Tainted Bride (3 page)

A weak grin touched Elinor’s lips, but a tear escaped down her cheek.

“Shall we take a turn in the garden while my aunt and your mother chat?” Sophia asked.

Elinor nodded and blubbered an explanation of where they were going. They rushed out of the room before her tears flowed uncontrollably.

The gardens were a bit unkempt, comforting, compared to the tailored gardens outside her new window at Collington House. They found a small bench. Elinor drooped down and wept into her hands. Golden ringlets bounced around her face as she shook.

Sophia patted Elinor’s back. Crying wouldn’t help the situation. “That will do, Miss Burkenstock.”

“You should call me Elinor, if we are to be friends.” Elinor gasped between sobs.

“Wonderful and you will call me Sophia. I understand you have had a difficult few days, but you can’t sob the rest of your life away because some libertine stole a kiss.”

Elinor blushed and turned her chin down toward her shoulder. “He did not exactly steal it.”

“Oh? You like Mr. Rollins, then?”

Elinor sighed. “He is so beautiful and charming and he dances like a dream. Mother said to forget him, since his father squandered all their money, but I just thought to have one real kiss before I found a suitable husband.”

“Do you have a dowry?”

Elinor sniffed and wiped her tears. “Yes. Why do you ask?”

“Do you think, perhaps, he is merely a fortune hunter?”

Elinor looked into the trees, as if this were the first time she’d considered the possibility. “I do not care. He has land and if he needs money, then why should he not marry into it? Women go about marrying for money and position all the time and no one faults them for it. For that matter, so do a lot of men. Perhaps he has a mind to build up his family fortune again? After all, it is not his fault his father was irresponsible.”

“Perhaps he has a mind to gamble, drink and who knows what else,” Sophia said.

Elinor frowned. “I wish I knew which it was. Then, perhaps, I may convince my father to let me marry Michael. I do not wish to be a fool in front of all of London.”

Few fools worried about appearing foolish. Sophia liked her honesty in spite of all the dramatic weeping and fretting.

A young woman about Sophia’s age stood a few feet away listening to the conversation. She swept amber-gold hair off her brow. Intelligent green eyes didn’t blink as she stared back at Sophia.

Elinor jumped up, threw herself into the girl’s arms and began howling all over again.

Sophia sighed and stood. “I had just gotten her to stop.”

She half-smiled as she patted Elinor’s back. “Stop crying, dear. It will all be fine. Introduce me to your friend.”

Elinor straightened and wiped her face. “Oh goodness, you must think me the worst hostess.”

“Not at all.”

“Lady Dorothea Flammel, Miss Sophia Braighton from America.”

They both curtsied, dipping their heads slightly.

Dorothea glared. “When did you arrive in London, Miss Braighton?”

“Yesterday morning.”

“And how do you know Miss Burkenstock?” She smoothed her impeccable skirt.

“We have just met. You must have seen my aunt, the Dowager Countess of Grafton when you arrived.”

“Indeed.” She stood like a statue looking down her pretty nose at Sophia. “What brings you out today? You must be quite exhausted after your journey. Where did you say you were from, Australia?”

Elinor gasped.

“America, as I’m sure you heard a moment ago. May I ask you a question, Lady Dorothea?”

She nodded and waves of golden hair bobbed gently as if commanded to before settling back into a perfect frame for her heart-shaped face.

Elinor looked from one to the other with a mix of wonder and anxiety.

If Sophia had not been so focused on Lady Dorothea, she would have laughed. “Are you intentionally being rude because you are worried that I mean Miss Burkenstock ill will, or is this your normal disposition?”

“Would it make a difference?” The amusement in Dorothea’s eyes didn’t reach her lips.

“Of course it makes a difference.” Sophia needed to make acquaintances, though she hoped she would find a friend or two. She’d found a friend and an adversary. Not a bad morning. London would be a forlorn place if she were friendless at every ball and picnic. “If your rudeness is only to protect Miss Burkenstock, then I’ll make every effort to prove to you I mean no harm. I saw the article in the paper this morning, as I’m sure you did and I felt Miss Burkenstock needed a friend. I spoke to my aunt, who told me she was a fine young lady and my aunt agreed to show her support.”

“My goodness, that is so kind of you.” Elinor’s tears flowed again.

Sophia and Lady Dorothea continued to meet each other’s gazes.

Sophia pretended there was a spec on her white gloves. “However, if this level of rudeness is how you normally go through your day, then I have no time or desire to get to know you better. Therefore, I’ll hereafter ignore you to the best of my ability.”

“My, but you do make speeches, Miss Braighton.” Dorothea smiled. “I think we shall attempt a friendship, if that would suit you. You are the first interesting person I have met in an age. I would be pleased if you would call me Dory.”

“Thank you, Dory. I’m Sophia.”

“Oh, thank heaven that is over.” Elinor took a dramatic breath. “Now, what are we to do about my reputation? After all, I’m the one who is ruined.”

“Indeed.” Dory nodded. “Tell us exactly what happened, Elinor.”

Her fair skin turned bright pink, but she spoke excitedly, as if she’d waited a lifetime to tell someone her news. “Well, Michael and I danced at the Addison ball two nights ago. Actually, we danced twice. I would have danced with him a third time—he is such a wonderful dancer and so nice to look at—but mother forbid it. It was quite hot in the ballroom and he asked me if I would like to go out on the veranda.” Elinor’s eyes glazed over with the memory of a man who had destroyed her chances of making a good match.

Sophia forced herself not to scoff aloud.

“Of course, I agreed. It was stifling hot and I was feeling a bit overwhelmed by his closeness. I thought some air might be just the thing. But, when we reached the veranda, Michael said it was too crowded and there was no place for us to talk and wouldn’t I like to have some quiet?”

Dory smoothed the already crisp skirt of her morning dress. “I’m surprised you would have agreed to this, Elinor.”

“I knew I should have said no, but his eyes were so warm and sweet. He really seemed to like me and I like him so much.” She wrapped her arms around her middle and watched a butterfly settle on a pink rose. “We found a small parlor, which was empty. When he took me in his arms, I just couldn’t bring myself to push him away. In truth, I did not want to. We kissed and it was as if my entire world had been whittled down to that moment in time.” She flung her hands up. “Then, that awful woman came in. She smirked at us and left without a word.”

Sophia didn’t understand how anyone could want to be that far out of control. Anger over being caught by Lady Pemberhamble, she understood. The part about not wanting him to stop and the world shrinking, bah, what bunk.

“What did Mr. Rollins do then?” Dory swatted at a mosquito.

“He kissed my nose and told me not to worry. He said everything would be all right and I should trust him. Then he brought me back to my mother.”

“Perhaps he intends to offer for you,” Dory said.

New, louder sobs erupted from Elinor. “He left town. He sent a note and left town.”

How such a grating sound emerged from such a pretty girl, was a mystery. “Stop crying!” Dory and Sophia said in unison. Suppressing giggles, they grinned at each other.

Dory rolled her eyes and pulled a handkerchief from her reticule. She handed it to Elinor who blew her nose loudly. “What did the note say, Elinor?”

“It said, ‘I must leave London for a while. Trust me, Michael.’” She wept louder. “But, how can I trust him? Why did he leave town? What am I to do?”

Dory stood and put her hands on her hips. “First, you will stop this crying, as it is beginning to try my nerves. I know you like him, but he has little means, according to the gossip, so he is not really a good match. However, you have money, so it might work. The fact that he has left town puts you in an awkward position. Since we do not know his intentions, we shall proceed to repair your reputation without regard to Sir Michael Rollins. Are you attending the Watlington ball?”

Elinor gaped.

Sophia covered a giggle with a cough.

“I…I was supposed to, but now mother thinks it’s best if we do not go out in society. I’m…to…be put on the…shelf.” She gasped around her sobs, before screaming with renewed tears.

Resisting the urge to throttle her, Sophia patted Elinor’s hand. “You’ll not be put on a shelf, dear. You can’t stay in this townhouse indefinitely. That will only confirm what the paper reported. I’ll ask my aunt if we can attend the Watlington ball and you will convince your mother you should also attend. Then we’ll begin to repair the damage.”

Dory nodded and the three rejoined the women in the red parlor.

* * * *

Wednesday, they attended a picnic in the park. Aunt Daphne introduced Sophia to a dozen people they met in a grassy space near the Serpentine. A gentleman with dark red hair, which beamed in the sunshine, approached her.

She steadied her nerves.

His sea-blue eyes and engaging smile warmed her skin more than she liked. However, as hard as she tried she didn’t recall his name. She prayed she would be able to carry on the conversation long enough someone would say it and save her an awkward moment.

“Would you like a glass of wine, Miss Braighton?” His grin made her smile back.

Of course he remembered her name, he only had one new name to memorize. She could just ask him for his name, but then everyone would know what a dolt she was. “No thank you, sir. I do not take wine.”

“No? How very odd.”

“Is it?”

“Most young women are quite anxious for wine rather than lemonade.” He poured himself a glass of dark burgundy.

Sophia shrugged. “My mother is Italian, so wine was always on the table. I never acquired a taste for it. My mother would say—” She dropped her voice, softened her vowels, and rolled her tongue, creating a heavy Italian accent. “Bella, everyone drinks wine. It is good for the heart. Try it. Try it. You will learn to like it.”

Lady Collington nearly smiled. “That is a very good imitation, Sophia. For a moment I thought your mother had joined us.”

In a deep English accent, Sophia said, “Leave her be. It is no crime to be sober, at least not in America.” Oh, how she missed Papa’s warm smile and sage advice.

“Your father to a tee.” Daphne clapped her hands and laughed.

Her admirer beamed at her. His teeth were white and straight and he never took his gaze off her. “Can you impersonate only family members, Miss Braighton?”

She returned to her own voice. “Anyone whom I have heard speak.”

Everyone turned toward her. She mimicked the German lady from the market and then Miss Mirabelle from her charm school. She demonstrated some other people from Philadelphia, whom she imitated well and everyone clapped.

“That’s very good. Can you try someone we all know, your aunt for example?”

“People are often not fond of being mimicked.” The idea of insulting anyone made her want to run and hide. She would be in real trouble if she alienated Aunt Daphne. Just get through the season without any scandal.

Daphne waved her gloved hand. “Go ahead, niece. I can take it.”

Sophia sat flagpole straight on the blanket. She pursed her lips, pulled her shoulders back and clasped her hands. “Firstly, it is never proper to go into society before ten in the morning. I cannot countenance why anyone would wish to step out of doors before that hour.”

Lady Collington hadn’t said those exact words, but the tone, accent and vocal similarity was good and everyone applauded, including the subject of her impersonation.

“However did you learn such a thing?” he asked.

She shrugged and spoke in a facsimile of his voice. “It’s something I have always excelled at.” In her own, she said, “A silly game to amuse my brother.”

“It is very amusing. Would you care to walk with me down to the river, Miss Braighton?”

She looked at Aunt Daphne, who nodded. “Thank you, I would like that.” The butterflies returned. For the life of her, she still didn’t remember his name. As they walked, she reviewed the earlier introductions and it was as if a blanket were drawn over her memory.

He waited until they were out of earshot of the picnickers. “May I ask you a question, Miss Braighton?”

“I believe you just have.”

“I supposed that is true. Another, then?”

She nodded, but gazed at the water and prayed for divine intervention.

“Do you have any idea what my name is?”

She spun toward him. Her heart leaped in her throat and she tried, but was unable to find words to respond.

He gently pushed her chin up closing her gaping mouth.

“I…I’m sorry. I cannot remember the names of anyone I met today. The introductions were made so fast. I was nervous and didn’t pay close enough attention.” She continued to ramble.

He offered his hand. “Shall we start again?”

She smiled and took his hand.

“Miss, may I present myself to you? I’m Thomas Wheel.” He bowed deeply and formally removing his hat and sweeping it to the side.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wheel. I’m Sophia Braighton. I hope we shall be great friends.” She curtsied so low he might have been a duke rather than a rich gentleman.

“I suspect we shall be friends, Miss Braighton.”

They continued their walk along the Serpentine.

“Did you know all along that I didn’t remember your name, Mr. Wheel?”

“I must admit, I suspected it from the first. Beside your gift for impersonation, you also have a gift for showing everything you feel in your expression. You are quite easy to read. I advise you never take up gambling.”

She turned her head away. “Most wouldn’t consider that a gift. It’s more a curse, to have the entire world know what I’m thinking.”