Courting Miss Vallois (6 page)

‘In that case, I shall have a breakfast tray sent up as well.'

Thankfully, Jeanette was waiting to help her undress and after the magnificent gown was removed and carefully hung in the closet, Sophie sat down at the dressing table and gazed longingly at the bed. ‘I don't suppose I could go to bed without having my hair brushed?'

Jeanette pursed her lips. ‘Her ladyship wouldn't like it, miss. She's very particular about that sort of thing.'

‘Yes, I'm sure she is.' Sophie sighed as she turned to face the glass. As the maid took the pins from her hair and it came tumbling down around her shoulders, Sophie closed her eyes and let her mind drift back over the events of the evening. Ironically, she found herself thinking about Robert Silverton. Why, she couldn't imagine. The man had made no secret of the fact he didn't like her, yet she was finding it exceedingly difficult to put him from her thoughts. She had followed his progress around the room, watching as he had stopped to speak with people he knew. The young ladies had been careful to keep their distance, but several of the older ones had smiled in a way that led Sophie to believe he was still
very
attractive to women open to
une dalliance
.

‘Sophie, are you awake?' Lavinia called from the other side of the door.

‘Yes.' Sophie opened her eyes, glad to have something to think about other than Robert Silverton. ‘Come in, Lavinia.'

Lavinia did, looking wonderfully exotic and far too wide awake in a dressing robe of deep crimson silk
trimmed with layers of snowy white lace. Her long dark hair was caught in a loose knot at the nape of her neck and there was a definite twinkle in her eyes. ‘Thank you, Jeanette. That will be all.'

The maid put down the silver-handled brush, bobbed a curtsy and left. Lavinia waited for the door to close before settling herself on the edge of the bed and gazing at Sophie's reflection in the glass. ‘I hope you don't mind, but I couldn't wait until breakfast to hear what you thought of your first ball. And to tell you how proud Nicholas and I were of you this evening. I'm sure we will see your name in the society pages tomorrow.'

Sophie turned on the upholstered seat and her mouth lifted in a smile. ‘I hope they neglect to mention that I addressed the Countess of Doncaster's eldest daughter as Lady Doncaster.'

Lavinia dismissed it with a wave. ‘You apologised so sweetly even Lady Doncaster couldn't take offence. But we could spend some time with
Debrett's
tomorrow, if you like.'

‘Or we could just avoid attending any more grand balls. But I did enjoy myself this evening, Lavinia, and I think Antoine did too.'

‘Good, because I noticed several young ladies watching him,' Lavinia commented. ‘Miss Margaret Quilling couldn't take her eyes from him.'

‘Which one was she?'

‘The tall girl in white. Quite pretty, with blond hair dressed with feathers and pearls.'

Sophie nodded, remembering the ensemble rather than the lady. It had been of white tulle over satin with a rather unusual band of satin crescents forming a wide border around the bottom. The sleeves had been short
and edged with a smaller band of crescents. ‘Yes, I remember. She complimented me on my gown and asked if I'd had it made in Paris.'

‘Really? I must pass that on to Madame Delors. She will be delighted to know that her gowns are being praised by such illustrious members of society.' Lavinia got up and wandered across to the window. ‘Does the room please you, Sophie? I thought you might prefer one facing the square.'

‘The room is perfect,' Sophie said, glancing around the spacious chamber. A huge four-poster bed was draped in lavender velvet, with the bedspread and pillows being of a lighter hue. A wardrobe stood against the opposite wall and a writing table was nestled under a window framed by delicate white curtains. ‘My mother would have loved it. Lavender was always her favourite colour.'

‘It must have been hard for you to leave her.'

‘I didn't get the chance.' Sophie's eyes misted as they always did when she thought of the gentle woman who had raised her as best she could, despite the frequent bouts of debilitating illness. ‘She died four years ago.'

‘Oh, my dear, I'm so sorry. I didn't know.'

‘That's all right. She passed peacefully in her sleep.'

Lavinia's face softened. ‘And your father? Do you miss him?'

Sophie felt a return of the old disappointment, followed by the inevitable feelings of guilt. ‘I wish I could say I did, but after Mama died, Papa became a very difficult man. He grew bitter and argumentative. Always looking for fault. When he found out what Antoine and I had done, he made it very clear we were not welcome in his house.'

‘Gracious! How
did
he find out?'

‘There was talk of it in the village,' Sophie said, unwilling to say more. ‘When Papa heard, he accused Antoine of being sympathetic to the English cause and of disgracing the Vallois name. He said he was never to show his face in Bayencourt again!'

‘How cruel!'

‘It was, but Antoine and Papa never really got on. By the next morning, we were gone.'

‘But why did you go with him, Sophie? You were so young. Surely Antoine would have preferred that you stay behind.'

‘Of course, but how could I stay when it was
my
fault he had to leave?'

‘Your fault?'

‘I was the one who asked him to help Nicholas.'

‘Oh, my dear, you must
never
reproach yourself for that,' Lavinia said. ‘You should be proud that you cared enough about the life of a stranger that you would try to help him.'

‘He would have died if I hadn't,' Sophie said, remembering the extent of Nicholas's injuries when she had found him lying at the side of the road. ‘But I was actually more worried about him after he left. With no memory of what had happened to him, I was afraid the man who'd shot him might still be out there waiting for him.'

‘He was,' Lavinia said quietly. ‘Thankfully, Nicholas was able to track him down and bring him to justice before he was able to harm anyone else. But you were very brave to do what you did. And to leave home like that.'

‘It was hard in the beginning,' Sophie admitted. ‘We
were afraid one of our neighbours might have alerted the authorities, so after we left Bayencourt, we kept to the back roads and were careful not to draw attention to ourselves. We slept in barns, ate when and where we could. Once we reached Paris, it was easy to lose ourselves in the crowds. Eventually, Antoine managed to find accommodation for us over a small shop, and after working at a number of jobs, he was offered an apprenticeship with Monsieur Larocque.'

‘How did you come to be employed by Mrs Grant-Ogilvy?' Lavinia asked.

Sophie's stomach clenched, the way it always did when that name was mentioned. ‘I made a gown for the daughter of one of her friends. I remember sitting for hours at a time, handstitching hundreds of tiny beads to the bodice. When Mrs Grant-Ogilvy saw it, she asked to meet the girl who had done the work. As it happens, she was also looking for someone to teach her daughters how to speak French, so I was hired to do both.'

‘How long were you with her?'

‘Just over a year. I left just before her eldest daughter married.' Sophie decided to keep her other reason for leaving to herself. She had no desire to talk about Eldon. Eldon, with his grasping hands and hot liquored breath…

‘Well, it was certainly a valuable association for you,' Lavinia said. ‘It explains how you came to speak English so well and to carry yourself with such grace. I'm quite sure you will be married before the end of the Season.'

Mon Dieu,
that word again. ‘Lavinia, I meant what I said about not wishing to find a husband,' Sophie said
slowly. ‘I know this may sound strange, but I would like to open a shop.'

‘A shop? You mean…you wish to be in
trade
?'

The look of abject horror on Lavinia's face made Sophie laugh. ‘Oh, Lavinia, it's not that bad. I'm a very good seamstress and I have a definite talent for design. I want to make clothes for ladies who can't afford the expensive
ateliers
of Paris.'

‘But if you were married, you wouldn't
need
to work,' Lavinia pointed out. ‘You would be able to lead the life of a lady and you would have the respect of society—'

‘But not the independence,' Sophie said. ‘I would be subject to my husband's whims. Forever at his beck and call, with nothing to call my own. That is not how I wish to live my life.'

‘But you are so very beautiful, Sophie,' Lavinia said, trying to make her understand. ‘You saw how popular you were tonight.'

‘What I saw were ladies far more accomplished than myself dancing with gentlemen of wealth and breeding in a world familiar to them both. That isn't
my
world, Lavinia. And no gentleman of good family is going to bother with an unsophisticated French girl like me.'

‘Let me tell you something, Sophia Chantal Vallois,' Lavinia said quietly. ‘The young lady I've come to know is not in the least unsophisticated. She is a beautiful young woman who is going to make a lot of men fall in love with her, and when
she
finds the right man, she is going to find out that being loved by him is the sweetest pleasure of all.'

Sophie's mouth twisted. ‘I will tell you if it happens.'

‘You won't have to.' Lavinia stood up, her face breaking into a smile. ‘Your face will say it all.'

‘S
o, did you meet anyone at Lady Bruxton's ball with whom you would like to further an acquaintance?' Robert asked his sister as he turned the landau towards Eaton Place the following afternoon.

Jane, who was looking exceedingly stylish in a deep maroon gown with a new cream-and-maroon bonnet, pulled a face. ‘Not a one—and please do not suggest I encourage Mr Hemmings. He is surely the most tiresome man on earth.'

‘What about Sir Bartholomew Grout?'

‘For pity's sake, Robert. Even wearing spectacles, the man is constantly tripping over his own feet. I need someone sturdier than that lest we both find ourselves on the ground half the time. And though I spoke to him for almost ten minutes, he did not smile at me once!'

‘A most grievous offence, I'm sure,' Robert said as he drew up before the Longworths' town house.

‘It was to me,' Jane said. ‘And I suspect it would be to you as well.'

‘Thankfully, I'm not keeping a list of anyone's good or bad points at the moment.'

‘Well, you should. That way when the right lady comes along, you will be prepared.'

Robert secured the reins. ‘Fine. When she appears, I shall be sure to make a note of how many times she makes me smile.'

‘Odious man!' Jane said, though she was quick to laugh. ‘Perhaps you are better off with a mistress. I don't suppose it matters how many times
she
makes you smile, since smiling is not the purpose of the association.'

It was an outrageous remark for an unmarried girl to make even to her older brother, but to be made within hearing of a gentleman with whom she had no acquaintance at all was as grievous a social error as a young lady could commit. Robert glanced at the darkly handsome gentleman standing at the bottom of the steps and realised his sister had just committed an unforgivable
faux-pas
in front of Antoine Vallois.

‘Oh, dear,' Jane said, clearly not sure whether to laugh or to beg an apology. ‘That was extremely bad timing. I hope, sir, that you will forgive my unfortunate choice of words. My poor brother is used to such outbursts, but I fear the general public is not.'

The gentleman walked slowly towards the carriage. ‘Perhaps I should claim not to have heard the remark,
mademoiselle.
That would, I expect, be the more gentlemanly thing to do.' He looked at Robert and nodded. ‘We meet again, Mr Silverton.'

‘Mr Vallois,' Robert said, his voice clipped. ‘Allow me to introduce my sister, Jane. And while I should offer
an apology for what she just said, I doubt she would thank me for doing so.'

‘I most certainly would not,' Jane said tartly. ‘Pray do not fear that I am always so outspoken, Mr Vallois, but Robert and I were discussing the importance of a smile in the early stages of courtship. I took leave to disagree with him in the way brothers and sisters so often do.'

The gentleman inclined his head. ‘I understand perfectly. I'm sure Sophie has often despaired of me in such a way.'

‘I have never despaired of you, Antoine. If anything, it is the other way around.'

Drawn by the sound of her voice, Robert glanced up to see Miss Vallois standing in the doorway. She looked radiant in a pale blue gown, her silvery blond hair tucked up under a fetching straw bonnet, her blue eyes bright with anticipation. She looked as fresh and as appealing as spring itself, but with a sensuality that seemed strangely at odds with her innocence. Robert found it a very disturbing combination. ‘Good afternoon, Miss Vallois.'

‘Mr Silverton.'

‘
Bonjour
, dear Miss Vallois!' Jane cried. ‘Haven't we a splendid afternoon for our drive?'

‘We have indeed,' Miss Vallois said as she approached the carriage. ‘And what a fine pair of horses you drive, Mr Silverton. So perfectly matched, even to the flash of white on their faces.'

‘Robert is most particular about his cattle,' Jane said. ‘Aren't you, Robert?'

‘No more so than any other gentleman.' Robert
jumped down from the seat. ‘A well-matched pair is always to be preferred.'

‘In horses and in marriage, I dare say,' Jane said. ‘Which means I must marry a lame man. Isn't that so, Mr Vallois?'

His reaction was one of mild confusion. ‘I cannot imagine why you would think so, Miss Silverton. You must marry as your heart dictates.'

‘Ah, but my heart is not free to choose. Were I to fall in love with a prince, I should expect to be disappointed, for he would not turn a kindly eye towards me,' Jane said, her unaffected smile stealing the gravity from her words. ‘Like Mr Oberon, he would wish his lady to be perfect in all ways.'

‘Then I could only think the prince, like Mr Oberon, a fool,' Mr Vallois replied quietly.

Robert was astonished to see his unflappable sister momentarily at a loss for words, but the lapse was brief and, quickly recovering, she patted the vacant seat beside her. ‘How droll you are,
monsieur
. I insist you come and sit next to me. It will give me an opportunity to show you that I am not as gauche as you must surely believe me to be.'

The gentleman inclined his head. ‘It would be my pleasure to sit beside you,
mademoiselle
, but I will not be joining you this afternoon.'

‘Why ever not? Surely your sister told you that you were included in the invitation.'

‘I did,' Miss Vallois said, ‘but unbeknownst to me, Antoine and Lord Longworth had already made other plans.'

‘Quel dommage.'
Jane studied Mr Vallois thoughtfully for a moment. ‘I understand you are not staying
long in London. I would regret not having an opportunity to show you that there is a more refined side to my nature.'

‘I have no doubt you possess as refined a nature as any other young lady, Miss Silverton.'

‘But she does smile a great deal more,' Robert said drily. ‘Though whether that is to recommend her, I cannot say.'

‘I would consider it a recommendation,' Mr Vallois said. Then, speaking quietly in rapid French, he added,
‘Qu'est-ce qui est plus doux que le sourire d'une belle dame?'

Robert watched his sister's cheeks go bright pink and turned to glare at Antoine. ‘Forgive me, sir, but if you wish to converse with my sister, I would ask that you do so in English.'

‘But he said nothing impertinent, Robert.' Jane's smile was as bright as a new penny. ‘In fact, I do believe it is one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me.
Merci beaucoup, Monsieur Vallois.
'

‘De rien.'
Mr Vallois held her gaze a moment longer before addressing Robert. ‘Please accept my apology, Mr Silverton. It was not my intention to offend. Only to express an opinion that a beautiful lady's smile is truly a lovely thing to behold.' He touched the brim of his hat. ‘Enjoy your afternoon.'

Robert stiffly inclined his head. He knew his feelings of resentment towards the French were not shared by his sister, but the strength of his conviction was such that he could not be happy about seeing her offered a compliment by one, especially one as handsome as Antoine Vallois. A man she barely knew, but who had the ability to make her blush. Damn his charming ways.

‘Mr Silverton?'

And now the sister sought to distract him. He turned to see her watching him with those perceptive blue eyes, the question on her face a direct result of the confrontation that had just taken place. Had she guessed at the nature of his thoughts? Figured out that his hostility towards her brother stemmed from a natural antipathy towards her countrymen? Judging from the way her smile dimmed as he handed her into the carriage, she knew something was amiss. But he wasn't about to let it trouble him. For Jane's sake, he would be pleasant, but that was all. He wasn't looking for a wife and he certainly had no intention of making the exquisite Miss Vallois his mistress.

She had made it perfectly clear at the Black Swan Inn that she'd prefer the company of the
horses
rather than have anything to do with him.

 

Sophie knew they weren't off to a promising start. After settling her in the seat beside his sister, Mr Silverton had climbed back into the driver's seat, picked up the reins and set the team off without a word. It wasn't that he was rude, simply that he was distant. And whether
that
was a result of the stilted conversation he'd just had with Antoine, or of
her
unwelcome presence in the carriage, Sophie had no idea. All she knew was that the tension was as sharp as a finely honed blade—and that it cut with equal facility.

Fortunately, Miss Silverton, with her delightful sense of humour, tried to lighten the mood by alternately paying her brother no mind, or teasing him to distraction. ‘I keep telling Robert that he needs to get on with his life before he becomes a doddering old fool
no woman is interested in,' she confided as they drove through the gates into the Park, ‘but he refuses to listen. He simply tells me I must find a husband and settle down. But really, Miss Vallois, at eight-and-twenty, what gentleman is going to look at me with marriage in mind? I do not have sufficient wealth to make up for the loss of my youth or agility—'

‘Jane—'

‘And now he is going to scold me for having suggested that my handicap stands in the way of my making a good marriage. He believes it does not, but you and I know better.'

‘On the contrary,' Sophie said, ‘I watched you at the ball last evening and though you did not dance, you got around very well in all other respects.'

‘There, you see, Jane,' Mr Silverton said over his shoulder. ‘Miss Vallois has not known you above a day, yet she is already of the opinion that your leg is not the handicap you claim it to be.'

‘I wonder.' Miss Silverton sent a sidelong glance at Sophie. ‘What would your brother say about my handicap, Miss Vallois? He is studying to be a doctor, after all, and is likely to be less emotional about such things.'

‘I would venture to say it is the
last
thing Antoine would concern himself with,' Sophie said without hesitation. ‘He is far more interested in how people think than with their physical appearance.'

‘In which case, he and Oberon have absolutely nothing in common,' Mr Silverton muttered.

‘Apart from their looks, for Mr Vallois is certainly as handsome as Mr Oberon,' Miss Silverton said, though she was careful to maintain the correct degree
of indifference. ‘He must be very popular with the ladies in Paris.'

‘Perhaps, though none seem to have made a lasting impression.' Then, refusing to be ignored by Mr Silverton any longer, Sophie said in a voice loud enough for him to hear, ‘Like your brother, Antoine is far more concerned with my well-being than he is with his own.'

She saw his back stiffen, but he did not turn around. ‘I am adequately concerned with my own well-being, Miss Vallois. It simply takes less looking after than Jane's.'

‘No doubt because you are a man and men are so much more self-sufficient than women.'

There was a brief but significant pause. ‘Are you trying to provoke me?'

‘Yes, I suppose I am,' Sophie said calmly. ‘But not unkindly, I hope.'

‘That depends. You should be aware that I give as good as I get.'

‘Then I shall consider myself warned,' Sophie said, settling back against the cushions with a smile of satisfaction. Well, it was a start. His posture seemed slightly less rigid than it had been when they'd started out, and his tone was a fraction less chilly. If it was an unguarded moment, she hoped there could be more. Miss Silverton, who was blissfully unaware of the milestone, said, ‘It must be the way of older brothers to think of everyone else before themselves. It certainly makes sisters seem a great deal of bother.'

Mr Silverton glanced back at her, and Sophie was surprised to see that he could actually smile. ‘You are not a bother, as well you know.'

‘Yes, but I do enjoy teasing you. Do you tease your brother in such a way, Miss Vallois?'

‘Whenever I get the chance.' Sophie turned her head, her eyes narrowing slightly as she gazed across the field. ‘Is that Mr Oberon I see riding towards us?'

‘It would appear so.' Mr Silverton sounded less than pleased. ‘I wondered if he might turn up this after noon.'

‘He rides a magnificent horse.'

‘Magnificent he may be, but you would do well to keep your distance. That beast is hellfire on four legs.'

Sure enough, a few minutes later, the peer's son brought the showy black stallion to a prancing, snorting halt in front of them. ‘Afternoon, all,' he called in greeting. ‘What a glorious day.'

‘Oberon,' Mr Silverton said, reluctantly bringing the carriage to a halt.

‘Silver. Miss Silverton. And Miss Vallois. What a delightful surprise.'

‘Surely not that much of a surprise, sir,' Sophie said sweetly. ‘You were there when I informed Mr Silverton of my intention to join him and Miss Silverton this afternoon.'

‘True, but in a city as large as London, there are so many other places you could have gone.'

The stallion suddenly shied and Mr Oberon made a great show of restraining him.

‘Oh, Robert, isn't he splendid,' Miss Silverton said softly.

Sophie knew Jane was referring to the horse, but Mr Oberon chose to take the remark as a compliment to himself. ‘Thank you, Miss Silverton. Years of experience allow a man a certain ease in the saddle.' He
smiled broadly, white teeth flashing. ‘What about it, Silver—care to take a turn?'

Mr Silverton's smile was coolly dismissive. ‘Thank you, no.'

‘Rather wait for the pleasure of ownership, eh?' Mr Oberon winked. ‘I understand. But we've yet to see how that game plays out. Miss Vallois, I hope we will have the pleasure of your company at Lady White's this evening.'