Trapping a Duchess (9 page)

“Likewise,” she said, deciding he was interesting enough to add to her list of possible husbands. If she determined his amiable temperament to be natural, and not an act, she would advance his name with haste. He was the most promising candidate she'd met thus far.

“What brings you to Gunter's, apart from the obvious?” Simon asked, drawing her attention his way.

“We've just come from Madame Dumont's,” she said, trying not to grin as his brows pulled together.

“Another visit to the modiste?”

She lifted her chin. “So Alex could be fitted for a new gown, yes.”

“And I found the most perfect material,” Alex said, sliding her arm through Simon's. It was their turn to order. Sophie did not step up, deciding to hang back with the undecided Lord Courtland.

“Any particular flavor you recommend, Lady Sophia?” he asked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“She always gets the lemon,” Alex said, flashing a grin over her shoulder.

“Does she?” he asked, shooting Sophie an amused sideways glance. “That good, is it?”

“I find it refreshing,” she said, facing him.

“Lemon? Refreshing?” His expression said he did not agree.

Alex joined them. “I've been trying to lure her away from it for some time. Maybe you will have better luck.”

“Getting my sister to change her mind? Unlikely,” Simon said, nudging Alex towards the door.

“What do you say, Lady Sophia? Can you be lured?” Lord Courtland asked. His lips were curved with mischief, his features softened by boyish enthusiasm.

His teasing expression brought a blush to her cheeks. “I have heard wonderful things about the mango.”

“Then the mango we shall have. Two, please,” he said to the attendant, who prepared the ices with a disinterested smile.

“I wonder where Alexandra and my brother went,” Sophie said, looking for her as she exited the shop.

“I imagine she and Clement are making their way to Hyde Park. We were there before we detoured to Gunter's.” He stood on his tiptoes and looked around. “They are just ahead, rounding the corner. Shall we?”

She wondered if Alex left with Simon for a reason. With the two of them otherwise engaged, Sophie and Lord Courtland were afforded the opportunity to further their acquaintance. “Lead the way,” she said, making a mental note to thank Alex later.

They crossed Berkeley Square and headed towards Mount Street. “My sister Abigail has recently come up from Somerset.”

“Lady Abigail is your youngest sister?”

“Yes,” he said with a laugh. “The youngest of three. Caroline and Grace, my other siblings, are closer in age to me.”

“And you say she only came up last week? Rather late in the season to do so, is it not?”

His grin turned sheepish. “I'm afraid the fault is all mine. I invited her to visit without considering the time of year. My sisters Caroline and Grace both expecting, which means my mother has her hands full going back and forth between them. Abby mentioned she has grown weary from the constant traveling. Don't get me wrong, she adores my sisters, but she's at an age where she prefers to be with her friends. And most of them were coming up to London.”

“Makes sense.”

“Thankfully, Lady Alexandra offered her assistance. I must admit, I had not considered what I was going to do with Abby once she arrived. She does not have much experience with the ton. And older brothers are not the best of chaperones.”

Sophie chuckled, remembering her first season, when Simon was constantly by her side. “Definitely not.”

They reached the entrance to Hyde Park and headed right, towards the Serpentine. “We're just over there,” he said, gesturing toward a large oak tree. Beneath it was spread a blanket, the remains of a picnic apparent. Alex and Simon were already there, chatting as they finished the last of their ices.

“I hope we're not interrupting,” Sophie said, noting the remnants of four place settings.

“Not at all,” Lord Courtland said as he sat down on a corner of the blanket and began loading dishes back into the basket. “Just a picnic with my sister—”

“Lady Abigail is here?” Alexandra interrupted, looking around. “Oh, how perfect! I can't wait for you to meet her, Sophie. You're going to adore her. She's positively charming.”

Sophie shot Lord Courtland a teasing grin. “I am rather looking forward to it, myself, after the glowing way her brother spoke of her.”

“Looks like you won't have to wait long,” Simon said, sounding uncharacteristically cheerful.

“What a pleasant surprise!” a sweet, feminine voice called out from over Sophie's shoulder.

She glanced back to see a pretty brunette approaching, her face bright with excitement. Immediately behind her, a very uncomfortable looking, and
not-at-all-excited
Duke of Tolland.

Sophie's breath caught in her throat. He stopped, gaze clashing, then locking, on hers. She could imagine the thoughts running through his head, none of them friendly. An apology jumped to her lips, but before it made its way out, Lady Abigail moved towards her, grabbing her attention.

“You must be Lady Sophia,” she said, arranging her skirts as she gracefully sat. “Alexandra has told me so many wonderful things about you.”

Sophie took the opportunity to redirect her gaze, trying not to pay attention to Andrew, who was crouched down opposite her on the blanket.

“This bundle of energy is Lady Abigail,” Alexandra said.

Abigail nodded and extended her hand. “Lovely to meet you,” she said with a beaming smile. “And you simply must call me Abby. Alexandra talks about you so often, I feel as if we have known each other for years.” Her laugh was tinkering, gleeful and innocent.

Sophie took her proffered hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “It is wonderful to meet you as well,” she said softly. Andrew's gaze was focused where their two hands were clasped and she felt, rather than saw, tension ripple through his frame. Resisting the urge to wriggle her fingers, she withdrew them. There was something perversely satisfying in knowing she wasn't the only one discomfited.

“What brings you ladies to Hyde Park today?” Andrew asked, directing the question to his sister.

“We ran into Simon at Gunter's. He didn't mention you were having a picnic,” she said, tossing Simon a vaguely scolding look. He answered with an insolent shrug.

“Well, the more the merrier in my opinion,” Lady Abigail said, seemingly oblivious to the tension in the air. Her wide, eager smile was dimpled and her brown eyes sparkling as she turned her attention to the duke. As if infected, his lips curved and the edginess in his face seemed to fall away.

The sight turned Sophie’s stomach. She wrapped her arms around her midsection as Lady Abigail began discussing how she and Andrew were feeding ducks.

“His Grace and I have very different ideas of what the process entails.” She gave him a teasing look.

“Your way is certainly more effective, my lady. I believe you won them all over.”

Sophie slanted him a covert glance, wondering if he was smiling as broadly as it sounded. She frowned. He was staring at Lady Abigail as if the fate of the world rested in her hands. Equal parts uncharacteristic and annoying, it ratcheted her dislike of the girl a notch higher. She glanced around the park as discreetly as possible, searching for a reason to leave. She spotted her mother across the lawns visiting with the rest of the dowagers.

“The four of you should join us at Vauxhall on Saturday,” Lord Courtland said, at the same moment Sophie had decided to rise. His words were directed at the group, but his hazel gaze rested on hers. Disarmed by his boyish grin, she found herself not only staying put, but smiling brilliantly in return. Across from her, Andrew cleared his throat.

“Oh, that would be wonderful!” Abby said, clapping her hands together in excitement. “Please say you’ll come,” she said, looking around at the group, her flirtatious gaze coming to rest on Andrew's. “All of you.”

“Sounds smashing,” Alexandra said.

“Count me in,” Simon added, a smug grin on his face as he examined his fingernails. Of course, he would want to witness Sophie's torment.

“What about you, Your Grace?” Lady Abigail asked.

“Of course,” he said, and the girl’s unbridled enthusiasm served as Sophie’s proverbial straw.

She could not take another second of being there. In one quick movement she stood, causing Alexandra to glance up at her. “Are you all right, Sophie?”

“I am fine,” she answered quickly. “But the invitation reminded me of an important matter I need to discuss with my mother.” She gestured to where her mother was standing, as if that would explain her urgent need. Alexandra stood at once, followed immediately by Lord Courtland and, of course, the ever respectful duke. Somehow they had ended up standing close enough that their arms brushed. Taking a step back, Sophie put her hands out. “There is no need for you to cut your visit short, Alexandra,” she insisted. “Please don't leave on my account.”

“‘Tis no issue, Sophie,” Alex said, moving to Sophie's side. “Besides, I should like to get Lady Winifred's opinion on that pattern we saw at Madame Dumont's.”

“I'm certain she'll be riveted,” Simon said under his breath.

Sophie shot him a dark look before facing Lady Abigail and Lord Courtland. “It was nice to see you again, my lord, and lovely meeting you, Lady Abigail.”

“Likewise,” Lady Abigail answered, but her expression faltered as it moved from Sophie to Andrew.
What did she see
? Sophie wondered, tilting her head.

Lord Courtland offered a stately bow. “Lady Sophia, it has been a pleasure.”

“Thank you for the ice, my lord,” she said, offering a pretty curtsy.

As Alex made her goodbyes, Andrew drew Sophie's attention his way. “I trust you will join me in taking Simon to task for his part in this awkwardness.”

“Indeed I will,” she said, meeting his gaze. “Though he is not the only one whose behavior falls short of gentlemanly expectation. Enjoy the rest of your visit, Your Grace.” She curtsied dutifully, then stepped away. Linking her arm through Alexandra's, she directed them away from the group.

As they headed towards the dowagers, Alex glanced at her askance. “Did you really wish to speak with your mother?”

“Not especially,” Sophie sighed, wishing she had never agreed to go to Gunter's. The mango ice hadn’t been delicious enough to compensate for the ensuing discomfort.

“Then let us change directions. We could chat with Lord Roxford. Or, if you're in the mood for something more challenging, we could try our hands at making polite conversation with Lady Araminda. She's just over there.”

Sophie took in the woman's bird-like features and laughed. “You can be quite the inciter, when it suits you, Lex.”

“One takes enjoyment where one can.”

“And now you sound like my brother.”

“Whose individual parts are far more tolerable than his sum. I suppose he's in for it for not mentioning Andrew was part of the picnic.”

“I'd blacken the blackguard's eye, if he wouldn't cut off my pin money.”

Alex burst out laughing. “Oh, Sophie, I adore you so. Without you, my life would be dull and intolerable.”

“I'm so glad I can be of help.” She meant her dry tone to be light, but the burden of the afternoon rang through. Thank goodness there was only Alex to hear.

Chapter Six

Andrew kept a furtive eye on Sophie's retreating form as she made her way across the lawns. Her presence at their picnic had taken the wind right out of his sails.
Worse than that
, he thought. Seeing her brought forth a current of turbulent air that blew his boat right out of the water.

“Wouldn't you agree, Your Grace?” came Lady Abigail’s voice.

“Pardon?” he asked, yanking his gaze to the woman with whom he was supposed to be enjoying the afternoon.

“Zach and I were just discussing the number of events scheduled at the end of the season. There are so many balls and soirees, it's difficult to choose which ones to attend.”

“Indeed,” Andrew said, trying not to sound as disinterested as he felt. Lady Abigail's cheerful chatter, so refreshing earlier in the day, was beginning to grate on his nerves. He didn't fault her for his change in attitude. Only when compared to the sophisticated Sophie did Lady Abigail seem callow. “I think you will find most invitations involve some manner of sacrifice or gain. Deciding which to accept comes down to weighing pros against cons.”

A bemused smile curved her lips. “In other words, the best approach is to choose the event that tips the scale in my favor?”

“Or, failing that, do what I do. Choose the one with the best food.” Her eyes widened and she cleared her throat. “I'm only kidding,” he said, deciding to rescue her.

“Oh,” she said, sounding relieved. He wondered if she was incapable of appreciating dry humor or if she was somewhat of a prude.

“Speaking of food,” Simon said, pushing away from the tree he was leaning against, “we should depart.” Andrew stood and offered his hand to help Lady Abigail up.

“Thank you for the pleasant outing, Your Grace,” she said softly.