Three Original Ladies 02 - Lord Trowbridge’s Angel (16 page)

If you will send me the revised date for your musicale, I will be there. I would not miss it for the world.

As a token of faith in our future, I will advise my estate manager to refurbish your intended rooms at Hanford House. I will send you some patterns to pick from. Would you do me the favor of telling me what colors would suit you best? That would be a happy chore for me.

“And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,

So soft, so calm yet eloquent,

The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below

A heart whose love is innocent!”

—Byron

Let the great poet speak for me.
I love cheek, brow, smiles, goodness, and innocence of my dear love, Sophie, my angel.

Yours from forever through forever,

Frank.

Next, he wrote a note to Lady Melissa, telling her that he wished to take her to the park in his curricle at five o’clock. He sent both letters with his footman for quick delivery.

~
~*

Frank’s design in taking Lady Melissa up in his curricle was to have private conversation with her which would have been impossible in her house. As she sat next to him, he headed his team through the crowd at Hyde Park and finally halted them by the Serpentine.

“Lady Melissa, we must put our heads together. I am going to ask you a personal question. I apologize, but it is truly necessary. Is there no one you have a partiality for that would be delighted to take my place as your groom?”

His companion bit her lip and threw him a glance. In her look, he was surprised to read guilt. Was Sophie right? Did she have a
tendre
for him? In spite of the fact that Sophie was her best friend, was she secretly hoping no solution would be found and they would have to marry? What a facer!

“I have not been on the town long enough to attract that sort of devotion, Lord Trowbridge. I know you better than anyone else.”

“And you know, no one better, how much I love Sophie.”

“Of course I do.”

“I have been thinking that perhaps your brother and I might come up with a plan.”

“Donald is not blessed with a brain, unfortunately.”

“He does like to gamble, however.”

“Yes?”

“I might be of assistance to him.”

“Do not encourage him, my lord.”

“I must beg of you, my lady, to remember that things are not always what they seem.”

When he set Lady Melissa down in front of her house, he asked, “Is Lord Donald about? I would have a word with him.”

“I will inquire.”

They entered the townhouse and Melissa sent her butler to locate her brother. When he appeared, eyes alight and hand extended in welcome, Frank said, “How about joining me for dinner at Brook’s tomorrow night?”

“I’d be honored, my lord.”

They settled on eight o’clock, and Frank took his leave.

{ 25 }

SOPHIE WOKE LATE
with a weight on her chest, though it took her a moment to recall what had caused it. Memory flooded in much too fast. Dragging herself from bed, she rang for Sally and thought how best to distract herself. Possibly, they could resume rehearsals today, if the Carstairs were amenable. Then she remembered her half-hatched plan.

Sally arrived with a bouquet of mixed roses, a card, and a letter. Seeing Frank’s hand on the envelope containing the letter, she opened it while telling Sally that she would wear her powder blue muslin.

The letter caused her some tears. How were they to get out of this tangle? Poor Melissa. Sophie knew that this marriage would be welcome to her under other circumstances. Who would not be at least a little in love with Frank?

Slitting open the note, she was surprised to find that the flowers were not from Frank, but rather from Lord Shrewsbury, with “the greatest admiration.” She had not thought of this complication. Now that Frank was supposedly out of her life, Shrewsbury seemed to be renewing his suit. Bother! Under other circumstances, she might have liked the baron very well, but to her mind and heart, he could not compare with Frank.

Staring in her mirror, she laughed at herself. Lord Trowbridge and Lord Shrewsbury were both extraordinary men. Had she really been some sort of angel, flown in from Derbyshire, watching the men from above before she ever met them, she would have thought both men to be wildly beyond her touch. Not only were they uncommonly handsome, but they were both exceedingly interesting gentlemen. Frank and she were in tune to a greater extent, and she was devoted to him in a way she never could have previously understood. He had opened new worlds of understanding. It was almost as though the grass was greener, the sky was bluer because of Frank. But what if she had known Shrewsbury first? It was surely very ungallant of her to brush him off as an unwanted suitor. Perhaps they could be good friends.

While she was finishing her breakfast, she received the news that Peter was awaiting her in the morning room. She dreaded facing him.

His heavy eyebrows drawn into a frown, her brother-in-law greeted her. “This is a proper mess, and no mistake, Sophie. That devil Kent. I am sorry for all three of you.”

“Thank you for your support, Peter. I did not expect it.”

His frown cleared and he took her hand in his. “Frank has explained the whole of it to me,” he reassured her. “Now, Elise and I think with all the gossip surrounding the engagement that it would be wise of you to be out of town for a few days. I came to invite you, if you are truly restored in health, to go with us and Lord Shrewsbury on a little journey of discovery. We are looking for an ideal place for this orphanage for girls.”

Sophie said, “Oh dear. I would like to be with you and Elise, but Shrewsbury wants to press his suit. I received roses from him this morning. And there are the rehearsals for my concert which must be resumed.”

Peter frowned. “Shrewsbury, eh? Well, my dear, it would not hurt to have an extra string to your bow, so to speak.”

“Peter! How fickle you must think me! I love Frank. More than a little. I am devoted to him.”

“I promise you that we will not leave you and the baron alone together,” Peter said. “But he has a right to participate in the business since it was originally his idea.”

“How long would we be gone?” Sophie asked.

“Four to five days. We are looking for a place where the girls can be brought up to a trade as well.”

“What direction are we going?”

“Towards Chipping Camden in Gloucestershire where they have the wool trade, I think. It is not far from London and has supplied many good jobs for the Duke of Beverley’s orphans.”

“Actually, it will be quite splendid to get back to the country,” Sophie said, looking outside at the sooty gloom of a cloudy morning. “It would raise my spirits. But I ought not to go. The rehearsals …”

“Have you set a new date?”

“Not yet.”

“There is no reason why you cannot get away, then. London is not the best place to heal from an inflammation of the lungs. Elise and I will both feel better if you get out into the country.”

“It does sound lovely. Thank you both for thinking of me.”

“We will leave in the morning, then. We are taking the family traveling carriage. The children are staying behind with their nurse.”

{ 26 }

RESTLESS, FRANK DECIDED
to go to the club for dinner. Shrewsbury beckoned to him when he entered the dining room. Joining his friend at his table, he said, “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to take a lovely young woman off my hands, would you?”

“Inasmuch as Miss Edwards is already off your hands, you must be referring to the Lady Melissa. Sorry, friend, she is indeed lovely, but a bit light-minded, I fear. Not to my taste.”

“I really did not compromise her, you know. She is virtuous still.” Frank poured himself a glass of claret from his friend’s bottle. When the waiter drew near, he ordered venison, roasted potatoes, and peas, with apple tart and cream to follow.

“What do you think?” he asked his friend. “Is the food really better at White’s?”

“Possibly. If you can stomach the Tories.”

“There is one Whig I wish to avoid.”

“Lady Melissa’s overweening Papa?”

“Yes,” Frank said and drained his glass. “He has put this whole thing in train, and I simply cannot marry his daughter. Sophie has my heart, and I fear she always will.”

Shrewsbury was silent as he sliced his lamb chop.

“How is your liaison with lovely Lila proceeding?” Frank asked.

“I have come to the conclusion that the women in my life prefer their men dark.”

“Dark as in devilish?”

“No. As in complexion. Lila is obsessed with you. We have parted ways.”

Frank grew uncomfortable. Shrewsbury had said “women.” Sophie was the only woman in his life. He was right, then. His friend had a
tendre
for his angel. How painful.

Rather than letting the silence stretch out, he asked, “And how does the great scheme progress with the orphan girls?”

“Ruisdell and I go to the country tomorrow to search out possible sites for the orphanage. That seems to be the way the wind is blowing. Hopefully, we can find a place not too far from London where they can be brought up to a trade, as well as taught to read.” He paused as the waiter brought Frank’s dinner. When the man had gone, he proceeded. “You might as well know, Miss Edwards goes with us, as does the duchess. They think getting out of London for a few days will aid Miss Edwards’ convalescence.”

Frank stirred uneasily. He no longer had an appetite for the dinner before him. Did Sophie know that Shrewsbury was to accompany her party? The idea of the two of them being on an outing together that consisted of a “few days” disturbed him more than he would ever admit. He had scarcely spent that much time with Sophie himself.

The fact was that Shrewsbury was devilishly attractive. The present situation was the first time in their friendship when Frank had had the upper hand as far as women were concerned. He had never been particularly bothered by it, as his interest in women had never taken a serious turn. But Shrewsbury had had a number of serious affairs of the heart that he had chosen to end at the point where the lady involved was expecting a declaration. He was, in a word, a heartbreaker.

This had never troubled Frank before. But in spite of her pledges to him, what if Sophie were to fall for Shrewsbury? And what if he were to casually break her heart? A surge of protectiveness overtook him. The woman he loved thought she knew her own mind, but she was actually quite naïve. He must warn her. He must go to her again tonight.

“Something troubles you, Frank?” his almost lifelong friend asked.

“Don’t break her heart. Don’t even think of it.”

His friend smiled his attractive smile. “What makes you think I would do something like that?”

“History.”

Frank rose, his dinner uneaten, and strode to the reading room. He ordered brandy, took a cigar from the case, and seized a sporting periodical. He must bide his time until midnight, when he would sneak into the Deal mansion again.

~
~*

At last, the hour came. He walked briskly from Brook’s to Sophie’s home. There appeared to be several candles alight in her bedroom. A warmth came into Frank’s chest in anticipation of seeing his beloved. Even if Shrewsbury weren’t accompanying her, he would have come for a good-bye kiss. They had never been parted before.

Why was he acting like a school boy? Where was his
sang froid,
his breezy manner? When had he become so
earnest?

Devil take it! The window was locked! He tried all the others, but someone had locked up the house tight as a drum. It was too late for a letter. Sitting on a stone bench in the garden, Frank simmered in frustration.

{ 27 }

SOPHIE STAYED CLOTHED
in the evening gown she had worn to dinner, hoping that Frank would visit her again. Packed and ready to go on the morrow, she stared out her bedroom window, but clouds covered the moon and she could see very little.

After an interminable wait, she heard midnight strike on the clock in the hall. Sophie struggled out of her gown, hung it up, and plaited her hair. Possibly Lila was importuning him again. Or maybe Frank was at a card party at the Kents,’ partnering Melissa. He did not even know she was leaving in the morning.

Sitting down at her desk, Sophie dismissed any unworthy thoughts, choosing instead to show a little faith and write him a letter of farewell.

My Dear Frank,

I am leaving town for a few days to help Peter and Lord Shrewsbury try to locate a property for the Girls’ Orphanage. Elise and Fanny feel that country air is the prescription that is needed to complete my recovery. It is difficult to breathe in this sooty London air. I keep coughing.

I have been reluctant to discuss it, but I believe Melissa to have a bit of a
tendre
for you. Try to be kind to Melissa.

I shall miss you.

Faithfully,

S.

~
~*

When the carriage arrived to take up Sophie, Lord Shrewsbury helped her climb up the steps and take her seat. Fortunately, she was seated next to Elise. There was a tension in Shrewsbury that reminded her of a large cat, possibly a tiger, ready to spring.

After greetings were exchanged, Sophie asked, “How far are we going today?”

“Actually, we have a surprise in store for you, Sophie,” Peter said. “We are going to spend the night at Hanford House, Frank’s property in Charlbury, which is close to Oxford. You will be able to see the house and grounds, and then tomorrow we will start the day with a tour of the University.”

“How interesting,” Sophie said, her heart leaping at the mention of Hanford House. Maybe she would even be able to have a look at the suite of rooms Frank was having redecorated for her. This was an unlooked-for pleasure. “I will enjoy both those things very much. Frank’s college was Balliol. Did you attend Oxford, Lord Shrewsbury?”