‘You know me well enough to know I don’t believe in being mealy-mouthed.’
‘Do you object to her because of her parentage?’
‘Twenty years ago, I might have done so. Now? Well, one mellows with age.’ Sir Esmond did not think that he had noticed much mellowness about his aunt, but said nothing. ‘She has good enough blood on both sides, even though it was not legally bound. At least she has no smell of the shop about her. Never could abide cits, and that’s a fact. Oh, and if you do manage to tame this termagant, bring her to see me, before I end up in the family vault.’
‘You can be sure I will, ma’am, but I am confident that time is a long way off.’
‘Hmmm.’
CHAPTER TWENTY
Unaware of Susan’s planned elopement, Sophyforesaw her life becoming easier, with the arrival of a letter from her father, announcing that he would be arriving in Hill Street two days hence, ‘to see how well my youngest daughter looks as an affianced woman’. He would be a moral support, but knowledge of her father told Sophy that Papa was not the man to take responsibility for running the family in a social context, or, more accurately, that he would only smile vaguely, tell everyone to enjoy themselves, and bury himself in his club once he found some crony in residence.
Despite this, Sophy felt positively light-hearted. She had missed her father, and, yes, her mind was increasingly full of Lord Rothley. When she took Harriet and Susan to Almack’s that evening, several watchful ladies noticed her looking in far better spirits and looks, and put it down to the relief that Harriet was safely established. It was generally agreed that a severe burden had been placed upon her when Lady Chelmarsh had been forced to retire to the country.
Susan was being, if not pleasant, then less inclined to rebel than usual. When asked why by her suspicious cousin, she smiled and said that she would hate to be kept at home when the military review took place, especially since she had the scarlet jacket all ready to wear for the occasion. She was contented enough to dance with the few partners who presented themselves, disguising her ire at the realisation that her admirers were steadily diminishing in number. She was very slightly surprised that Sir Esmond Fawley solicited her hand for a waltz, because she had never considered him one of her beaux. Perhaps, she thought, he was doing so to make life easier for her cousin Sophy. She almost refused him, just to spite her, but an empty dance card was a thing of shame so …
When Susan departed with Sir Esmond for the first set forming after supper, Lord Rothley appeared at Sophy’s elbow.
‘Behold, you are briefly a free woman. Would you care to dance with me, or shall we sit this one out?’
‘I notice, my lord, that you do not give me the option of not being in your company.’ The tone was severe, but Sophy’s lips twitched.
‘No, I rather thought that to be a clever move.’ He smiled, that slightly wolfish smile that made her tingle, and his eyes danced. He had seen her, seen her looking with a bloom she had lacked for many weeks, and it made him suddenly cast caution to the wind.
‘In that case, I would prefer the second option, sir, since conversation is more constricted when the dance keeps parting one from one’s companion.’
She let him offer her his arm and they made a leisurely progress to where a gilded sofa remained unoccupied, probably, declared Sophy as she sat down upon it, because it was so very uncomfortable.
‘That is to ensure that nobody settles upon it for the entire evening and robs others of the chance to enjoy a tête-à-tête, or to rest bruised toes.’
‘How silly of me, of course.’ Sophy laughed, softly.
He thought how very taking she was when she did so.
‘And since you have not danced this evening, and cannot have bruised toes, we may use it for a tête-à-tête.’
‘May we?’ She coloured very slightly.
‘Yes, I think we might.’ He looked her in the eye, and she felt her heart miss a beat.
‘My father is arriving in two days, from Suffolk, my lord.’ She was not sure how to react to the look upon his face, nor the tone of his voice, and attempted to divert the subject. ‘That gives me both pleasure and relief.’
‘He does? Good, then it will save me posting into East Anglia.’ Lord Rothley had no intention of being diverted at all. Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second. ‘You have no objections, I hope, to me asking his permission to pay my addresses to you?’
Her thoughts whirled. She ought to say it was too soon, that they ought to know one another better, and yet, for all that she had forced herself to believe the worst of this man, she knew in her heart that there was no doubt. After a few moments she had herself under control.
‘No objections, my lord.’ Her cheeks coloured a little more deeply.
‘No, you are too honest to dissimulate and deny truth. It is one of the many things I love about you.’ There was a warmth to his words that, for no logical reason, brought tears to her eyes.
‘Are you so sure? After the way I treated you?’
‘Absolutely. You see, I happen to think that you, the inner you, has always trusted me.’
‘Yes,’ she whispered, ‘it has been most confusing.’
‘It had never occurred to me, before we met, that my name could be my undoing, and it was, so very nearly. My father has had so very much to answer for, as my poor mother would have vouched, but if, through him, I lost you …’ He shook his head.