The Husband Season (16 page)

Sophie stared at her. ‘Whatever made you say that?’

‘I see it in his eyes, in the way he looks at you, in his concern for you, in the way he flaps his arms about as if he would put them round you and knows he must not. Would a man who is not in love chase all over town at the dead of night to make you feel a little easier?’

‘Oh, Aunt, you must be mistaken. He has said he will not marry again, but I think Cassie expects to change his mind for him.’

‘And you have said you will not be a second wife, so what is either statement to the point when two hearts beat for each other?’

‘What do you know of my heart?’

Her aunt laughed. ‘You are wearing it on your sleeve.’

Was it that obvious? Had he noticed it? Had Cassie? Oh, she felt like running away and hiding, which was probably what Teddy had done. But there was nowhere to run to, except home. Oh, how she longed to be safe at Greystone Manor, safe in the bosom of her family. She went to the morning room and sat down at her aunt’s escritoire to write to Jane.

* * *

The day of Cassie’s ball arrived and they still had no news of Teddy. Jane had written that he was not at home and she had no idea where he might be. ‘I have said nothing to Mama and Papa,’ she had written. ‘But if he doesn’t turn up soon, they will have to be told.’ She was obviously concerned and Sophie was sorry she had worried her.

Adam had called several times, only to bring disappointing news. He gave no sign that he thought of her in any way other than a friend. He continued the search because he had said he would, but he must be thoroughly tired of her and her troublesome brother by now. And Cassie, who had called the day before to discuss the last arrangements for what promised to be the event of the Season, was happily convinced that he would offer for her that very night and mark the occasion with the gift of a horse. If that happened she would have to be happy for her, but it was not going to be easy.

It was with great reluctance she went up to her room to change into her finery. Bessie was there to help her, but she could hardly rouse any enthusiasm, being almost as worried Sophie was. ‘He is like a naughty schoolboy,’ she told Sophie. ‘Always wants his own way and sulks when he cannot have it.’

‘Bessie, that is unfair. If you had seen how contrite and sorry he was...’

‘Sorry butters no parsnips.’

Sophie, standing in her petticoat waiting for her blue gown to be put over her head, could not even smile at this. She had had such high hopes when she left Hadlea, as excited as a schoolgirl. She was going to have a Season, to be the belle of all the balls, to find a loving husband who fulfilled all her criteria. How foolish she had been! How much the child. She had done a great deal of growing up in the short time since she’d left home. She was no longer the child; her illusions had been shattered by reality. Love, real love, found its own way and sometimes it was not returned. Hearts could not be dictated to.

The gown slipped down over her shapely figure and fell in soft folds to her feet. It seemed an age since she had been boasting of it to Cassie. It didn’t seem to matter anymore. Life was not about expensive gowns and fripperies; life was what you made of it and she had made a mull of everything. If she could go back in time to the beginning of May, would she still plead to be brought to London? If she had not come, would she still have met Viscount Kimberley? Would she now be breaking her heart over him?

‘It looks lovely.’ Bessie’s voice broke in on her thoughts. ‘Jane has done a superb job, but you really must try to look a little more cheerful. Anyone would think you were going to a funeral, not a ball.’

Sophie turned towards the mirror and studied her reflection. Her cheeks were devoid of colour and her eyes had lost their brightness. Even her hair looked dull. But the dress was lovely. It had a boat-shaped neckline and puffed sleeves. A fichu of the paler blue lace was intended to fill in the neckline that would otherwise leave her shoulders bare. The bodice fitted her exactly. The skirt, falling from a high waist, was tiered, each tier threaded with silver ribbon. The hem was looped up with more ribbon and revealed an underskirt of the same pale lace as the fichu.

‘Sophie, you must pull yourself together if you are going to pull this off tonight,’ Bessie said, taking a hairbrush and pulling it through Sophie’s tresses.

‘Pull what off?’

‘Outshining the other young ladies.’

‘Am I meant to do that?’

‘Yes. You have to convince everyone there is nothing wrong, that you are as bright and sparkling as you have always been. For your pride’s sake, if nothing else.’ She finished coiling Sophie’s hair into ringlets and began threading it with silver ribbon to match the dress. ‘Otherwise you might as well be wearing white and hiding yourself behind your aunt, waiting for someone to take pity on you.’

‘I don’t want anyone’s pity.’ It was said with some feeling, but she remembered Jane cautioning her about too much pride. Had she brought this misery on herself, laying down her requirements for a husband? And then behaving like a hoyden because she didn’t want anyone to know how unsure of herself she felt?

‘No, I didn’t think you did. Shall we try a little make-up, just to put some colour in your cheeks? Pinching them will not be enough.’

‘Very well, but please, not too much.’

By the time Bessie had finished, Sophie was looking more her old self. ‘There! That’s not too much, is it?’

‘No. You are very clever.’

‘I have sometimes needed to help your mother in that way.’

‘But you have spilled a little powder on the lace.’ She pulled the fichu off and examined it. Brushing it with her hand only made it worse.

Bessie took it from her. ‘Oh, dear, you should have worn a cape. I’ll try to clean it off.’

‘No, don’t bother. If I am going to shock everyone I might as well do it properly.’

‘Sophie!’

‘It was you who said I had to sparkle.’

‘I didn’t mean... Oh, well, your necklace will fill in the neck a little, and you can pull the sleeves up onto your shoulders.’

The necklace, that was it! She touched it as Bessie fastened it round her neck. Mark would never give Jane paste jewels, so it might be worth something. She could sell it and repay the viscount and there would be no need to marry any of her erstwhile suitors. She suddenly felt much more cheerful. And if Teddy turned up safe and well, everything would come about. Except for her love for Viscount Kimberley. She would have to remove her heart from her sleeve and bury it away from sight.

She slipped into her shoes, donned a fine silk shawl and hung her reticule on her wrist. ‘I am ready,’ she said, and went down to join her aunt, who was clad in burgundy satin and a matching turban, to wait for the carriage to be brought round.

* * *

Mr and Mrs Malthouse, together with Cassie, stood at the head of the stairs to greet their guests as they arrived. Cassie was in a demure white silk gown embroidered with dainty pastel-coloured flowers. Ribbons of matching colours encircled the high waist and finished in a large bow at the back. She came forward to kiss Sophie when she arrived.

‘You look lovely,’ Sophie told her.

‘And so do you. I didn’t think you would dare wear that gown.’

‘Why not? I said I would.’

‘They are all here, you know.’

‘Who?’

‘Sir Reginald, Mr Fanshawe and Lord Gorange, all dressed to kill.’

‘Oh, no, why did you invite them?’

‘Why not? I want you to be as happy as I am tonight. You must surely choose one of them.’

‘Why? I have said I will not.’

‘Sophie, let us move on,’ her aunt said, accepting Sophie’s dance card from a footman who had a pile of them in his hand and handing it to Sophie. ‘We are holding up those behind us.’

They moved into the ballroom, standing just inside to get their bearings and find a place to sit.

Mr and Mrs Malthouse had not spared any expense. The ballroom consisted of two reception rooms normally joined by an archway and wooden partitions. The partitions had been removed to make one very large room. The carpets and all the furniture, except chairs arranged round the perimeter for the chaperones, had been removed and the floor polished until it gleamed. A dais had been erected at one end on which a full orchestra played. There were swathes of glittering material hung between the long windows and stands of exotic flowers everywhere. And it seemed half the
beau monde
was there.

Sophie, not unaware of the stares of the young men and the disapproval of the matrons, stood up straight and smiled. No one, tonight, was going to guess that inside she was nursing a broken heart.

Lady Cartrose spotted Lord and Lady Martindale and swept off to join them. Sophie followed. Lucy was in a country dance set partnered by Vincent. Sophie did not have time to sit down before her swains were upon her.

Reggie reached her first. Apart from a white shirt, he was dressed all in green, even down to his cravat. ‘Miss Cavenhurst, may I have the honour of the next dance?’

Silently she handed him her dance card. He wrote his name and gave it back, then stood aside to allow Richard, in a black suit relieved by a white waistcoat and cravat, to ask for a dance and put his name on her card. They were followed by Lord Gorange, dressed in old-fashioned breeches, stockings and buckled shoes. Then all three stood beside her waiting for the dance then in progress to finish.

‘Tell me, gentlemen,’ she said. ‘Why do you all go about together? I never see one of you but the others are in attendance.’

‘Well, I for one cannot allow the other two to steal a march on me,’ Reggie said. ‘I was the first to ask you for your hand and...’

She laughed aloud, attracting those nearby to look round at her and make tutting noises at her behaviour. ‘So it’s first come first served, is it?’

‘No, it is not.’ Lord Gorange was the one to answer. ‘There are other considerations. What I have to offer...’

‘Is a dead wife’s shoes and two motherless children,’ she finished for him.

‘That is not all, it is far from all,’ he said, miffed. ‘You would want for nothing if you became the second Lady Gorange.’

‘And what about you, Mr Fanshawe?’ she asked sweetly.

‘It goes without saying you would want for nothing. I have a town house and a country estate, both of which are in superb condition, which you would see if you would only consent to visit them. I have never been married and do not have children, at least, not that I know of. You would not be burdened by past encumbrances.’

‘That is a consideration,’ she murmured. ‘But not the only one.’

‘Dash it, Sophie, how can you say that?’ Reggie put in. ‘I have known you since we were children and I have always adored you. Teddy knows that.’

‘What has Teddy to do with it?’ she asked, looking from one to the other. They were all looking sheepish.

‘Nothing,’ they murmured.

She had been right when she said something smoky was going on, she decided. ‘Do you know where he is?’ she asked.

‘No,’ Reggie said. ‘But it is strange that Viscount Kimberley asked the same question a few days ago. And come to think of it, I haven’t seen Teddy for nearly a week.’

‘He said he would keep out of it,’ Richard said.

‘Keep out of what?’ she demanded.

‘Helping you to choose between us,’ Lord Gorange put in quickly. ‘He did not want to influence you.’

‘He wouldn’t do that, in any case. I make up my own mind.’

‘And have you?’ Reggie asked eagerly.

‘Will you not take no for an answer?’

‘Not the first time, nor the second.’

‘Nor the third, fourth or fifth,’ Gorange put in.

‘Not until the end of the month,’ Richard added.

The other two looked fiercely at him, and Sophie was constrained to ask. ‘Why the end of the month?’

‘It is a goal I have set myself. After that...’ He shrugged.

‘Oh, dear—’ she sighed, teasing them ‘—what
am
I to do?’

The dance ended and everyone began to drift back to their places on the sidelines. Vincent escorted Lucy back to her mother and, having done so, claimed a dance from Sophie, writing his name on her card twice. This prompted the others to take back the card and put their names against a second dance. She was beginning to wonder if she would have any left for Adam when he came. But perhaps it was just as well if she were to keep up the pretence of not having a care in the world. If she stood up with him, she would give herself away.

‘Is Teddy not with you?’ Lucy asked. ‘Where is he?’

‘I don’t know, but I have just learned he is making himself scarce in order not to influence my admirers into persuading me to accept one of them.’

‘That is silly.’

‘Yes, it is. Very silly.’

‘He promised me he would be here tonight. I have kept two dances for him. I would have made it more, but Mama says until our engagement is officially announced, two is the most allowed.’

‘Perhaps he will turn up later.’

‘I hope he does. The whole evening will be spoilt if he does not.’

* * *

The whole evening was already spoilt for Sophie, though she continued to talk and laugh and dance. She kept glancing at the door, hoping to see Adam come through it but, though others came and went, he did not appear. He had said he would come, so where was he? Surely he was not still searching for Teddy himself. He had Mr Farley doing that for him now. She wanted to tell him what Richard Fanshawe had said about why her brother was keeping out of the way. It could be true, but why hadn’t Teddy told her so? She would have assured him it was not necessary; she was not about to change her mind. He had said, ‘Good’ when she’d last told him that. Nothing made sense.

The supper interval came and went and Mr Malthouse made a short speech welcoming everyone and praising his daughter for being all things a good daughter should be. If he had hoped it might be a betrothal announcement, he gave no hint of it, and begged everyone to continue to enjoy themselves. Sophie found herself standing next to Cassie.

‘Where is Viscount Kimberley?’ her friend demanded in a whisper.

‘I have no idea. I am not his keeper.’