, I cannot help but like the man.”

CHAPTER THREE

The object of their discussion was at this moment turning his team of high spirited horses in the direction of Hyde Park with a skillful flick of his whip. He managed to keep up a spanking pace and still catch a glimpse of his companion out the corner of one eye.  Sophie was regarding the horses in front of her with fixed attention. Though it might not be thought particular in London for a single lady to ride out with a gentleman alone, she was thinking that it seemed very particular to her. She had never been alone with a strange gentleman before, if you could call sitting atop a high perch phaeton in the middle of a busy London street “being alone.”

Tony’s lips twitched understandingly as he watched her in silence, noting the softness of lowered lashes against her cheeks. But presently he ventured a question. “Are you paying careful attention to the ribbons, as your aunt suggested. Miss Corby? I shall be glad to give you instruction as we go along.”

Sophie blushed delightfully, but was glad for the excuse to talk. “Yes,” she said with little honesty. “I do not see how you manage to keep them so steady.”

“There is no trick to it,” said Tony. “You must simply keep the reins to your leaders separate from those to your wheelers so that you may direct them separately—just so.” He showed her which fingers to lace the reins through so as to hold them properly. Of course, this obliged Sophie to look up at him and to observe his actions minutely. She began to enjoy herself.

After watching him negotiate a narrow space between a milk cart and a bookseller’s stall, she remembered his final conversation with her Aunt Sadie and a suspicion that had then crossed her mind. So she asked, “Don’t you wish to be a member of the Four-Horse Club, Sir Tony?” Her own brothers had such strong aspirations to that honour that she was again mystified.

Tony looked more apologetic than ever as he answered, but she thought she detected a twinkle in his eyes. “I see you have discovered my secret. Miss Corby. But if you will promise not to reveal it to any of the club’s members, I shall be happy to explain.”

She nodded in agreement.

“You will think me a worthless fellow, I know,” he went on, “but the truth is that I do not want to be obliged to parade to Salt Hill on certain days of the month dressed in a curious habit. I should find the requirement rather tedious.”

Sophie dimpled by way of reply, but did not tell him that he had delighted her again. Instead, folding her hands in her lap, she looked about her with a sigh of satisfaction, as Tony grinned appreciatively.