Lady Wyndholme’s enthusiasm was infectious and Harry could not have refused even if he wanted to. ‘I shall be delighted, Lady Wyndholme,’ he replied cheerfully. He looked across to Sophie and she frowned at him but he thought he noticed the glimmer of a smile behind those impish blue eyes.
His gaze was interrupted by Daniel touching his arm. ‘Now you have finished your tea, sir, can we begin my fencing lesson?’
Harry stood up. ‘Of course, Daniel and is Lady Trevarren joining us?’
Sophie stood up and smoothed down her skirt. ‘Certainly,’ she replied. ‘I would not miss this for the world and maybe you can teach me a thing or two.’
Harry gave a broad grin. He could teach her a thing or two alright but his mind was not on fencing. He merely bowed. ‘I endeavour to please, Lady Trevarren. Lead the way.’
The three trooped out of the room and when they had left Lady Wyndholme turned to her husband smiling. ‘I think there may be a wedding by the end of the year. Do you not think so, Jack?’
The Baron looked up from his nearly empty tea cup and winked. ‘You are a wicked matchmaker, Caroline. We shall just have to wait and see. ’
Harry was taken to an upper room which doubled up as a small ballroom where the Wyndholme’s did their entertaining. Daniel had cleared the room and had the foils ready.
The lesson began and Harry found that Daniel was not the novice he had thought him. His father had taught him much but all the same, he was young and still had a lot to learn. They had sparred for an hour when Harry called a halt to the lesson. ‘I think that is enough for today, young cub. Perhaps you can run and get us a glass of lemonade.’ He winked. ‘And Daniel, take your time.’
Daniel grinned and ran off and Harry turned to Sophie. He threw her a foil, which she caught with practised expertise. She flicked it through the air testing the feel of it. ‘I do not think you will find me so easy a touch as Danny,’ she said nonchalantly. ‘I have had a foil in my hand since I was five.’
‘Have you indeed,’ he replied. ‘Your father must have been a very liberal and unconventional man.’
‘Oh, he was and he taught me well,’ she said as she positioned herself to face him. ‘That is why I loved him so. He always maintained that a lady should learn to defend herself.’
Harry grinned. ‘You forget, my lady rogue that we have fought before and as I seem to remember, I won. It was your little brother that saved your hide.’
Sophie bit her lip in vexation and stood En Guarde ready to engage. ‘Maybe, this time, you will not be so lucky, my Lord.’
Harry bowed and stood likewise to face her. He knew her swordsmanship was next to none and he could not afford to take her for granted but he also knew that he had the upper hand. She was agile but she would never be able to match his power.
He advanced with an attack and smiled. ‘If I win, will you marry me?’ he asked playfully.
She parried. ‘You only give me the incentive to fight harder, my Lord,’ she replied wickedly.
Harry looked comically doleful. ‘If you win I will be sorely dejected. You may have to marry me to save me from the depths of despair.’
‘Oh, you are impossible,’ she replied as she lunged at him. ‘I am still angry with you for your deception. Daniel has been avoiding you for days now and all for nothing. You could have told us you knew it all along. We have been living forever on a knife edge. At least it seems that way.’
Harry retreated. ‘How can you be angry with me when your deception was much worse than mine? You have dual standards, my lady rogue. I would have you know that waylaying strangers on country paths is not very ladylike, even if the lady in question felt well justified.’
‘Duel standards? That is a man’s annoying trait, surely,’ she retorted.
They continued to thrust and parry until Harry managed to slip under her guard and touch her shoulder with his foil. ‘Ouch, you are wounded, my lady. Can I kiss it better?’ he asked with a roguish grin.
Sophie smiled enigmatically and answered him with a simple action. ‘En Guarde,’ she said as she resumed the starting position.
Harry obeyed and resumed the bout. ‘The first point to me, don’t you think?’ he said impishly. ‘If that was a real wound you would be done for,’ my lady rogue.
Sophie maintained her serious mien. ‘I am hampered by my skirts,’ she complained. ‘I admit you have the advantage there.’
Harry’s mind wandered back to that moonlight night. Ah yes, his lady rogue wore breeches and charming she was too. Sophie was a vision then as well, even if her face was covered with a black scarf. But he remembered those wonderful blue eyes, the curve of her waist that her mannish shirt did not quite hide, and the soft curve of her derriere. How she had expected to be taken for a man, he did not know. His mind had wandered and he was only brought to reality when she executed a vigorous assault and the tip of her foil met the wall of his chest.’
‘I may be wounded,’ she laughed, ‘but you are now most certainly dead.’
‘I was not concentrating.’ He grinned sheepishly. ‘You fought well, Sophie.’
Sophie frowned. Her victory had been swift and he had accepted his defeat with good humour. She began to doubt. She could hardly imagine it, but Harry must have fought far more arduous battles in Portugal. Had he let her win?
She pushed him on the shoulder in exasperation. ‘You let down your guard on purpose,’ she said accusingly.
He lay down his foil and held up his hands in defeat. ‘No, No, honestly I did not,’ he assured her. ‘My mind wandered and I had a sudden vision of you in breeches, my lady rogue.’ He laughed and grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward him. ‘Now I know why they do not allow women on the battlefield. I would have been killed a thousand times over. My pride is wounded, Sophie and I need consoling. You will have to marry me now.’
‘Now you jest,’ she laughed as he put his hand around her waist and drew her closer to him. He bent over and kissed the side of her neck whispering in her ear. ‘Have you forgiven me then, Sophie? I do not jest. Can I ask your uncle if I can make my addresses?’
‘Oh yes,’ she whispered as she arched to allow him access. He feathered kisses down the soft skin of her neck and across her collarbone and then made his way up to the sensual curve of her lips. Sophie’s heart missed a beat as he deepened the kiss and she was totally lost to him. The intense feeling of desire made her feel weak, and she could have sworn that if he was not holding her up she would have crumpled to the floor.
‘Lemonade!’ The moment was destroyed as the door opened and Daniel burst in carrying a tray with a decanter of cool lemonade and glasses. Harry stepped back and cursed under his breath and Sophie stood disconcerted and flushed like a woman who had been thoroughly kissed. Daniel was a delightful youth but at this moment, Harry could have wrung his neck.
Harry broke the awkward moment as he stepped forward and took the tray from him. ‘Thank you, Daniel. We were not expecting you back so soon.’
Daniel, who already viewed the Colonel as a brother was quite confident that he would do what was right and decided to ignore what he saw. He grinned. ‘So I see. I am glad that you are friends again.’
Harry smiled at Daniel. He knew that the boy was not green enough to misconstrue what he had seen. It was the second time Daniel had caught him kissing his sister. The boy was only approaching thirteen but under the circumstances, he decided to dignify him with an explanation. He handed them both a glass of lemonade and raised his own. ‘You may congratulate us, Daniel. Sophie has agreed to marry me but you must keep it to yourself. I have yet to make a formal request to your uncle but I cannot see it being a problem.’
Daniel’s eyes widened in excitement. In his view, Sophie could do no better. The Colonel, in his eyes, was bang up to the knocker, a regular Corinthian, someone he could look up to. Admittedly, he had his Uncle Jack and Cousin Sebastian but Uncle Jack was so laid back. If he was not riding to his hounds, he had his head in a book or a newspaper
, and as for Sebastian, he was never at home.
Daniel was aware of the honour that had been bestowed upon him. ‘Oh, I will, sir. I will not tell a soul until it is official.’ He looked across at his sister who was smiling. ‘Oh, jolly good, Fee. It is about time you came to your senses. The Colonel here is just what you need to curb your wild ways.’
Harry grinned. ‘I have no desire to curb her wild ways. Sophie is perfect just the way she is,’ he replied, laughing.
Daniel pulled a face. ‘Urgh,’ he uttered aloud in disgust. ‘Well I will leave you two alone a little longer,’ and with those words he skipped off.
Harry turned back to Sophie and grinned. ‘I should not have said anything before I spoke with your uncle, but I thought I owed the boy an explanation. Your young brother is very committed to safeguarding your interests. I only hope he can keep a confidence.’
‘You can rely on Daniel, Harry. He may be young but he is discretion its own self. He will not say anything.’
‘One thing has come of it,’ Harry replied. ‘Now that Daniel knows you cannot disappoint him. You will have to marry me now.’
He put his arm around her waist and pulled her close. ‘Now where were we,’ he said mischievously. ‘Ah, yes. Kiss me again, Sophie.’
Chapter Twelve
Harry’s interview with Baron Wyndholme could not have gone any better. Uncle Jack gave his wholehearted blessing and when the Colonel had left, Aunt Caroline took all the credit for promoting the match.
Sophie, however, did not see the Colonel for the next few days. Harry was busy helping his brother to sort out his tangled web of affairs and Sophie was busy helping her Aunt prepare for Sebastian’s homecoming party.
Aunt Caroline, who now viewed her party as a double celebration, had finished compiling her list of invitees and sighed. ‘Oh dear, I do not think that Chalcotte Grange has the capacity to entertain so many guests. What am I to do?’
‘Well, you will just have to cut back,’ her husband chuckled from behind his newspaper. He glanced at her list. ‘Is it really necessary to invite Lord and Lady Astley? Really my love, you rarely see them.’
His wife hardly seemed to hear him and put down her quill. ‘Oh dear, there is only one thing for it. We shall have to hire the Newcastle Assembly Rooms!’
This pronouncement was enough to startle the normally imperturbable Baron to attention and he lay down his newspaper in astonishment. The assembly rooms were a lavish venue designed by William Newton and built in 1776. With the exception of Bath, it was said to be the most commodious assembly venue in the country and would be expensive.
‘But dear,’ he objected. ‘The cost!’
‘Oh fiddle de dee,’ she replied. ‘It is not as if were are having to fork out for a London season and it would answer very well. It is not every day that you can welcome a son back from the wars unscathed and see your niece suitably established. The ballroom at the Assembly rooms is nearly one hundred feet long and is just what we need.’
Her husband grunted and reluctantly acquiesced. ‘As you wish dear, but please try not to be too extravagant. I still have the upkeep of my stables and my hounds. They do not pay for themselves you know.’
And so it was that two weeks later, after much planning and activity, the Wyndholme carriage pulled up into the semicircular driveway in front of the colonnade of pillars that adorned the front portico of the Newcastle Assembly Rooms. They arrived in good time to welcome their guests and were shortly joined by Colonel Northcote. In spite of the short notice, most of the invitees had accepted the invitation. It would have been difficult to turn down an invite to such a prestigious venue.
Sophie entered the assembly rooms on the arm of her cousin Sebastian. Sebastian looked very much like his cousin. He was tall with fine shoulders and had an open friendly face. His hair was a slightly darker shade of gold from that of his cousins but his eyes were the same deep blue. An astute observer may have noticed the crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes or the occasional sad smile caused by the experiences of war, but for the most part, Sebastian maintained a cheerful, pleasant countenance.
Sophie looked up in awe and turned to her cousin. ‘Look, Sebastian, have you seen the chandeliers? I have never seen anything like them.’
Seven chandeliers hung from the ceiling, the centrepiece being the most magnificent of all. It consisted of ten thousand pieces of hand cut crystal, cut by the local glass and crystal works in Close Gate.
‘Yes,’ Sebastian agreed. ‘I am told that the centre chandelier alone cost £630.’
The ballroom was awash with light and the musicians were limbering up in the music gallery, and as Sophie glanced across the ballroom floor she spotted Harry. Sebastian took Sophie’s arm and the pair walked across the floor to greet him.
It had been decided that since Lady Wyndholme had gone to so much effort to arrange this lovely ball, they would use the occasion to announce their betrothal. Sebastian took Harry’s hand and shook it vigorously. There was an unspoken bond between the two, a bond forged in childhood but now strengthened by the experiences of battle, and the two greeted each other with warm affection.
Sebastian grinned and patted Harry on the back. ‘I have taken good care of your betrothed for you.’ He handed over his charge. ‘I have got to say, old fellow that I cannot be more pleased than to see you married to Sophie, and will be proud to call you Cuz.’
‘Why thank you, Sebastian. Your mother tells me that you have sold out. Is this true?’
‘Indeed it is, old chap and I am home for good. I have great ideas for the Wyndholme land and my father has agreed to give me free reign, subject to his approval, of course. My father is too indolent to make a push himself, he is far too interested in those damned hounds of his.’
Harry smiled. ‘Yes, your father is rather fond of the hunt but all the same, he keeps his estate in order and he is a good landlord.’
‘This is very true,’ Sebastian agreed, ‘but he does welcome my assistance. I am tired, Harry and need a change. Vittoria finished me off. Five thousand allied dead, followed by looting and pillaging. It was so hard to get a handle on it and I am weary.’
‘’Yes. Wellington was furious.’ Harry replied sympathetically. ‘We must get together sometime and talk about it. It helps to get things off your chest and perhaps you could fill me in about your new ventures. Perhaps we can share ideas. I have been so busy that we have not had opportunity to talk since you arrived home.’ Harry looked across at Sophie. ‘But perhaps now is not the time.’
Sebastian took the hint looking rather sheepish, and Sophie glowered at the two of them. ‘Do not let my presence stop you,’ she said indignantly. She was seething and stalked off in annoyance. The conversation had been enlightening and had given her some insight into the depths of her cousin’s soul. When would they stop treating her like a child? Men were all the same and she began to wonder how she could ever have become engaged to one of them.
Harry rolled his eyes to the glare of the chandeliers and then grinned at Sebastian. ‘I forget that Sophie is an unconventional spirit. I am afraid I am in the doghouse again. I suppose I had better chase after her and beg her forgiveness for being a male, arrogant prig.’
Sebastian just smiled. He knew his cousin of old. If she was a man she would have been labelled a veritable Corinthian. Her personality did not sit well with her gender and he understood why his mother had decided against a London season. His mother claimed that she could not afford it but the truth was that she knew that Sophie would not take with the supercilious ton. To crown it all, she would be labelled an appalling bluestocking and his mother did not want to see Sophie get hurt.
By now many of the guests had arrived and Harry tried to make his way through the crush in Sophie’s wake. He spotted his brother Rupert out of the corner of his eye. The Earl was looking around in uncomfortable silence while his Countess chatted happily to Viscount Ashenden and Mr Featherstone. Harry groaned. He supposed he should greet him.
Having acquired two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter, he approached his brother and drew him aside. He handed him a glass and smiled. ‘Why, Rupert. You look as if you would rather be anywhere but here.’
Rupert took the glass and surveyed the room. ‘Are you surprised? I think most of my adversaries are here. I would prefer not to have come at all, but Cecelia insisted. I really had no excuse to offer her but the truth, and that would not do at all.’
Harry glanced around making a mental note. Yes, Mr Pendlesham, Mr Fairbanks, and Mr Ranleigh were here, along with those infamous participants in that disingenuous card game that had ruined Lord Trevarren. Not that the latter were his enemies but one of them, Viscount Ashenden, had reminded the Earl that should they be exposed, they would hold him responsible, and that threat held any number of sinister connotations. There was no getting away from it, Ashenden, Dereham, Redesdale, and Featherstone were all present.
Harry looked almost apologetic. ‘I am sorry, Rupert but I really have no influence over lady Wyndholme’s choice of guests. You will just have to run the gauntlet of disgruntled gentlemen. You really only have yourself to blame.’
Rupert took a sip of his champagne and looked tentatively around him. ‘I can handle them but I cannot help but wonder if that cad who took a pot shot at us is here. I cannot deal with a devil I do not know.’
Harry smiled at Rupert reassuringly. ‘I would not worry, Rupert. There is nothing much he could do here in this crowd. Put it from your head and enjoy yourself. Anyway, I need to tell you something before it is announced. You are my brother so it is only right that you should know beforehand.’
‘Oh.’
‘We have decided to use the occasion to announce our engagement. I thought I should let you know so it will not come as a shock to you.’
The Earl put on a false smile. Although having assured Harry, he had not been able to induce the Countess to accept Lady Trevarren and the connection would be awkward. He was not too happy with Harry’s choice of bride either but there was little he could do to influence matters. He raised his glass in celebration. ‘Congratulations, brother. I shall let Cecelia know and of course, we both wish you happy.’
Lady Trevarren and the Emerald Brooch: A Regency Romance and Murder Mystery Page 13
