by Amelia Grey
“Your guardian and I will take care of everything. It’s merely a matter of formality, and we will be betrothed. Now, stop scampering away from me and stand still and let me kiss you again before Miss Shevington returns.”
“I will not allow you to kiss me again,” she said firmly, knowing that if he continued she would have to embarrass him and seek the aid of her aunts to control him.
Winded, Lord Bighampton stopped and held on to the back of the sofa. Sweat beaded his forehead and upper lip. “Stop this nonsense immediately, Miss Hart. I am quite out of breath. You might think it is amusing to lead me on a merry chase, but I do not. Now come let me kiss you.”
“Lord Bighampton, was there something you needed from my niece?”
Sophia let out a sigh of relief. She was never so thankful to hear her aunt June’s cold, judgmental voice.
The earl spun and cleared his throat loudly. He pulled on the hem of his coat and the cuffs of his shirtsleeves before saying, “No, Miss Shevington. I was just telling Miss Hart that it’s time I must be going.”
“Very well,” June said. “I’ll be happy to show you out.”
“Thank you,” he said and tried to pull the lapels of his coat together, but his large girth made that impossible. “Do say hello to Sir Randolph for me, Miss Hart. Tell him I’ll look forward to talking to him soon.”
Sophia refused to answer, and for once her aunt didn’t remind her of her manners.
The earl lifted his chin unusually high and strode out of the drawing room with her aunt on his heels. Sophia wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly chilled. She couldn’t believe she’d actually considered the possibility of making a match with that odious man. She would have to see Sir Randolph as soon as he came in and make sure he knew that she had no designs on Lord Bighampton and he could not be considered an acceptable match for her.
Sophia walked over to the window, brushed the sheer panel aside, and looked out at the hazy afternoon. Lord Bighampton was stomping toward his carriage. That meant she would soon have to make a choice between Lord Hargraves and Lord Snellingly. Neither man excited her senses.
A wave of sadness washed over her. She was caught in a trap of her own doing. The man she wanted was forbidden to her by her vow to her father. She couldn’t break that vow, and she had grave doubts any man would measure up to Matson. She feared the truth was that she had not only given her body to him, but her heart as well.
Mae walked in, carrying a book. “Where’s Lord Bighampton?”
Sophia turned away from the window. “Aunt June is seeing him out.”
“But I have a book of poetry by John Donne for him to read. I have hot tea coming.”
“Mae, where have you been?” June asked sharply as she walked into the drawing room.
Startled by her sister’s accusing tone, Mae stuttered for a moment before saying, “I was getting Lord Bighampton a book to read to Sophia, and I asked Cook to bring hot tea.”
“You left Sophia alone with Lord Bighampton, and he was not being a gentleman.”
“No,” Mae said, looking from Sophia to June. “What are you saying?”
“When I walked in, he was chasing her around the furniture, trying to kiss her!”
Mae looked stricken. “He wouldn’t.”
“He did,” June said. “I saw him. Thankfully, Sophia had the good sense to run from him.”
“Did he hurt you, Sophia?” Mae asked.
Sophia laughed lightly. “Of course not, Aunt Mae. I’m perfectly fine. I am not in the least traumatized by his behavior. Aunt June is making far too much of this. But I do think I will mark him off my list as a possible match.”
“You don’t think you’re being hasty, do you?” Mae asked. “He is so handsome and titled. I don’t think you can hold it against a gentleman for wanting to kiss you. That’s what men do.”
“That’s quite enough about kissing,” June said.
“I agree,” Sophia said. “Now, I know we don’t have another gentleman scheduled to call on me this afternoon, so would one of you mind walking with me in the park? It’s such a lovely day, and I feel the need to be outside for a little while.”
“Of course, dear,” her aunts said in unison.
“Good,” Sophia said. “I’ll go change my dress and get my bonnet and wrap.”
***
Matson sat atop his horse and surveyed St. James’s Park again. The blue sky and warm afternoon had brought many people out to enjoy a stroll or refreshments. He quickly scanned the faces of the people he could see, hoping to catch a glimpse of Sophia. He’d ridden all over the damn park twice, looking for her. He’d told her he rode Dash every afternoon about the same time. Surely she knew he wanted to see her.
Another oath of frustration whispered passed his lips. Except that he hadn’t ridden Dash yesterday or the day before, because he’d spent the entire day at Timsford’s Park, looking for that wretched little thief who had outsmarted him. Matson was determined to recover that brooch for Sophia. He wouldn’t rest until he did. He knew if he could find that brooch for her, the nightmares would leave her again.
Much to his dismay, he’d also missed seeing her at the parties he’d attended the past two nights. There were more than a half dozen parties each evening during the Season. He’d had no luck at trying to guess which one she would attend or at what time she would be there. Given how her aunts hovered over her, he would have thought they would be taking her to the larger parties, but if they had, Matson had missed her.
But this morning Matson woke knowing he couldn’t go another day without seeing Sophia. Even if it meant going to Sir Randolph’s house again and facing the wrath of Double and Trouble.
He half chuckled to himself. Had he really told Sophia he’d nicknamed her aunts? That wasn’t his finest hour, but neither was making love to her in a small boat. But there was no way either of them could have stopped what was happening between them that afternoon on the Serpentine. They had both wanted it. He had no regrets, but what about Sophia?
Did she?
His stomach knotted, and he felt like a fist had lodged in his chest. Was that the reason he hadn’t seen her? Maybe she was remorseful. He wanted to see her and find out.
Matson started to knee his horse and make another pass through the park when he saw three women walking about one hundred yards away. His breath caught and held in his lungs. The ladies were Sophia and her aunts. They looked just as he’d seen them that first day on the street: the aunts walking on either side of her, guarding her as the ribbons on their parasols fluttered with each step they took.
He squeezed Dash’s flanks and headed the animal toward Sophia, but while about fifty yards away, he saw Sir Henry Braxton stop and talk to them. Matson halted Dash. No doubt the man was another possible beau for Miss Mae Shevington. He would wait until Sir Henry left before he approached them. He could enjoy looking at Sophia when she didn’t even know he was around.
Matson knew he was thunderstruck the first time he saw her, and that hadn’t changed. When she was around, he was sensitive to every move and every sound she made. Right now he ached to touch her.
She was the most intriguing woman he’d ever met. Something about the way she looked at him with those sparkling green eyes, smiled at him with those gorgeous lips, and took him to task over little matters as well as important things kept him coming back to her, when he should run as far away from her as possible. Sir Randolph had made it very clear he would be a part of her life. She was his heir, and Matson wanted no part of that man.
Finally he saw Sophia and her aunts bid Sir Henry farewell, so Matson kneed his horse again. When he was near, Sophia must have heard his horse, because she looked in his direction. She stopped and smiled. Matson halted Dash, jumped down, and walked the horse the rest of the way to them. He tried to look each of them in the eyes when he greeted them, but it was hard t
o do when he had eyes only for Sophia.
“You ladies look lovely on this warm afternoon,” he said.
“Thank you, Mr. Brentwood,” Mae said. “We enjoy a walk in the park no matter the weather, don’t we, June?”
“We do, but days like this make it especially nice,” June added.
He looked at Sophia. “How have you been, Miss Hart? I know you were chilled after our boating. I trust you had no lingering consequence from our being stranded on the Serpentine.”
“None whatsoever, Mr. Brentwood. My health is excellent. What about yours?”
“Couldn’t be better,” he said but was thinking how amazing it was that just being near her lifted his spirits. “I haven’t seen you at any of the parties, so I was worried that maybe you had suffered a chill.”
“No. I’ve been at parties every night since our boating.”
“So have I. I suppose we just managed to attend different parties.”
“It seems that way. I’ll be attending parties at Lady Windham’s and Mr. and Mrs. Gilbert’s.”
“Don’t forget the Talbots, Sophia,” Mae added. “We’ll be going to their house first.”
“That’s right, Auntie,” Sophia said, turning to Mae. “There are so many to choose from each evening that it’s easy to mix up the names. Did you say we would go to Lady Windham’s house last?”
Matson smiled to himself. Now, he knew at which parties he could find her and when.
“Oh, my, yes. Her soirée will be the bigger affair, so we’ll naturally want to stay longer there.”
Sophia’s gaze hadn’t left his face since he arrived. He loved the way she was looking at him. He knew that, like him, she was thinking of kisses, caresses, and sweet sighs.
Matson swallowed hard. “You had mentioned that perhaps we could practice for the wheelbarrow race,” Matson said. “Is there any chance you will be free an afternoon this week?”
“I’m afraid not, Mr. Brentwood,” June piped into the conversation with her usual commanding tone. “Sophia’s schedule is completely filled. Since she is new to the ton, everyone is requesting time with her. I’m sure you can understand that.”
More than she knew.
“We really should be going, Mr. Brentwood,” June continued. “Do excuse us.”
“Of course,” he said, unable to think of anything that might delay them longer. At least he now knew Sophia was all right and which parties to attend this evening in order to see her. “Good afternoon, Miss Shevington, Miss Shevington, Miss Hart.”
Matson watched the three ladies turn and walk away. Suddenly he heard a screech and a gasp and saw Miss June Shevington fall to the ground, clutching her ankle. Matson let go of the reins of Dash and rushed over to June.
“Auntie, what happened?”
“June, are you all right?” Mae asked.
“No, I’m not all right.” She grimaced. “I must have stepped in a hole and twisted my ankle.”
“Let me have a look,” Mae said. She went to pull up the hem of June’s skirt, but June jerked it back down.
“Please, Mae. You can’t pull up my skirt. Mr. Brentwood is right there.”
“Oh, hush up,” Mae said, “and let me look. Mr. Brentwood doesn’t care a fig about seeing your old ankle.”
Matson rose. “Nevertheless, I don’t want to cause Miss Shevington more anguish. You and Miss Hart look at her ankle and tell me how I may be of help.”
Matson turned his back and walked a couple of steps away from the ladies. He couldn’t help but wonder what, as he stood and listened to them chattering, had turned Miss June Shevington against men. That woman needed a man to give her a big hug and kiss and take the starch out of her ruffles.
Within a couple of minutes, Matson heard footsteps come up beside him and he turned to face Sophia. “How is she?”
“I don’t think it’s broken, but she must have given it a good twist. There’s no way she can walk home.”
“I’ll ride to my house and get my carriage to take her home.”
“That is what she wanted, but I told her that was foolish. It will take too much time. I said she should let you put her on your horse and walk her home. Is that not the more sensible thing to do?”
Matson smiled. “Yes, and I’m willing to do it, but I’m not sure Miss Shevington will allow it. I don’t think she wants me touching her.”
“She doesn’t want any man touching her.”
His eyes narrowed. “Can you and your aunt lift her onto the horse?”
“Maybe.” She smiled mischievously. “But I’ve insisted to her that we can’t. If she wants to get home quickly, she will have to allow you to help her onto the horse. She saw the value in that and agreed you could assist her.”
He chuckled. “Then let’s get her on the horse and home before she changes her mind.”
Matson walked the horse close to June. He told Mae to hold the reins short and tight while he gently helped June to stand.
“Now, Miss Shevington, I will need to take hold of your waist, and on the count of three, I need you to jump up, and I will lift you onto the saddle.”
“I understand, Mr. Brentwood. Get to it quickly, and let’s get this done.”
With little effort, Miss Shevington was cautiously and comfortably settled onto the saddle. Matson led Dash, and Sophia fell in step beside him. Mae walked beside her sister.
“I’ve missed seeing you, Sophia,” Matson admitted.
She quickly glanced back at her aunts. “Shh. You mustn’t call me Sophia when they are close enough to overhear.”
Matson shrugged. He wouldn’t mind shaking up her aunts a little, but he supposed doing it when June’s ankle was hurt wasn’t the best time to send her into a fit of outrage.
“We are talking very low, and the sound of the horse’s hooves is between us. It might help if you walked just a little closer to me.”
She looked at him and smiled. “You are a devil at times.”
“Does that smile mean you like it when I am a rogue?”
“I’m not sure,” she answered demurely. “You know, I’ve been to the park the previous two days, but I haven’t seen you.”
“I didn’t come. I was—busy,” he said, realizing at the last second that he didn’t want to mention the brooch, when it would cause her unnecessary anguish. He never wanted to see her frightened and trembling again, remembering the fire that almost cost her and her father their lives.
“So you don’t exercise your horse daily, as you said.”
Matson grinned. She did like to test him, and he liked that she did.
“I suppose I should I have said I exercise him daily when I don’t have more important things to do.”
“Oh, yes, I’m sure you have many more important things to do.”
“Did you need me for something?”
“No. I was just worried about you and wanted to make sure you were all right.”
He chuckled lightly. “Tell me, how is your quest to find Miss Shevington a beau coming along?”
Sophia frowned. “Not well. I can’t seem to get any of the gentlemen to pay her any attention.”
“I believe I suggested as much would happen.”
“Don’t remind me you were right.”
Matson laughed again.
“If you two would stop laughing and pick up the pace,” June called, “we might get home before dark.”
“Of course, Auntie,” Sophia said before turning to smile at Matson.
Matson’s heart tumbled. “Save me a dance at Lady Windham’s house tonight, if you can fit me in between all your many suitors and your aunts.”
“I can always make room for one more,” she said and then laughed, but quickly put her hand over her mouth so her aunt wouldn’t hear.
Matson picked up their pace.
Sevente
en
That which ordinary men are fit for, I am qualified in; and the best of me is diligence.
—William Shakespeare
It was already midafternoon of market day in Timsford’s Square, and Matson had made several trips around the area where he’d last seen the boy. As he had for several weeks now, Matson took his time and carefully looked at all the youngsters he passed. He was banking on the hope that by now the boy would have regained his courage and come back to the place where he’d been so successful.
Near one end of the square there was a milliner’s shop that had four steps leading up to the door. The landing was quite large and the perfect place to watch the square for a while undetected. Matson leaned against a post, settling in for another long afternoon of watching people. He didn’t mind the solitude so much because it gave him time to think about Sophia.
He’d checked in with his manager, and things seemed to be going well in getting the ships unloaded and the warehouses stocked. One of his ships would be heading back to America within the month. He and Iverson had decided to keep a business open there to take care of their customers and take orders for new ships, but all the building would be done in England. It would require that either he or Iverson travel back to Baltimore once or twice a year to check on the progress, but they’d agreed it was the right thing to do for the clients who’d helped them build their successful business.
Though he spent some time thinking about Brentwood’s Sea Coast Ship Building, it wasn’t long before Sophia crowded his mind again. He’d noticed last night at Lady Windham’s that she hadn’t danced with Lord Bighampton, though he’d seen the earl talking to her and Sir Randolph more than once.
She’d danced with a host of gentlemen, including Lord Waldo’s brother, the Duke of Rockcliffe, who’d just returned to London from his winter absence. Matson had made a note to watch the man when he was with Sophia. He’d heard that the duke was notorious for cheating at cards and expected that gentlemen should forgive him because he was a duke. Matson didn’t care if he was a duke, the king, or the devil himself; if you couldn’t trust a man to play a fair hand, you couldn’t trust him with anything else in life, especially a young lady.
