Three Original Ladies 02 - Lord Trowbridge’s Angel (20 page)

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~*

Frank appeared at the Aldridges’ home that evening, dressed in a scarlet domino, carrying his loo mask. He waited in the front parlor for Lady Melissa to appear.

In she came, escorted by Lord Donald. To his surprise, she was a very sophisticated Cleopatra, wearing a black wig, a gold lamé dress that clung slightly to her form, a gold bracelet on her upper arm, and a gold circlet over her wig. Her brother was outfitted as Anthony, in Roman soldier’s garb.

“Well done!” Frank exclaimed. “You look very well indeed.”

“And you?” Lady Melissa inquired. “Is that supposed to be a costume?”

“A domino is acceptable. I did not decide to attend until the last minute. Have you masks?”

They showed him the identical gold masks they carried.

“Shall we be off, then?”

Lady Melissa proved to be in high demand at the masquerade, particularly by a Red Indian who wore a fabulous headdress, a leather vest that showed much of his red-stained, well-muscled chest, and a leather kilt arrangement that came only to his knees.

Frank’s fiancée seemed to know who he was, but Frank remained ignorant. Her dance card filled in a hurry, and he was lucky to secure the supper dance. He had planned on staying by her side throughout the evening, but with all the gentlemen intent on claiming dances, he soon found himself
de trop.

Standing on the sidelines, his mind went to Sophie, following its accustomed path. He ached to see her. He longed for the restfulness of her angel-like countenance. He wished more than he could express to travel with her to that world where her violin carried him. Frank was beginning to know himself better, and he knew that he was losing touch with that world and all that it represented in his life.

What would the angel do if confronted by a masked, red domino? Buck’s house was near to this one. Perhaps he could slip away for a few moments. Perhaps if he did not present his own name, she would consent to see him.

{ 33 }

SOPHIE WAS PRACTICING HER VIOLIN
in the drawing room where Fanny was embroidering a dress for Alexa when Perkins entered, saying, “A gentleman in a red domino has called, my lady.”

“Oh!” Fanny said, “It is Lady Hasting’s masquerade tonight! The carriages and chaises were backed up almost to our front door. Has some poor soul gotten lost?”

“I suppose it is Frank, or perhaps Lord Shrewsbury,” Sophie said, laying her violin and bow on the game table. “Maybe there is no harm in letting him come in.”

Her undisciplined heart lurched in her breast at the idea of seeing Frank, even in a mask. It was clearly he who strode into the room, for he wore no head covering and she recognized his black hair with its distinctive wave. She stood where she was, staring. All the reasons she had for turning him away flew out of her head.

“Goodness, you look dramatic, Frank!” Fanny said. “Have you escaped from the party and left your fiancée?”

“Tonight Lady Melissa is Cleopatra, and has attracted such a court of followers that I was only allowed the supper dance, which is not until midnight.”

Sophie’s spirits lifted at this news. Apparently, Melissa was going to escape social ruin. Frank was acknowledging her as his fiancée. But she asked, “And Lady Manwaring? Who is she tonight?”

“I have not the slightest idea,” Frank said, striding further into the room until he stood directly in front of her. He put hands on her shoulders and looked down into her face. “I have informed her that the next time she latches on to me the way she did the other night, I will publicly repudiate her. I know it sounds harsh, but it was the only threat I could use to make her see reason. I do not imagine she is madly in love with me. I think it is just that her vanity is hurt.”

Sophie moved out of his vicinity by taking a chair before the fireplace. “Heaven knows how long it will take for the slight you offered Melissa to be forgotten.”

“It was certainly not intentional. You have never been to a rout, Sophie. Fanny, will you not describe a rout to your sister?”

Fanny gave a little laugh and said, “The ambition of every hostess of a rout is to have so many people attend that it is termed a ‘crush.’ The object of the evening is to converse, but that is made exceedingly difficult because one can hardly hear oneself think.”

“So,” Frank said, “Even though Lady Melissa might have been close to me in purely geographical terms, there were at least two conversational circles between us.”

Sophie was quiet. Frank always seemed to have a facile answer for everything.

“Sophie?” he asked. “Do you forgive me for the unintentional slight of your friend?”

Thoughts that had been tormenting her all day long spilled to the surface. “You are a brilliant star among the
ton,
Frank. That is something I never aspire to be.” She looked at him, standing with his arm along the mantel above her. His eyes were warm but questioning. “It is very hard to sit in this house and hear things about you, wondering if they are true, exaggerated, or downright false. And how would you like to be married to someone who did not desire a social life among the
ton?
Whose tastes are quiet and close to home? I do not dance, ride, or even stroll very well. It pains me very much to say so, Frank, but I do not think we would suit.”

She knew that in another moment she would be in tears, so she stood and nodded. “Good evening, Fanny, Frank. I am going up.”

Frank caught up with her in the hall, hand on her arm. “Sophie! There has been too much misunderstanding between us. All I want is you. Society has bored me for years.”

“Please leave, Frank. This has been a very difficult day. And, judging by your actions, I do not think you truly know your own heart.”

~
~*

Once in her room, Sophie wept again over Frank. In her mind, she could see the knot that had originally formed between them. At one time, it had seemed so strong and inevitable. It was badly frayed through absence and misunderstanding. She could not keep offering her trust, only to be dashed with cold disappointment. Her heart hurt almost constantly now.

She wished mightily that she did not have to remain in town for her performance. At the moment, more than anything, she wished herself in Derbyshire, safe and secure. Away from the temptation of thinking that she might be loved. And away from the prospect of her best friend marrying the only man she had ever thought to marry herself. The man who was so wrong for her in every way.

Sophie slept fitfully, tormented by a recurring dream. She was playing her violin—a piece far too difficult for her. Frank was present as some sort of ghost in a red domino. He flew about the room, occasionally touching her with magic fingers. Every time he touched her, she found the right note, and her bow soared.

{ 34 }

STUNNED, FRANK STUMBLED BACK
to the masquerade. Thoughts collided in his head. Sophie was right.

He claimed to have changed, but nothing he had done since the night his inner self had responded so wholeheartedly to her violin demonstrated that. He had become embroiled in fiasco after fiasco. It was time he devoted serious thought to the situation.

His watch told him that it lacked a half hour until supper. The supper dance must begin soon. He must find Lady Melissa.

In her gold sheath, she was distinguishable even in the crowd of multi-colored costumes. At the moment, she was dancing with the Red Indian. Her features were animated. Even from the sidelines, he could read the sparkle in her eyes.

Frank felt himself to be the worst kind of villain for the situation in which they found themselves. It was only one of the shocks Sophie had had to bear. She had thought on two occasions that he had taken up with Lila again. He was devilishly careless in his actions. They took him leagues away from the person he wanted to become.

He was forced to admit the truth of Sophie’s words. At the present juncture, they clearly did not suit. But not because of Sophie’s preferences, but rather because he had failed them both. What was it he had said?
That he wanted to live an intentional life.
He was a hollow man, reacting to bad situations, further from an intentional life than he had ever been. His heart was in the game, but not his head. He had not made the changes he should have. He should never have visited Sophie in her room, no matter how tempting it had been. And he should have been firm with Lila, thinking how their actions would appear. Even the night she came to his house. He should have persuaded her to leave at once.

Melissa was coming off the floor, smiling up at her partner. He walked near to where they stood, reluctant to curtail her pleasure with his presence. As the next set started to form, he walked up to the pair.

“Excuse me, Your Highness. This is our dance.”

The Red Indian had been holding her hand. He gave it over to Frank in a formal gesture. Frank nodded stiffly and led Melissa out on the crowded dance floor.

“You’re looking grim, my lord. Is dancing with me such a punishment?” his partner asked.

“Not at all. If I am looking grim, it is because Sophie has ended things between us. I do not blame her. My life has been one disaster after another, of late.”

They were separated by the dance.

He decided to defer further discussion until supper. But at supper, her former partner managed to grab the place at their table that was on Lady Melissa’s other side. She conversed with him exclusively, ignoring Frank.

The further the evening progressed, the more blue-deviled he became. An endless progression of
ton
parties stretched ahead of him. An unbroken chain of late breakfasts and dinners at his club. The empty pursuits of boxing, carriage racing, and gambling. Anything to keep him away from serious thought.

These things tormented him as he accompanied Lady Melissa home in his carriage in the wee hours of the morning.

“Who was the Red Indian, my dear?” he asked, pulling himself out of his abstraction with difficulty. “He seemed quite smitten.”

Melissa smiled as she removed the gold circlet from her wigged head.” Lord Oaksey. Was not his costume marvelous? It took me a long time to recognize him.”

“Allow me once more to say how sorry I am for asking your help in the matter of breaking into Deal’s mansion. It was careless and irresponsible. I completely failed to anticipate the damage to your reputation.”

Lady Melissa sighed. “I agreed to it without a moment’s thought. It is as much my fault as yours. I thought it sounded a splendid adventure.” Melissa sighed. “I certainly do not fit conveniently in your life.”

“If we marry, I pledge that I will give you my best self. I think we will do as well or better as most
ton
couples.”

“You sound resigned for the first time.”

“As I said, Sophie has given me up. It is time I ceased being a creature of the
ton.
That is what has given her a disgust of me.”

“But you love her still.”

“Yes. It would be better to lie and be gallant, I know.”

“Being a jilted lover does not suit you, my lord. You have lost your wit, your
elan.
I suspect you are feeling sorry for yourself. It would be far better if you decided upon a course of action to win her back.” Lady Melissa spoke in earnest. “And I am not yet resigned to this engagement, and certainly not to marriage. We must continue to seek a way out.”

~
~*

As Frank lay in his bed, sleep would not come.
Sophie has such purity of spirit. Her resemblance to an angel is not accidental. Yet her kisses set me on fire. Lady Melissa is right. I must think of a way to win her back. Perhaps she has a live ember of love for me somehow. I think I would be a good husband to her, given the chance. I know I would cherish her. From what Lord Donald said about her mother, she has had remarkably little cherishing in her life. Living with her sisters and their husbands is certainly better than living with her parents, but how much better if she were to have her own children to love.

I have shown her my worst trait—carelessness. How can I show her the side of me that wishes to cherish her?

As he lay awake thinking of the things he wanted to give Sophie, an idea began to form in his mind. Perhaps she would think it none of his business, but he did not think she would refuse it, if offered.

In spite of the late hour and little sleep, Frank was up early the next morning. Breakfasting at Brook’s before most of the ton was awake, he sauntered out into the lovely day and hailed a hackney.

“Harley Street, Number Ten,” he told the driver.

{ 35 }

SOPHIE HAD JUST FINISHED
with her rehearsal when Perkins entered the music room.

“Miss Edwards, Lord Trowbridge and a Dr. Shelton to see you.”

Sophie took the cards he handed to her. On Frank’s card was written, “I beg the favor of your indulgence for a few minutes only.” The doctor’s card read “Dr. Blake Shelton, Skeletal and Muscle Specialist.”

Puzzled, she could not imagine what Frank was doing here. However, inasmuch as he had someone with him, she did not think she could send him away. Besides, she had spent the night in futile tears and
wanted
t
o
see him again. Even if only for a few minutes
.

“Send them in, please, Perkins.”

Frank entered, dressed in the cobalt blue coat that emphasized the intensity of his blue eyes. He overshadowed the small, portly young man next to him, who gave her a short half bow.

“Miss Edwards, allow me to present Dr. Shelton. He belongs to Brook’s and I have known him a good many years. I took the liberty of consulting him regarding your knee.”

Startled, she hardly knew how to react at this presumption. Straightening to her full height, she began to protest, then stopped, confused. Frank had not done this to affront her. There was no other reason he might have inquired over such a matter except to try to help her.

“Dr. Shelton, how nice to meet you. Shall we have a seat in the morning room?” She led the two men through a connecting door, where Fanny was writing out invitations to the
musicale.