‘I think I would be more likely to swear if anyone attempted to rub it upon any part of my anatomy.’
Harriet giggled.
‘M-my m-m-mama says l-l-lemons and b-b-brandy help,’ offered Lieutenant Madeley.
Sophy could not keep the tremor from her lip. Lord Rothley’s eyed her with the deepest suspicion.
‘It is very noble of you to have kept our … appointment, Lord Rothley.’
‘Ma’am, for you, even my health is worth risking,’ he responded instantly, and she blushed. He looked to the cavalrymen, whose mounts were by now a little on the fret. ‘Do we delay you? Your horses look as though they were expecting better exercise.’
The young officers knew when they were being dismissed. Lord Rothley smiled, not unkindly, and asked that his best wishes be passed to Lord Kesgrave. Susan cast him a look of reproach as they made their excuses and rode on.
‘Nice enough youths, but sadly, tongues wag at young ladies who are under the escort of blades in scarlet coats.’ He was looking at Susan, but then turned to Sophy. ‘I thought perhaps you would be better without them.’
‘Hence the lie.’
‘The er,ruse de guerre, Lady Sophy,ruse de guerre.’
‘The problem I see is that you took it upon yourself to decide what we should or should not be seen doing, sir. Indeed, is it better that we are seen with you?’ Sophy looked quizzically at him.
He was not quite certain that she was in jest.
‘I believe so, ma’am, for there are three of you and I am but making light conversation.’
‘And the officers were not?’ Susan was not appeased.
‘No, they looked very much as if they were too struck by your charms to do more than make cakes of themselves, Miss Tyneham.’
‘And you will not, my lord?’
‘No, I will not.’
‘I cannot resist a challenge,’ she murmured, almost to herself.
Sophy closed her eyes and winced. When she opened them, she added a groan for good measure. Tooling a pair of matched if rather showy chestnuts towards them was Lord Tyneham, and his expression was frosty. He drew up, and acknowledged Rothley with the barest civility.
‘I had not expected to find you riding unescorted, Cousin Sophronia.’
‘Alas, I am as a wraith, invisible,’ sighed Lord Rothley, ‘or is it that you think they need an escort to protect them from me, Tyneham?’ The question was direct, and the smooth voice had an edge to it.
‘You are the very last man with whom I would wish them to associate.’ Tyneham rose to the challenge.
‘I am?’
For one moment Lord Tyneham stared at him in disbelief, and then he coloured to the roots of his hair. Sophy, looking from one to the other, was totally mystified. Lord Rothley was clearly perplexed, and her cousin acutely embarrassed. There was an exchange of glances, one which warned and one which questioned. Lord Rothley had a slight frown, no longer of confusion, but of displeasure, almost anger.
‘Whilst your views must weigh in your sister’s case, cousin, I do not see that you have any right to decide with whom I might associate.’
‘That, madam, is because you are a member of the more delicate and indeed frailer sex, to whom not everything need be explained.’
‘Rot,’ declared Susan.
Her brother cast her a look of loathing, and continued. ‘By which I mean that there are some things to which it is both unnecessary and undesirable that you be privy. You cannot therefore make an informed decision.’
Sophy wondered why Lord Rothley was now so silent, as if struggling with some inner problem.
‘You mean that since I am to be left ignorant I cannot do so. That is most unfair.’