‘Mr Silverton.’
‘Bonjour, dear Miss Vallois!’ Jane cried. ‘Haven’t we a splendid afternoon for our drive?’
‘We have indeed,’ Miss Vallois said as she approached the carriage. ‘And what a fine pair of horses you drive, Mr Silverton. So perfectly matched, even to the flash of white on their faces.’
‘Robert is most particular about his cattle,’ Jane said. ‘Aren’t you, Robert?’
‘No more so than any other gentleman.’ Robert jumped down from the seat. ‘A well-matched pair is always to be preferred.’
‘In horses and in marriage, I dare say,’ Jane said. ‘Which means I must marry a lame man. Isn’t that so, Mr Vallois?’
His reaction was one of mild confusion. ‘I cannot imagine why you would think so, Miss Silverton. You must marry as your heart dictates.’
‘Ah, but my heart is not free to choose. Were I to fall in love with a prince, I should expect to be disappointed, for he would not turn a kindly eye towards me,’ Jane said, her unaffected smile stealing the gravity from her words. ‘Like Mr Oberon, he would wish his lady to be perfect in all ways.’
‘Then I could only think the prince, like Mr Oberon, a fool,’ Mr Vallois replied quietly.
Robert was astonished to see his unflappable sister momentarily at a loss for words, but the lapse was brief and, quickly recovering, she patted the vacant seat beside her. ‘How droll you are, monsieur. I insist you come and sit next to me. It will give me an opportunity to show you that I am not as gauche as you must surely believe me to be.’
The gentleman inclined his head. ‘It would be my pleasure to sit beside you, mademoiselle, but I will not be joining you this afternoon.’
‘Why ever not? Surely your sister told you that you were included in the invitation.’
‘I did,’ Miss Vallois said, ‘but unbeknownst to me, Antoine and Lord Longworth had already made other plans.’
‘Quel dommage.’ Jane studied Mr Vallois thoughtfully for a moment. ‘I understand you are not staying long in London. I would regret not having an opportunity to show you that there is a more refined side to my nature.’
‘I have no doubt you possess as refined a nature as any other young lady, Miss Silverton.’
‘But she does smile a great deal more,’ Robert said drily. ‘Though whether that is to recommend her, I cannot say.’
‘I would consider it a recommendation,’ Mr Vallois said. Then, speaking quietly in rapid French, he added, ‘Qu’est-ce qui est plus doux que le sourire d’une belle dame?’
Robert watched his sister’s cheeks go bright pink and turned to glare at Antoine. ‘Forgive me, sir, but if you wish to converse with my sister, I would ask that you do so in English.’
‘But he said nothing impertinent, Robert.’ Jane’s smile was as bright as a new penny. ‘In fact, I do believe it is one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me. Merci beaucoup, Monsieur Vallois.’
‘De rien.’ Mr Vallois held her gaze a moment longer before addressing Robert. ‘Please accept my apology, Mr Silverton. It was not my intention to offend. Only to express an opinion that a beautiful lady’s smile is truly a lovely thing to behold.’ He touched the brim of his hat. ‘Enjoy your afternoon.’
Robert stiffly inclined his head. He knew his feelings of resentment towards the French were not shared by his sister, but the strength of his conviction was such that he could not be happy about seeing her offered a compliment by one, especially one as handsome as Antoine Vallois. A man she barely knew, but who had the ability to make her blush. Damn his charming ways.
‘Mr Silverton?’
And now the sister sought to distract him. He turned to see her watching him with those perceptive blue eyes, the question on her face a direct result of the confrontation that had just taken place. Had she guessed at the nature of his thoughts? Figured out that his hostility towards her brother stemmed from a natural antipathy towards her countrymen? Judging from the way her smile dimmed as he handed her into the carriage, she knew something was amiss. But he wasn’t about to let it trouble him. For Jane’s sake, he would be pleasant, but that was all. He wasn’t looking for a wife and he certainly had no intention of making the exquisite Miss Vallois his mistress.
She had made it perfectly clear at the Black Swan Inn that she’d prefer the company of the horses rather than have anything to do with him.
Sophie knew they weren’t off to a promising start. After settling her in the seat beside his sister, Mr Silverton had climbed back into the driver’s seat, picked up the reins and set the team off without a word. It wasn’t that he was rude, simply that he was distant. And whether that was a result of the stilted conversation he’d just had with Antoine, or of her unwelcome presence in the carriage, Sophie had no idea. All she knew was that the tension was as sharp as a finely honed blade—and that it cut with equal facility.
Fortunately, Miss Silverton, with her delightful sense of humour, tried to lighten the mood by alternately paying her brother no mind, or teasing him to distraction. ‘I keep telling Robert that he needs to get on with his life before he becomes a doddering old fool no woman is interested in,’ she confided as they drove through the gates into the Park, ‘but he refuses to listen. He simply tells me I must find a husband and settle down. But really, Miss Vallois, at eight-and-twenty, what gentleman is going to look at me with marriage in mind? I do not have sufficient wealth to make up for the loss of my youth or agility—’
‘Jane—’
‘And now he is going to scold me for having suggested that my handicap stands in the way of my making a good marriage. He believes it does not, but you and I know better.’
‘On the contrary,’ Sophie said, ‘I watched you at the ball last evening and though you did not dance, you got around very well in all other respects.’
‘There, you see, Jane,’ Mr Silverton said over his shoulder. ‘Miss Vallois has not known you above a day, yet she is already of the opinion that your leg is not the handicap you claim it to be.’
‘I wonder.’ Miss Silverton sent a sidelong glance at Sophie. ‘What would your brother say about my handicap, Miss Vallois? He is studying to be a doctor, after all, and is likely to be less emotional about such things.’
‘I would venture to say it is the last thing Antoine would concern himself with,’ Sophie said without hesitation. ‘He is far more interested in how people think than with their physical appearance.’
‘In which case, he and Oberon have absolutely nothing in common,’ Mr Silverton muttered.
‘Apart from their looks, for Mr Vallois is certainly as handsome as Mr Oberon,’ Miss Silverton said, though she was careful to maintain the correct degree of indifference. ‘He must be very popular with the ladies in Paris.’
‘Perhaps, though none seem to have made a lasting impression.’ Then, refusing to be ignored by Mr Silverton any longer, Sophie said in a voice loud enough for him to hear, ‘Like your brother, Antoine is far more concerned with my well-being than he is with his own.’
She saw his back stiffen, but he did not turn around. ‘I am adequately concerned with my own well-being, Miss Vallois. It simply takes less looking after than Jane’s.’
‘No doubt because you are a man and men are so much more self-sufficient than women.’
There was a brief but significant pause. ‘Are you trying to provoke me?’
‘Yes, I suppose I am,’ Sophie said calmly. ‘But not unkindly, I hope.’
‘That depends. You should be aware that I give as good as I get.’
‘Then I shall consider myself warned,’ Sophie said, settling back against the cushions with a smile of satisfaction. Well, it was a start. His posture seemed slightly less rigid than it had been when they’d started out, and his tone was a fraction less chilly. If it was an unguarded moment, she hoped there could be more. Miss Silverton, who was blissfully unaware of the milestone, said, ‘It must be the way of older brothers to think of everyone else before themselves. It certainly m
akes sisters seem a great deal of bother.’
Mr Silverton glanced back at her, and Sophie was surprised to see that he could actually smile. ‘You are not a bother, as well you know.’
‘Yes, but I do enjoy teasing you. Do you tease your brother in such a way, Miss Vallois?’
‘Whenever I get the chance.’ Sophie turned her head, her eyes narrowing slightly as she gazed across the field. ‘Is that Mr Oberon I see riding towards us?’
‘It would appear so.’ Mr Silverton sounded less than pleased. ‘I wondered if he might turn up this after noon.’
‘He rides a magnificent horse.’
‘Magnificent he may be, but you would do well to keep your distance. That beast is hellfire on four legs.’
Sure enough, a few minutes later, the peer’s son brought the showy black stallion to a prancing, snorting halt in front of them. ‘Afternoon, all,’ he called in greeting. ‘What a glorious day.’
‘Oberon,’ Mr Silverton said, reluctantly bringing the carriage to a halt.
‘Silver. Miss Silverton. And Miss Vallois. What a delightful surprise.’
‘Surely not that much of a surprise, sir,’ Sophie said sweetly. ‘You were there when I informed Mr Silverton of my intention to join him and Miss Silverton this afternoon.’
‘True, but in a city as large as London, there are so many other places you could have gone.’
The stallion suddenly shied and Mr Oberon made a great show of restraining him.
‘Oh, Robert, isn’t he splendid,’ Miss Silverton said softly.
Sophie knew Jane was referring to the horse, but Mr Oberon chose to take the remark as a compliment to himself. ‘Thank you, Miss Silverton. Years of experience allow a man a certain ease in the saddle.’ He smiled broadly, white teeth flashing. ‘What about it, Silver—care to take a turn?’
Mr Silverton’s smile was coolly dismissive. ‘Thank you, no.’
‘Rather wait for the pleasure of ownership, eh?’ Mr Oberon winked. ‘I understand. But we’ve yet to see how that game plays out. Miss Vallois, I hope we will have the pleasure of your company at Lady White’s this evening.’
It was the first Sophie had heard of it. ‘I don’t know. Lady Longworth has made no mention of it.’
‘Oh, but you must come,’ Miss Silverton implored. ‘An evening spent with Lady White is a treat unto itself. Robert and I are going. You and your brother really should join us.’
‘Lady Longworth may already have made other plans.’
‘Cancel them,’ Mr Oberon said. ‘I guarantee you’ll have a better time with us.’
Sophie glanced up into the man’s impossibly beautiful face and found herself resenting both his high-handed assumption that she would naturally fall in with his plans and his belief that an outing of his choosing would be more enjoyable than one of Lavinia’s. She almost hoped Lavinia had made other arrangements. ‘I shall enquire upon returning home, Mr Oberon. If we are free, I may mention it to Lady Longworth.’
‘I can ask no more than that. And now, I must be off. Like the god, Thunder grows impatient if forced to stand in one place too long.’ As if to prove it, the stallion reared up, its powerful front legs slicing the air, his high, shrill whinny echoing through the park.
‘Easy, boy,’ Mr Oberon said, bringing him back under control. ‘Wouldn’t want to alarm the ladies.’ He touched the brim of his hat to Mr Silverton and his sister, then smiled affectionately at Sophie, his eyes lingering on her longer than was necessary or appropriate.
Sophie turned away. Odious man. What a shame that one so blessed in appearance should be so lacking in humility. For all his chilly reserve, she much preferred Robert Silverton’s quiet manners to Mr Oberon’s smug arrogance…
‘What are you thinking, Miss Vallois?’ Mr Silverton enquired as the other man trotted away. ‘You suddenly look far too serious for such a lovely afternoon.’
‘Only that certain gentlemen have been given so much, yet appear to do so little good with it.’
‘Oh, but that’s splendid!’ Miss Silverton said, clapping her hands. ‘I do believe you have just given Monty a set-down and he would be devastated to hear it, knowing how taken he is with you.’
‘Nonsense, we are barely acquainted,’ Sophie said, uncomfortably aware of Mr Silverton’s gaze on her. ‘Besides, he is far too flamboyant for my liking.’
‘But he is rich,’ Miss Silverton said. ‘And his country estate is said to rival Chatsworth for opulence. You could do much worse.’
‘Leave the poor girl alone, Jane,’ her brother said. ‘Or she will regret having agreed to come out with us.’
‘She will not resent me for telling her the facts. The more she knows before having to make the decision, the better off she will be.’
‘The decision?’ Sophie asked.
‘As to whom you will marry, of course. What other decision of importance is there for a single lady of marriageable age?’
‘I can think of several,’ Sophie said, less than pleased with the direction the conversation was taking. ‘Fortunately, the choice of a husband will not be one of them.’
Miss Silverton gave a soft laugh. ‘Do tell! Are you already engaged to a handsome young gentleman in Paris?’
‘I am not, nor have I any desire to be. I’ve already told Lord and Lady Longworth that I have no intention of marrying.’
The remark must have been more outrageous than Sophie thought. Miss Silverton’s mouth fell open and her brother actually turned around on the seat to stare at her. ‘No intention of marrying?’
‘But…what will you do?’ his sister asked. ‘Marriage is the only viable option to ladies of good birth.’
To ladies of good birth. What would they say, Sophie wondered, if they knew the truth of hers? ‘I like to think there are many other things a lady might do. Fly over London in a hot-air balloon, for example. Or travel to Egypt on a camel to explore the pyramids. Float down the Amazon in a boat. When you think about it, the possibilities are endless.’
‘For a man, perhaps,’ Mr Silverton observed. ‘Not for a woman.’
‘But do you not wish to fall in love, Miss Vallois?’ Miss Silverton asked.
‘Not particularly.’ Sophie thought about the men she had met in the course of her life. All of them had let her down in one way or another. ‘Only think how disastrous it would be to fall in love with someone like…Mr Oberon.’
‘I’m not sure a woman can fall in love with a man like that,’ Mr Silverton said. ‘He will always be the more demanding of the couple, and if the lady is like the rest of her sex, she will be far more interested in receiving love than in giving it.’
Had he intended it as a slight? Sophie wondered. Or was he simply expressing his opinion that, on the whole, women tended to be the more selfish creatures? ‘I take leave to disagree with you, Mr Silverton. Women are capable of both giving and receiving love, oftimes at their own expense. A mother will always sacrifice much for her child, whereas a man will often take his pleasures at the expense of the family.’
He directed a glance over his shoulder. ‘Your remark leads me to believe that you do not hold men in high esteem.’
‘Only in as much as your remark leads me to believe that you hold women in contempt. Not all women are self-serving.’
‘Then you have the pleasure of knowing better women than I.’
Wondering if he was thinking of the woman who was to have been his wife, Sophie said, ‘Perhaps you expect too much of the ladies with whom you keep company.’
‘If honesty is too much to expect, then I must enter a guilty plea,’ he said. ‘As for being single past my sister’s expectations, she neglected to mention that our family circumstances have been such that neither of us has been free to mingle in society these past few years.’
‘Indeed we have not,’ Miss Silverton said, a cloud settling on her pretty features. ‘First Michael was killed in France, then Papa died under the most tragic of circumstances, and not a twelvemonth later, we lost Mam
a as well. How can anyone think of love when grief is so fresh upon the heart?’
‘Perhaps it is in the finding of love that the pain of grief eases,’ Sophie said gently. ‘One cannot suffer from two such strong emotions at the same time.’
‘I wish that were the case, Miss Vallois,’ Mr Silverton said. ‘But I have learned that a person can suffer more than one painful emotion at a time and feel them both with equal strength.’
‘Love cannot exist in the presence of hate, Mr Silverton,’ she told him.
‘But hate can raise its ugly head when love is threatened or destroyed.’ He turned to look at her, and for a moment, it was as though there were only the two of them. ‘Of that, Miss Vallois,’ he said, ‘I am entirely certain.’
To Sophie’s relief, the rest of the carriage ride proceeded with all felicity and it concluded with the parties being in relatively good spirits. Miss Silverton had begged Sophie to call her Jane, and said how much she was looking forward to seeing Sophie and her brother at Lady White’s for cards that evening.
Fortunately, upon arriving home, Sophie discovered that no plans had been made for the evening, and when she put forward the idea of attending a soirée at Lady White’s, Lavinia declared that she could not think of a more entertaining way to pass a few hours.
‘Lady White is, of course, the very essence of eccentricity,’ Lavinia said, as the two sat in Sophie’s bedroom going through her wardrobe to see what she might wear. ‘Her husband died six years ago and left her a very wealthy widow.’ She pulled out two gowns and laid them on the bed. ‘She must be in her mid-sixties now, but she still rides to hounds every year. Strange. I don’t remember ordering this peacock-blue silk from Madame Delors.’
Sophie glanced up. ‘You didn’t. I made it and brought it with me.’
‘You made this?’ Lavinia took a closer look. ‘But…this is exquisite, Sophie. The gathering along here and the beadwork down the front is quite remarkable. And the fabric is exceptional—and very expensive.’
Courting Miss Vallois Page 7
