Sophie's Halloo (7 page)

Lady Corby rushed in to make up for her husband’s lack of courtesy. “Won’t you sit down, Sir Tony,” she said. “I apologize for your finding us in this dismal state, but, you see, we had quite hoped that Sophia would be admitted. It is rather disappointing.”

Tony’s expression, which had held a grin at Sir John’s last remark, softened at his hostess’s gentle voice. “Please do not think of it, Lady Corby. I am as disappointed for you as I am for myself, for I had hoped for a chance to stand up with Miss Corby at the assemblies.” He turned to Sophie with a questioning smile.  “Did you truly wish to be admitted, Miss Corby?”

Sophie was surprised at the degree of understanding in his eyes. It was as if he were privy to all her fears and doubts, and she remembered his own confession about not wanting to belong to the Four-Horse Club.

But his previous remark, about having wanted to dance with her, awoke in her a strong feeling of regret. If Tony had the habit of going to the assemblies, then she need not have feared attending them. Just knowing there was someone in the ballroom who seemed to have her welfare in mind, someone, moreover, who was at home in any situation, would have been enough to ensure her enjoyment. Right now he was taking her outstretched hand in greeting.

“Yes,” said Sophie, in belated answer to his question. “I should have liked to be admitted.”

Tony’s smile held a special significance. Speaking in a lowered voice, as if for her benefit alone, he said, “Then we shall see what can be done about it.” And he winked at her before releasing her hand and turning to speak to Lady Corby.

The two ladies and Tony conversed pleasantly for a while despite Sir John’s retreat behind his newspaper, but before long, Tony judged the time was right to withdraw. He had just begun to rise to his feet to take leave of them when Sir John leapt to his with a startled oath.

“Good Gad!” he cried as their eyes turned to him. “This is intolerable!” His face was alarmingly red; his eyes were bulging.

“What is the matter, Sir John?” asked Lady Corby, with less concern than might have been expected under the circumstances. Her relative calm was enough to assure Tony that she must be used to such outbursts.

“This article!” he answered, slapping the paper with a gesture that even Tony, in their limited acquaintance, was coming to know. “I never thought I would live to see the day that such a shocking practice would be discussed in my newspaper. Why the very thought of it makes me shudder, and yet here is this fool discussing it as if the matter were open to question!”

“What matter, dear?” asked Lady Corby patiently.

Sir John could barely bring himself to articulate it.  He was visibly shaken. “It is the practice of using live bait for fishing,” he said with disgust. “This—this fool,” he said, striking the paper again, “has the nerve to write about it and ask whether it might not be a more successful method. Successful! Why, aside from the obvious horror, the simple poor sportsmanship of it is astounding!”

Familiar as she was with her father’s thoughts on this issue, Sophie herself had very little opinion on the matter. It had always puzzled her that Sir John should draw a distinction between dangling a live animal of the lowest order before a fish and allowing the hounds to tear a fox to shreds. But now she had to suppress a giggle when she saw the amusement in the glance Tony threw her. And her gravity was maintained with even greater difficulty when Tony bounded to his feet.

“Shocking, indeed, Sir John!” he agreed emphatically. “I am surprised to see such unethical reporting in a respected newspaper. You will no doubt wish to send a stinging admonishment to the editor.”

“That I will, by Gad!” said Sir John, no less outraged, but happy to have a vent for his displeasure. “I shall inform him that I do not intend to continue reading a sheet which gives space to such infamous drivel.”

“That ought certainly to give them pause,” agreed Tony. “I would be honoured to add my name to your letter. But now,” said he, turning to the ladies with a calmer tone of voice, “I must take my leave of you.  There is a matter of business I must attend to.” He smiled at them both, but Sophie fancied his eyes lingered on her as he made his farewell. Sir John bade him goodbye absently. He was already composing his letter to the editor.

There were no other happenings of note that day or the next. But on the third day after Tony’s call. Lady Corby received another note from Lady Jersey. This time it was to the effect that Sophie’s name had been raised once again before the patronesses at Almack’s and no objections had been forthcoming. The letter was accompanied by applications for vouchers.

Sir John and Lady Corby were agreed that the previous letter had simply been a mistake and that Sir John’s acquaintance with Lord Jersey had finally been enough to sway the ruling ladies. Sir John forgot his grievance against Whigs enough to declare Lady Jersey a valuable ally. But Sophie suspected that Tony might have had something to do with her acceptance, for she had neither forgotten his smile nor his wink.  The wink, in fact, came often to mind, and she found it just as attractive as the first.

The next Wednesday night then, Sophie made her appearance at the assembly rooms at Almack’s clad in a becoming off-white high-waisted muslin gown. The peachy colour of her cheeks was complemented by the saffron-coloured ribbons in her brown hair, and her large eyes shone with excitement. Searching the room for faces she knew, she was dazzled by the glow of the candles and the magnificence of the array of dancers.  Lady Jersey greeted them grandly, and they were able to give her their thanks for her efforts on Sophie’s behalf.

Before long, Sophie’s hand was claimed for a dance, and she was out on the ballroom floor. Although her partner was unknown to her, she still enjoyed the experience of dancing, for in truth, Sophie was not shy. She had simply never been in a large company where her interest did not quickly fade, but the novelty of her surroundings was enough tonight to keep her eyes dancing brightly.

The set came to a close, and a gentleman appeared at her side to request her hand for the next. It was Tony. His eyes swept her from head to toe with an admiring glance, and he bowed to her with an unusual flourish, but Sophie felt the compliment behind the gesture. Although she had been pleased with her own appearance when she had examined herself in the glass, the splendour of those around her, not confined to the simple dress of the ingénue, had given her doubts.  Now, with his obvious approval, she dimpled attractively.

“Permit me to say how delighted I am to see you here this evening, Miss Corby,” said Tony, offering his arm. “I hope your father is recovered from his attack of the other day?”

She looked at him impishly and replied, “You must not mind Papa. He is frequently given to attacks when a question of good sportsmanship comes up. Live bait is one of his particular dislikes.”

“Rightly so!” agreed Tony with a twinkle. “I hope he has written his letter to the editor. I had half a mind to call the fellow out myself!”

Sophie smiled, but her eyes widened. “I am so glad you did not make that suggestion to Papa, for he might have taken it seriously.”

Tony leaned a bit closer to speak in a confidential tone, and Sophie was suddenly aware of his essence. “I confess the thought did occur to me,” he said, “but I was afraid he might take it up and offer to be my second. Duels are not much in my line, you know.”

They had now entered a set, and they took their places before Sophie addressed him again with a shrewd eye out for a change in his expression.

“Are you not surprised to see me, Sir Tony? I believe you were present when we received a disappointing note from Lady Jersey?”

His expression was all innocence. “Yes, I am. Surprised and delighted, as I said.”

“And yet,” she said, regarding him quizzically, “I think you had more to do with my attending than you would have me think, Sir Tony. How did you manage to change their minds?”

“It was only one mind,” he said, not bothering to deny it. “I would not have you think that there was more than one vote against you. You see, most of the patronesses at Almack’s can be reasonably applied to, and certainly would not vote against someone approved by one of their members, but the Countess Lieven sometimes requires persuasion.”

“The wife of the Russian ambassador?” asked Sophie.

“The same,” said Tony, drawing near her again to speak in a low voice. “The countess is convinced that where she is, there is fashionable society, and she rather delights in passing judgement on us all, I fancy. It gives her a feeling of superiority, something her aristocratic Russian soul cannot do without. But she had nothing against you personally.” He seemed inclined to end his explanation there.

But Sophie’s curiosity had not been satisfied. Even though she could not be called au courant with the London ton, given the limits of her parents’ acquaintance, still she had heard rumours about the Countess Lieven. That lady was new enough to London and had made sufficient sensation that everyone had something to say about her. And it was rumoured that her affairs were numerous. Remembering the Cyprians in the park and their inexplicable familiarity with Sir Tony, Sophie had a peculiarly anxious moment. Just what was his influence with the ambassadress?

In a tone that was as light as she could possibly make it, she asked him more pointedly, “What was it that you said to convince her, then, Sir Tony? I hope you are placed under no obligation to her on my account.”  She did not know that her expression gave away the nature of her concerns.

Tony glanced down at her as they joined hands and moved to the end of the set. His lips were curved in unmistakable enjoyment, but he had to wait to answer her for they were separated in the pattern of the dance and did not come back together for many minutes.

During this time, Sophie threw him furtive glances, while trying not to lose her way in the dance. The unanswered question disturbed her tranquility sufficiently to make concentration on the pattern difficult, but Tony showed no such discomfort. She saw that he was moving gracefully through the set with his accustomed ease. Remembering suddenly the bolting horses in the park and Tony’s loss of composure on that occasion, Sophie was reassured and was able to greet him with a more trusting smile when next they came together.

Her restored confidence may have eliminated any intention of Tony’s to tease her, for he replied to her question with the same honesty with which he had spoken earlier.

“Political intrigue,” he said confidentially, “is the Countess Lieven’s specialty. I’m afraid I used a rather underhanded trick upon the lady, quite unlike me, but I seem to be strangely motivated of late.” He looked at Sophie with a curious lift of his eyebrows, and she coloured without reason. He continued, “I told the Countess a political secret that she has been hoping to learn. She was most grateful and willingly repaid me by sponsoring your name to Almack’s.”

Sophie’s eyes widened in horror. “But, Sir Tony!” she cried. “I would not have you do such a thing for me! Why, I had much rather not be admitted!” She was dismayed to think that, in her inexperience, she might have misunderstood this man.

But Tony smiled reassuringly and squeezed the hand laid so lightly in his. “Miss Corby, you may rest assured that I would never do anything in the least dishonourable, certainly not attached to your name. The secret I gave her is no longer a secret. It will appear in the papers tomorrow. By now, even the Countess has learned that it is common street gossip, which will be confirmed tomorrow by the government.”

Sophie’s relief was so strong that she sighed as she gave a laugh. “But will you not lose your goodwill with the Countess now that she knows?”

Tony shook his head confidently. “I do not think so.  As I made it appear, the knowledge came to me through a member of the government, and as far as the Countess knows, I was as ignorant of its becoming public as she was.” He looked at her and winked conspiratorially. “That was the genius of the plan.”

Sophie again laughed happily. A wave of elation had filled her. It was wonderful how Tony could make her feel, somehow, more in the know than those in the know. He could laugh without malice at those who laughed with malice. And he made her feel as open, free and at ease as he always seemed to be.

The dance ended soon, and Sophie reluctantly turned to find that her next partner as to be Mr. Rollo. On this occasion he was willing to give her his full attention, and so, not begging an introduction to her previous partner, led her back into the dance. Mr. Rollo, too, exhibited considerable skill on the dance floor, but somehow he lacked the easy delivery of Tony’s performance. There was a studied air to Mr. Rollo’s dancing, almost as though he were certain of being watched.

“You handle the steps beautifully, Miss Corby,” he said, and Sophie resisted the impulse to return the compliment in the pause that ensued. “One would say that you had been here many times before, instead of its being your first assembly.”

Sophie smiled politely, but preferred to direct the conversation away from herself. “Have you been a member for many seasons now, Mr. Rollo?” she asked.

Condescendingly, he replied, “Indeed, yes. But that must not discomfit you in any way. You will find the society here overwhelming at first, I know, but you must not consider your place in it in any way inferior to those with more experience of Town life. With time, you, too, will have the same confidence.”

Sophie thanked him as they parted in the set, but she stifled a grimace of distaste as she turned away. In truth, she was finding Mr. Rollo’s conversation to be unreasonably centred upon himself and his opinion thereof. She had not been thinking herself inferior to the company in any way, merely different. And that, she trusted, would always be true.

She had no trouble attending to her dance steps in this set, and the time passed quickly until she was reunited with her partner.

“It has occurred to me, Miss Corby,” Mr. Rollo said after a well-executed bow, “that my experience in society might be of some use to you in these rather awesome circumstances. I fear that the quiz, to which everyone is subject on entering, may have been disconcerting to one only recently out of the school-room, such as yourself, and perhaps I may be of service.”