A Gentleman by Moonlight

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  "But you were not married."

  "We would have been." Sophia shook her head as if disgusted with herself. "That was my intention."

  "That does not make it right." Lewis was certain of this. On the peninsula, he had witnessed similar horrors inflicted upon innocent women and had come to the conclusion that, married to the man or not, no woman should be forced to yield her body to a man in that manner. It might be legal, but that did not make it moral or right, especially not when the very same act could be used as a means of punishment or fear or coercion during war. He had seen far too many men forced to lay down their weapons or betray their country because of the threat of similar physical violence against their wives, mothers, sisters and daughters.

  In Lewis' mind, such tactics were the last resort of weak men who were not strong enough or man enough to do what was necessary on their own. There was never an excuse for a man to force himself on a woman. Not even a woman he was about to wed or whom he had already wed.

  So while, yes, Sophia had been something of a brat and a bit headstrong, she also had not deserved such a fate. He would also blacken the eye of anyone who said otherwise. Or break the man's jaw. Whatever came first.

  Tiling her head, Sophia conceded his point. "Be that as it may, the damage has been done and I have only made the situation even worse with my recent actions. Actions that have adversely affected you and for that I am greatly sorry."

  "Thank you." Lewis wasn't certain when anyone, especially a lady, had apologized to him. In general, most people assumed that he could not be hurt. After all, he had survived a French saber attack and multiple gunshots, so most people did not believe that a few words could truly do him any harm. "But your apology isn't necessary. Each man is responsible for his own actions. With each step I took, especially that night and in every day that has followed, I knew what I was about."

  Well, perhaps not yesterday when all he could think of was how Sophia would react to the news of Selby's death and Lewis' driving desire to be the one to inform her of the news. Why? Even now he was not certain. Did he wish her to swoon into his arms when he delivered the news? No matter how she felt about Selby's death, Lady Sophia was not the swooning sort. More over, women did not swoon into Lewis' arms. If anything, they gave him a pitying glance and then moved on as quickly as possible before such a thing as a swoon was even possible, lest he touch them in some fashion.

  "Still, you did me a great service by coming to call upon me yesterday." Her eyes were clear now, all traces of the earlier tears gone. "Likely because you knew that I would be better off hearing the news of his passing from you than from another."

  "Something like that," Lewis agreed.

  Sophia rose and began to pace the room, obviously agitated now. "And for that good deed, you have lost your position at Bow Street."

  "It is only temporary," Lewis rushed to assure her as he, too, rose to his feet. "The gossip will die down soon enough and I can return to my position, as I do rather enjoy it." Or he hoped that he could return anyway.

  "Or perhaps not."

  Both Lewis and Sophia turned at the same time to see the dowager duchess, Lady Mary Reynolds, standing in the doorway, her back straight as a rod. For a moment, Lewis could see a flash of fire in the older woman's eyes and instantly, he knew where Sophia had inherited her strength.

  "Duchess." Lewis offered her a low bow as she entered the room. "I did not hear you approach."

  "And with good reason." Like her daughter before her, the woman swept into the room with a commanding presence and once more, Lewis was struck by how strong-willed these women were. "I wished to ascertain your reasons for coming today on my own. Not be forced to accept whatever nonsense it was you wished me to believe." She gave him a thoughtful look. "I also wished to see how you interacted with my daughter."

  Lewis was taken aback. "Nonsense? I beg your pardon, your grace? I don't understand." Though he had a feeling that he would soon enough.

  The dowager waved him back into his seat, which he gratefully accepted. "I, too, read the gossip rags this morning, my good man, and I, too, am aware of how your visit to this house yesterday appeared to all and sundry. Especially as my daughter has refused all other callers since our return to London. Much to my chagrin." She cast a baleful look in Sophia's direction. "I am also acutely aware of her current social predicament, as I am certain you are as well, Lord Blackmore. Your appearance here yesterday did little to quell the soft, yet still persistent rumors that have swirled around the two of you since that night."

  "That was not my intention, your grace. I never wished to bring harm to your daughter." He resisted the urge to trace his fingers along his scar as he often did when he was nervous. "I merely thought that the news of Lord Selby's demise should be delivered by someone..."

  He trailed off. What could he say? Someone of Lady Sophia's class? For while that might have been true of him once, the third son of a marquess who was just out of the army was hardly of the same social standing as the daughter and sister of a duke. That he came here because they both knew the truth of that night? That might make him seem as if he was angling for something in exchange for his silence, even though he was not.

  "I wanted the news to come from a...friend," he finally finished lamely. He was not exactly a friend to the Reynolds family, but Lewis did have those vague yet still persistent memories of a young Sophia from a ball or two when he was home on leave. They had danced once though Lewis doubted that Sophia remembered the event, but even so, in his mind, that made him a sort of friend.

  Lewis had a feeling that the dowager duchess remembered that dance however as she continued to stare at him with shrewd, calculating eyes. They were not malicious eyes, nor were they pitying. Instead, they were simply knowing eyes that took his full measure. He only wished that he knew what the dowager saw when she looked at him. Did this woman see his scars? Consider him only half a man these days, as many people - both male and female - did? Did she see a member of the peerage who had served his country rather than live off his family money and a connection to a title that he himself would not inherit? Did she see a war hero who had lost his way upon his return to England and took to working for Bow Street, as well as the occasional favor to the Bloody Duke, as a way to give his life meaning once more?

  Even now, Lewis wasn't certain what Lady Reynolds saw when she looked at him with those lighter teal blue eyes so like her daughter's. However he had the distinct impression that she saw far more of him than he was comfortable with.

  "That is admirable," the dowager finally said. Lewis was aware that Sophia had not spoken a word since her mother had entered the room. "I also believe that your intentions for coming here today are admirable and good-hearted as well. You do not wish harm to come to my daughter, or at least not any more harm than has already befallen her."

  Lewis nodded, still wary. "But that is not the end of the matter, is it, your grace?" He had a sinking feeling in his stomach that he knew where this was going.

  "No, it is not." The older woman sighed. "For as good as your intentions might have been, today's visit will likely only further fuel the rumors of your interest in my daughter." Then, to his surprise, she smiled. "And that, at least in my eyes, is not necessarily a bad thing."

  "Mama?" Lewis was almost surprise when Sophia finally spoke up. "What sort of machinations are you up to now? No good can possibly come of this, whatever you are planning." Sophia was gripping the arm of her chair so tightly that her knuckles were white. He doubted that her mother noticed the small detail, but he did, and he knew it spoke directly to how terrified Sophia was over what was to come.

  "Nothing that I should not have thought of before." Lady Reynolds now had a serene smile on her face, one that made Lewis all the more nervous. "You, my darling daughter, need a husband." Then she turned her penetrating gaze on Lewis. "And you, captain, now need something to occupy your time."

  "No." Sophia sprang to her feet before Lewis could even think of what to sa
y. "I will not wed, Mama. We have been over this. I cannot even imagine a man touching me, as you well know, and I refuse to shackle Lord Blackmore to that sort of life. He deserves better."

  Despite Sophia's protests, something inside of Lewis warmed a bit at her words. Sophia's objections had not been to him specifically, nor his disfigurement. Instead, they had been about her and her deficiencies. That was probably not what he should have taken away from the exchange, especially since he had no desire to wed either, but he could not help himself. It was a refreshing change from the scores of women who refused to approach him because of his damaged looks.

  "I did not suggest marriage," her mother corrected firmly, "but that would be a happy outcome, should matters reach that point. No, I am merely suggesting that the two of you appear to court. At least in public. For Society's sake. And only for a short time."

  "Now it is I who must protest," Lewis stated flatly. He refused to be a pawn in anyone's game, no matter how noble the cause. "I am not the sort of man that Society embraces any longer."

  The dowager waved a hand in the air, dismissing his concerns as if they were nothing. "Pish. You are a war hero, a member of the peerage, and a respected Runner. You would be welcomed at any event you chose, and you have much to commend you as a potential suitor. I know for a fact that you receive numerous invitations to Society events. You simply turn them all down."

  "And you, your grace, have obviously been speaking to my mother." In his mind, there was no other way Lady Reynolds could have known about the stacks of invitations Lewis received daily. Unless, of course, she had a spy or two within his household. He would not put such a trick past her, especially if she was desperate to save her daughter's reputation. However, he didn't believe the dowager had done such a thing. Or so he hoped.

  "Agatha and I might have spoken a time or two as of late, yes." For some reason, Lewis had the impression that their chats were more than a mere time or two. "We attended Mrs. Witherson's together after all."

  "My mother believes I should get out in Society more." Lewis had endured the same lecture from his mother at least once a week since he had returned home from the war.

  The dowager gave another of those peculiar and unnerving serene smiles. "I happen to share her point of view. I also happen to know that sooner or later, my daughter's secret will be exposed if she does not rejoin Society as people are already beginning to question the change in her behavior. Which will place everyone involved, including you, Lord Blackmore, in a bad light. Rumors of that night at the Bull and Toad still abound, as I am certain you are well aware."

  She had him there. Sophia obviously knew it as well, for she sat back down and clamped her lips shut tightly in a firm line, leaving Lewis to continue this discussion on his own. "So what do you suggest, your grace? For I know you have an idea."

  Lady Reynolds waved a hand in the air once more. "It is nothing really. Simply a way to make all things right again." Then she softened. "Without harming my daughter, for despite what you may think, I am well aware of what Sophia has suffered. I may not understand that night or know the worst of the details, but I do understand that what transpired brought about a profound change within her."

  "I am right here, Mama," Sophia ground out through gritted teeth and once more, Lewis noticed the spark of fight flare within her.

  "And yet you are not," the dowager replied sadly. "Not as you once were. In fact, it is only in the presence of Lord Blackmore that you seem to come alive at all. The rest of the time, you pass through this house and this life as if you are a mere shadow. A ghost, if you prefer. Which is why I propose that the two of you pretend to court. My hope is that you, my darling Sophia, will begin to feel comfortable in Society again and, specifically, with men. Comfortable enough so that soon, you might marry, and we can finally put this rumor of your sullied reputation to rest. After all, you seem comfortable enough with Lord Blackmore and he is a man."

  Sophia drew in a deep breath and appeared outwardly calm, but all the while her eyes letting Lewis know that she was still unsettled. "He knows the truth, Mama. He could have hurt me that night but he didn't." Then she swallowed hard. "And...I trust him. He saved my life."

  Those few words should not have meant so much to Lewis, but they did. They hit him hard and took him aback for a moment. To have the trust of a woman like Sophia, one who had endured so much, was a rare gift indeed.

  "Thank you," he said quietly as he turned to face Sophia, ignoring her mother for the moment. "Your trust is a gift. I will not betray it."

  Then Lewis turned back to the dowager, determined to face her down. "And what do I get out of this arrangement, your grace? I am not saying that I refuse. After all, I do not wish Sophia more harm and I now realize how my presence here today will make things appear."

  Lady Reynolds brightened considerably when she realized that Lewis was at least considering her suggestion. "In time, you will be able to snare a well-bred wife, which I know from your mother that you desire. Eventually, you might regain your position with Bow Street. In the immediate present, you will begin to reclaim your rightful place in Society. One you have ignored for far too long and that, given your recent reticence, will not be easy to reclaim without the assistance of someone, particularly a young lady already well established within the beau monde. We might not like the rules of Society, my lord, but we all must live by them. Including you. Even if you are a third son."

  Lewis had the distinct impression that Lady Reynolds knew far more about his family than she was revealing at the moment. "I see."

  In his view, there was little choice in the matter. If, after today, he never saw Lady Sophia again, questions would always linger about them, especially if she never wed. After all, the two of them had already been linked in the gossip rags many times over without actual facts regarding their association. Neither of them would ever truly be able to escape the rumors about that night. Even now, they might not be able to do so, but there was a chance that something even more salacious, such as the two of them waltzing or stealing a kiss in a dimly lit garden somewhere, might supplant the dim memories of that night at the Bull and Toad when she had been seen lying in his arms.

  If such a gossip-worthy and yet not-all-that-scandalous event transpired, when they eventually separated, Sophia would be free to live her life and Lewis could lead his. It might even be enough to allow him to reclaim his job at Bow Street. Especially if Egerton believed that worst of the scandals surrounding Lewis and his involvement with Sophia had passed. And that people could trust him and his previously good word again.

  Still, there was one other person who had to agree to this little plot and she was sitting rather silently across from him, her eyes downcast. "Sophia?" Lewis kept his voice as gentle as possible. "What say you?"

  For a long moment, he thought she would not answer, sitting there still as a statue. However, when she finally looked up, her eyes were blazing with teal fire. "It is time I began acting like an adult and not a child. It is time I accept responsibility for my part in this disaster. I will not lie. I fear re-entering Society, but I also know that I must if I am to have any sort of future at all." She shook her head and for a moment, he could see a bit of the Society goddess that had been written about so often in the papers. "So, yes, Lord Blackmore, I would be happy to allow you to escort me into Society. For as many nights as are necessary to put things back to rights for all of us and restore your reputation as an upright and trustworthy man." Then she turned that fierce gaze on her mother. "But only Lord Blackmore and no other. That is my condition. And it is not negotiable."

  Lewis thought that for a moment Lady Reynolds would argue against her daughter's demand, but she did not. Instead, she simply nodded in agreement. "As you wish, my dear. Now, let us plan your first public appearance, shall we? I am thinking tomorrow evening at Lady Stonebridge's Ice Ball."

  As Lady Reynolds rushed on with her plans, Lewis began to wonder just what he had agreed to do a few moments ago. He also w
ondered why he had agreed to this absurd plan at all. He was a gentleman. He was not a fool to be played, and yet, somehow, the dowager had managed to manipulate him rather nicely. She had made him agree to return to Society for more than just the occasional evening. He tried to tell himself that it was strictly because it was the proper and gentlemanly thing to do in order to assist Sophia and help himself at the same time. That it was because he had been raised never to allow a lady to suffer if he could help it.

  Yet somehow, Lewis knew those were merely excuses and that he could not say precisely why he had agreed to the plan. And that made him far more nervous than facing down a battlefield full of French soldiers ever had.

  Chapter Five

  The next afternoon, Sophia had finally come to accept that going along with her mother's absurd plan of appearing with Lewis in Society was not only a good idea, but that it was, in some ways, absolutely necessary. The stream of visitors during calling hours earlier in the day had been seemingly endless, not to mention filled with young ladies that Sophia hadn't spoken to in months. Or in some cases, years.

  Yet each one appeared on her doorstep acting as if they were bosom friends and then, after a cup of tea or two and a few biscuits, gently began to pry into Sophia's life, asking thinly veiled questions about how Sophia had spent her summer and whether or not she was "recovering well" after her break with Lord Selby and his untimely passing. A few of the more daring visitors even had the cheek to inquire whether or not Sophia and her "new beau" would be appearing at any social functions during the Little Season.

  At first, Sophia hadn't quite known how to respond to those numerous inquiries. Her first instinct, of course, was to argue the point as she would have before, but then she remembered how often her sharp tongue had gotten her into trouble in the past and how she had vowed that she would be different now. Less spoiled. More thoughtful. She also remembered that her willfulness was how she had ended up in this predicament in the first place.