Three Original Ladies 02 - Lord Trowbridge’s Angel (3 page)

“Oh, look, there’s Elise! I simply must speak with her, Lord Trowbridge.” Turning to Bella and Joseph, she said. “Tomorrow night then, at eight o’clock!”

As they crossed the floor to her sister, Frank said, “Does Fanny mind your dispensing dinner invitations without consulting her?”

“No, not at all. Fanny loves company. It is really the only way she gets to see people when she’s tied down with the baby.”

“Umm. Can she not get a wet nurse?”

Sophie gave a little laugh. “My sister is a frustrated actress. This is a new role for Fanny. She adores Alexa and knows this year will pass quickly. She has made the choice to bond with her baby. You know, she really does not thrive as a member of the
ton.
But she likes individual people who accept her on her own terms.”

“Yes,” Frank said. “Fanny is definitely an Original. I adore her. Buck is a lucky man.”

“That is what I think.”

As they came up behind the duchess, Sophie put her hand on her sister’s elbow. “Darling Elise, I had to come over to say hello.”

Her sister, a renowned beauty with hair as black as his own and her famous midnight blue eyes, turned and embraced Sophie. “Dear one, how lovely you look!” Turning to Frank, she said, “Lord Trowbridge! How pleasant to see you.”

“Duchess,” he said, bowing over her outstretched hand. “A pleasure. I am enjoying coming to know your lovely sister.”

“Frank is celebrated for his manners,” the duchess told her sister.

“I might have guessed,” Sophie said. “He is a seemingly bottomless source of flattery.”

“I have only spoken the truth,” Frank said. Turning to the duchess, he asked, “Has it never occurred to you that your sister resembles an angel?”

Elise pinched Sophie’s chin. “She has turned into a pretty thing.”

“How are Emma and Alistair? Do they miss their aunt?” Sophie asked.

“Alistair is forever wanting you to come and build a fort with him. Emma just screws up her little face and cries for you.”

“I promise, I shall make time for them this next week.” She seized the opportunity to tell the duchess about meeting the Carstairs and their plans.

Sophie’s sister looked at Frank with a faint, gloating smile. “Wait until you hear Sophie on the violin. Talk about an angel!” She grasped her sister’s hand. “Play
Laudate Dominum
for him.” The duchess turned to Frank again. “Mozart,” she said.

Frank raised an eyebrow. “Lovely. I will prepare to be enchanted.”

Now, how to entertain her further this evening? He was unaccountably anxious that she should like London. There were more musical people to see, and so he set about finding them. For Sophie’s sake.

{ 3 }

WHEN THE TIME CAME FOR SUPPER
, Sophie found that she was somewhat wilted. However, Lord Trowbridge had been so accommodating with his introductions to people of a musical turn that she was enjoying herself hugely. And that was on top of the pleasure she felt at being in his company. He was certainly diverting.

“You must try the lobster patties. They are
de rigueur
at all
ton
parties,” the viscount said.

“I will. And after supper, I must insist that you take me home and return here on your own. I have monopolized your entire evening, and you have not seen your own friends or had a chance to dance.”

“Seeing you in full flight has been treat enough for me, Angel. You have no idea how refreshing an evening this has been. Dancing every night during the season can become a bore, you know.”

Smiling at his sobriquet, Sophie put one lobster patty on her plate along with a dab of chicken salad and a bit of fruit compote.

“Would you care for champagne, or would you prefer lemonade?” her escort asked.

“I think lemonade would suit best,” she replied.

When he moved off to procure it for her, she was approached by a woman in a turban. Of indeterminate age, she was dressed in chartreuse satin and was peering at Sophie through her quizzing glass.

“You look a sweet thing, my dear. I have it that you are fresh from the country. A word to the wise? Your escort is not all charm and good cheer. Do not be taken in by him.”

“I am sorry,” Sophie said, drawing herself up. “We have not been introduced.”

Lord Trowbridge returned and handed Sophie her drink before addressing the woman at her side. “Lady Polwarth, have you met my friend, Miss Edwards, then?”

“No, I am afraid I have not had the pleasure. I have just been warning her about you.”

Trowbridge laughed. “You still hold me in abhorrence then?”

“This young man,” Lady Polwarth said with stern emphasis, “told me it was not the done thing to bring my pug to a ball. Poor thing has been pining at home of an evening ever since.”

“I do not know what the done thing is, Lady Polwarth. However, it seems he was very ill-mannered to say such a thing to a lady of your standing.”

“I
do
like you, my dear. Such an angelic face.”

Trowbridge laughed again. “You have the right of it, Lady P. You will pardon us, I am certain. We cannot eat standing up and must find a place at the table.”

They joined an almost-full table of chattering guests. The din in the smaller room hammered in Sophie’s ears. Many of the company appeared to be drunken, and it was with displeasure that she saw Lady Manwaring seated across from her. Looking at the woman as surreptitiously as she could manage, she tried to determine her age.

She was older than she appeared, Sophie decided; that gamine look masked her age. She was casting fulminating glances at Lord Trowbridge, and to Sophie’s surprise, she felt what must have been the woman’s stockinged foot seeking Trowbridge’s beneath the table! Oh dear. Sophie feared she was going to giggle.

“So how does our trial friendship progress, my angel?” her escort asked, seemingly unaware of Lady Manwaring’s attentions.

Sophie thought for a moment. “One of the measures by which a man is judged is …” she could not say the rest: ‘is the company he keeps.’ She would sound a self-righteous prig. “It is far too early to tell, my lord. I know that you have exquisite, if not exaggerated, manners. I know that you are very good company. Also, greatly in your favor, is the fact that you do not seem to mind a bit that I am lame.”

She thought she saw a flush starting under his dark complexion but could not be certain. He turned to look at her, and his face wore the identical grave expression it had in the drawing room upon first seeing her walking toward him. “Do not reduce yourself to the level of your infirmity. It is, I assume, due to an accident. Your character, on the other hand, is the result of carefully trained will.”

She was so surprised by this comment, Sophie could not speak for a moment. “That statement is certainly worthy of a friend,” she said at last.

~
~*

In the carriage on the way back to Buck and Fanny’s townhouse, Sophie decided to explain, something she scarcely ever did. “When I was four years of age, I had rheumatic fever. My bad knee joint dates from then. I am very lucky not to have taken more damage from the illness.”

“Your other joints are sound?” Trowbridge asked.

“Yes, fortunately. If my hands had been affected, I would not have been a violinist.”

“I am truly looking forward to tomorrow night.”

Sophie looked up into his handsome face, lit only partially by the moonlight. He was studying her. “I am, as well,” she said.

“Will you return from Lady Melissa’s to Buck’s before five o’clock?”

“I suppose I could. My time is my own, which is a delight in itself.”

“Five o’clock is the fashionable hour to be seen riding in Hyde Park. I should love to show you off, Angel.”

“I am not a horseback rider, I am afraid.”

“We will go in my sporting curricle.”

“That sounds perfect,” she responded, very aware of him sitting close to her. Was it too forward of her to wish that he would take one of her hands?

It must have been a bad wish, for the faeries left it unanswered.

~
~*

Fanny was awake when Sophie came in, having just been up with the baby. Buck was very happy that the baby arrangements dictated that they would not be doing the balls this season. Since he had resigned his Captaincy, he found the amusements of the
ton
insipid. And Fanny disliked the restrictions society enforced upon women. The two of them preferred traveling abroad, and had only come home for Fanny’s confinement. When Alexa was old enough to bear the rigors of life at sea, they would resume their travels.

“How was your first ball?” her sister asked.

“It was lovely, Fan. But I am fair fatigued. I asked Lord Trowbridge to bring me home early, both because I am not used to such late hours, and because I wished for him to have a chance to dance. I hope he will return to the ball.”

“That is just like you, Sophie. Knowing Frank, he probably was grateful not to fight off all the ladies, but to devote himself to you.”

“Does he usually have to fight off all the women?”

Fanny laughed. “You saw how devilishly handsome he is. What do you think?” Sophie smiled at Fanny’s slang. After the formality of the ton, it was nice to be treated with familiarity.

“He was very kind to me, and very attentive. There was only one woman who tried to get him to dance with her, and he gave her a set down.”

“I am exceedingly glad that he was kind. And who would not be attentive to you, you sweet and lovely thing?”

“Of course
you
would think so! He introduced me to masses of people who enjoy or play music. I hope you do not mind, but a Mr. and Mrs. Carstairs are coming for dinner tomorrow night. Also Frank. I am going to play for them, and then we are going to make some decisions about the
musicale.
I asked them to perform in it, as well. They are well known, apparently.”

“Famous! Oh, I am so glad. Dinner will be enjoyable. I really wished above all things that you could meet the Carstairs. I even mentioned it to Frank when we hatched this scheme.”

“Thank you, Fanny. It was a splendid thought. Have you any idea when we can hold the
musicale
?”

“How long will it take you to rehearse?”

“I will have to see what it is we are going to play. I have a piece in mind, but I think I should defer to the Carstairs. I would say we will be ready in two or three weeks.”

“Splendid. I shall write out the invitations after we confer with Joseph and Bella.”

“Tomorrow will be busy. I’m taking tea with Melissa and then Lord Trowbridge is driving me in the park at five.”

“You will have a busy day. You need to remember that you’ll be performing tomorrow night!”

“I’m doing
Laudate Dominum.
It is not difficult.”

“Oh, Sophie, I would not have you racket about so. You will overdo and become ill again. I would not have you lose your bloom.”

“I am not nearly so fragile as you think me. But I will retire now and hope we can have a chat about the gorgeous Frank on the morrow. I wish to quiz you about him.”

“All right then, dearest. You go to bed. And have a long lie in.”

“I shall.”

~
~*

Melissa was in alt when Sophie called the next day. The sitting room fairly bloomed with all the bouquets she had received. Her friend was pretty with her fair hair and blue eyes, but she did not pretend to great beauty. Sophie always differed with her on this subject, and did so that afternoon.

“But I cannot aspire to equal your looks, Sophie. My cheeks are like a squirrel’s full of nuts, and yours are so beautifully hollow, with your high cheekbones and delicate jaw. It makes you look quite ethereal. When I am old, I shall have twelve chins, so I must be careful in my selection of a husband. I must find someone who tends to corpulence.”

“Oh, never say so!” Sophie laughed. “Your nature is so sunny, you will be a perpetual delight to whomever you marry. Now tell me, were you thrilled by any of your partners last night?”

Melissa dimpled. “Well, there was one. Lord Oaksey. He is a very fine dancer. I felt like I was in heaven when we waltzed. Of course, I had to get permission first from Lady Jersey. But, oh, Sophie, the waltz is divine. And he looked right into my eyes until I thought he must see my very soul. I am afraid I already have a
tendre
for him.”

“He sounds lovely,” Sophie said. “Was he handsome?”

“Oh, yes. At least I thought so. He is fair, with the most divine brown eyes. And tall! Why, he absolutely towers over me. I like it. It makes me feel dainty, which as you know, I am not.”

“Melissa! You are not overlarge! Stop talking so.”

“But I have always compared myself to you. As a matter of fact, you will not credit it, but remember the man in the outrageous turquoise coat and breeches who asked me to dance?”

Sophie shuddered. “I do not think I will ever forget him!”

“He quizzed me about you and called you a Pocket Venus!”

“Well that was very bad form when he was dancing with
you!”

“Of course it was, but what do you expect from a man who would dress as he did?”

They laughed together.

“Now tell me more about this Lord Oaksey. Did he send you a posy?”

Melissa batted her eyelashes and looked coy. “Of course. Allow me to show you!”

Going to a mantle full of floral offerings, she selected a bouquet of yellow roses she had set in the very center. After taking a long sniff, she waltzed around the room, holding them to her as though they were her partner.

“And what do your parents think of this young man?” Sophie asked. She felt ancient suddenly, wondering if she could ever experience an ecstasy that would cause her to act as carefree as her friend did. With the childhood she had experienced, Sophie had never been lighthearted and had learned to bury her feelings, be they good or bad. Melissa had been the only harbinger of joy at a very bleak time in her life.

“Oh, it is far too soon for any of that. But, speaking of the parents, my father is livid. Only think: Donald was sent down from Oxford for gambling in his rooms!”