A Gentleman by Moonlight

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  Instead of becoming angry as some gentleman might have, Hunt simply smiled kindly with that same air of hidden sensuality that made him a ton favorite. Then again, when one was as poor as Lord Hugh Hunt, one had to learn to smile kindly at an early age, especially if one had any hope of prevailing upon the good nature of their friends for favors. Not to mention the occasional borrowing of funds.

  "I inquired as to whether or not you would like a glass of punch, as it is rather a crush in here and I fear that you are becoming overheated." Hunt led Sophia from the dance floor, being careful not to trip over the bases of the towering white spirals that Lady Knightly had scattered about the grand ballroom for decoration. "However, at the moment, I am more terrified of you breaking your neck if you trip over one of these monstrosities." He tapped on one lightly with his finger, and the structure made a hollow sound. "What in Heaven's name are these things?"

  Sophia paused in front of one of the spires that seemed to reach all the way to the mural-covered ceiling. In the past, she might have laughed or giggled but now she simply stared at the objects mutely for a long moment before speaking. "I believe they are temporary stucco sculptures, my lord. Though what they are supposed to be or to represent, I cannot hazard a guess." She, too, tapped at one with a fingertip. "This is Lady Knightly's annual Starlight Ball, so perhaps she meant to represent starlight falling to Earth?" Honestly, Sophia didn't care what the hideous structures were. Nor did she really care for a glass of punch either, though she would not inform Lord Hunt of that fact. He was only trying to be nice, likely at the behest of her brother. She would not put him in such an awkward situation by refusing his attentions this evening.

  It was also not Hunt's fault that Sophia felt as if she would rather be dead than be here at the ball. In fact, she was only at Lady Knightly's in the first place because her brother had insisted that she attend. If the decision had been up to her, Sophia would have locked herself in her room and spent the night crying again. Adam, however, had been rather insistent that nearly two full days of weeping was just about enough. He had also reminded Sophia that she had sneaked into the ladies retiring room at Lady Morton's fete the previous night to cry as well, and had only been chased out when Diana had gone into the room and practically drug Sophia out by her hair.

  So no, Sophia would not do Lord Hunt a disservice by sulking about any further. She had endured worse and survived. She would survive now as well. Even if it felt as if her heart was being quite literally ripped out of her chest and stomped upon by an entire military battalion.

  "I was told they are meant to be moonbeams, though if that is the case, Lady Knightly has been greatly taken advantage of by the sculptor. They rather look like giant piles of melted taffy."

  Turning in surprise, Sophia came face to face with Lady Aurelia Tillsbury, the youngest sister of Lord Robert Tillsbury, the current Viscount Chillton who also went by the amusing nickname of Frost. Aurelia just also happened to be the young woman that Hunt was greatly enamored with at the moment and had been courting for months.

  "Ari," Hunt hissed through clenched teeth. "Someone might hear you."

  Instead of being concerned however, the other woman laughed lightly and Sophia felt a pang of envy pierce her heart, which gave her pause. She hadn't known that particular and heart-wrenching sensation since she had begun her affair with Lewis. In truth, Sophia hadn't even realized that she had ceased feeling jealous of other women and their happiness until this very moment.

  For a moment, Sophia thought that Lady Aurelia might call her out for dancing with Hunt, but instead, the younger woman smiled broadly, likely as only the sister of Frost could, and gently placed her hand over Sophia's, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, pooh. You, my dear Hugh, have no sense of adventure." Then with a more serious look in her eyes, she turned back to Sophia. "How are you this evening?" She nodded in Hunt's direction. "I am glad that you allowed Hugh to take you for a turn on the dance floor, even if I am fairly certain you did not enjoy yourself."

  There was a part of Sophia that wanted to lie. She wanted to tell Aurelia that she was doing splendidly, that her icy blue satin gown made her feel like a fairy princess and that she was determined to become the belle of the ball that evening, her silver spangled slippers never touching the floor for very long.

  Except that to do so would be to lie and Sophia was done with lying. Perhaps if she had been truthful with Lewis that night in the conservatory, told him that she was developing true feelings for him, she would not be standing in the middle of Lady Knightly's ballroom with a broken heart and the terrible feeling that her world would never be whole again.

  So instead of lying, Sophia merely squared her shoulders and exhaled deeply. "I am as well as can be expected, I think. I am not perfectly well, certainly, but I am not a complete and utter watering pot, so that is something to be proud of, I suppose." Then she glanced at Lord Hunt who was still standing there a bit awkwardly. "Aurelia, thank you for allowing me to borrow your beau for a bit. Other young ladies have not been quite so generous, I am afraid. I truly do appreciate your generosity."

  In fact, as news of Sophia's newly unattached state had spread, she found that other young ladies that she had once considered friends - even if only in passing - now no longer even spoke to her or looked in her direction. For in their eyes, she had committed the ultimate sin. She had lost her beau to another woman, and each time those women looked at Sophia, they saw their own worst fear reflected back at them. For who was a lady in Society without a suitor or three? Especially at Sophia's age. Precisely no one of importance or consequence, that was who. In Sophia's case, she was all the worse, for she had not just lost one suitor but two. Therefore the fault must lie with Sophia herself and not the men, or so convention thinking went. No one needed to explain that to Sophia, either. She simply knew, as did every other woman here who was likely thanking their lucky stars that they were not in Sophia's dancing slippers at that very moment.

  Then there was the little matter of the gentlemen of Society. For in their own way, they were no better than the ladies with gossip and speculation. Men who had previously smiled and nodded in Sophia's direction when she was with Lewis now cast her lascivious stares that made her blood run cold. As if they knew, somehow, what she and Lewis had done. As if they hoped that now that she was unattached, she could be lured into their beds as well. Perhaps for just a quick tumble or, if they were supremely lucky, as a mistress. Even if Sophia lacked the particular skills a man desired, or so the current rumors went. For in the gentlemen's minds, to lose two beau also meant that she was lacking in a certain area. Though in their minds, that meant that she was lacking in the bedchamber, which also meant that she had already been tumbled once or twice, and was therefore fair game for them. Even if she was supposed to still be an innocent.

  Oh, no one would say those things aloud, of course. No, the people she encountered would pat her hand and offer their sympathies. However, in the depths of their minds, they were all still thinking those things, and there was nothing Sophia could do to change matters. It was simply the way of Society. Strangely, she found that she no longer cared. She should have cared, certainly. But she did not.

  "I am only too happy to help, and Hugh does dance divinely. If only we could dance more, but Mama says that it is not yet acceptable. Not until we are officially betrothed." Aurelia rolled her eyes in obvious frustration. "And I, for one, cannot wait for that moment, so I can snub my nose at the old tabbies and be done with things." She paused for a moment, scanning the room. "But for now, come, Sophia. Hugh is right that we require some refreshment for it is beastly hot in here." If the younger girl realized she was using Lord Hunt's Christian name, she did not remark upon it, so neither did Sophia. It was hardly her place to call Aurelia out for the liberty, especially considering what Sophia herself had done with Lewis only a few days before.

  Aurelia took Sophia's arm and the two of them set off towards the refreshment table, leaving Lord Hunt to trail
silently behind them. Which was fine with Sophia as Aurelia spoke enough for the both of them.

  Sophia did not know Aurelia well, as the girl was a bit younger than Sophia and her circle of friends, but she had always seemed friendly enough when they were attending social functions together and now she was one of the few debutantes unafraid to include Sophia in her own social circle. Not to mention that there was just something bubbly and bright about the girl. She was also clearly brazen enough to forge her own path in Society, giving little care to what others thought or said about her - much like her brother in that regard, who had found his new wife in a brothel of all places. It was little wonder that the vivacious and lively Aurelia had caught the eye of the kind and quiet Lord Hunt who was a long-time friend of Frost's. It was also just this sort of zest for life that Sophia craved at the moment, especially when she was feeling as if all of the light in her life had been stripped away, leaving only darkness and despair.

  It had been three days since Lewis had entered Sophia's home, made his devastating pronouncement and then stalked back out again as if he hadn't a care in the world. Three days since she had felt whole and happy instead of dead and broken inside. In some ways, this was far worse than what Alex had done to her, for Alex truly had no idea how much his actions had hurt her. In his delusional mind, he was completely in the right and thus felt no guilt.

  Except that Lewis, on the other hand, had clearly felt at least some level of guilt as evidenced by his actions that horrible morning. If he didn't care for Sophia at least a tiny bit, he would have simply sent her a note by messenger informing her of the dissolution of their arrangement. He would not have appeared at her door in person and risked the wrath of her brother when he delivered the news.

  No, over the last few days, Sophia had come to the conclusion that her initial suspicion that someone, likely someone in his family, had either pressured or forced Lewis to end their relationship. If she was a betting woman - and in the past she had been - Sophia would have placed odds that Lewis had been forced and that his father or possibly his brother had been the ones doing the forcing. She did not know the why, but she was confident in her assessment that the choice to end the courtship was not a choice Lewis had made or had made willingly.

  She also did not know how she could fight back against such loyalty. Or if she even had the strength and desire to try. If Lewis had shown some small bit of conflict regarding his decision, some tiny hint that he had not made this choice willingly, then perhaps... Or perhaps not... All Sophia knew was that she missed him so very desperately and wished that she knew some way to make things right again. To make herself whole and happy. To return to the Sophia she had become when she was with Lewis.

  Unfortunately, there was nothing that made the pain Sophia felt so deeply disappear or made the weight of his loss any easier to bear. She simply hoped and prayed that she did not encounter him again before she left Town for holiday season. Or, if she did encounter him, that Miss Modesty Watts was not hanging off of his arm like the country bumpkin that so many in Town already suspected her to be, thanks largely to Madame C.'s last Tattler column. Sophia really did not think she could bear such an awful sight.

  Sophia was so lost in thought that she stumbled a bit when Aurelia drew up short of the refreshment table. She had been doing that rather a lot as of late, including last night at Lady Morton's musicale when she had almost walked directly into the pianoforte. She needed to start paying attention or she would make a cake of herself for certain.

  "What is he doing here?" Aurelia all but hissed and for a moment, Sophia caught a brief glimpse of the legendary Chillton temper within her new friend. The girl was more substance than fluff after all, it seemed. "How dare he show his face here, especially when he knows Sophia was likely to attend?"

  For a brief moment, Sophia felt a pang of gratitude deep inside. Even in her darkest hours after Alex, she had not thought that any of her friends or acquaintances would offer her their support. Instead, she thought they would be horrified and disappointed. While she still would have done her best to keep knowledge of her attack private, now she acknowledged that many of her friends likely would have supported her had they known the truth. Telling even one of them would have likely gone a very long way in allowing her to heal quicker.

  "I shall have someone escort him out." Sophia was surprised to see Lord Hunt glowering at Lewis as well. So. She had more friends than she realized, then. That was comforting. Very much so.

  Sophia had thought that Hunt and Lewis were friends, actually, especially after the two men had worked together to keep Lavinia Tremont - and the woman who was now Frost's viscountess - safe from a kidnapping attempt by mad Frenchman Michel Balon. To learn that Hunt's loyalties lie with her was...surprising. Or perhaps, they simply lay with Aurelia. Sophia decided it likely depended upon how smitten Hunt was with the other woman, which appeared to be quite a bit.

  "No. Please do not make a scene." Sophia stayed Hunt with her hand when he would have likely departed to find some burly footmen. "This is something that I must come to terms with. Next Season he will be at many of the same entertainments I shall be. It cannot be avoided. And if I cannot face him now while he is alone, how can I hope to face him with his new bride?"

  Aurelia frowned. "So it is true then? There is another woman?" Sophia nodded once sharply. "But that cannot be! I saw the two of you at the theater the night of the storm. You were utterly entranced with each other."

  Sophia turned back to her new friends and for once, decided to trust that this young woman's intentions were good and true. "We are. Or were." She shook her head sadly. "However, Lewis' choices are not his to make. They never were. My feelings have not changed, and I doubt that his have either. However, he has been raised since birth to be loyal to his family and do his duty to them first before all others."

  "Even you?" Hunt asked quietly, a look of understanding crossing his face.

  "Even me," Sophia replied sadly. "It is far more complicated than you know and I cannot say more."

  Aurelia held up her hand. "And we would not ask you to betray confidences." Then she glanced behind the spot where Lewis stood. "Though I am not certain your brother feels the same."

  "Adam," Sophia muttered under her breath as she clutched her fan so tightly that she nearly snapped it in two. "Drat you."

  "Come." That came from Hunt as he offered both women an arm. "Perhaps this situation can be salvaged yet. I, for one, would like to get through what remains of the Little Season without further bloodshed." Then he led the two women forward into the developing fray between Sophia's brother and the man she loved. Sophia hoped all of them emerged the same way they were going in.

  Chapter Twenty

  Glancing around Lady Knightly's ballroom, Lewis wished that the floor would simply open up beneath him and swallow him where he stood. It would be the solution to all of his problems and he would no longer have to endure this gut-wrenching pain every time he imaged his life without Sophia. It would also teach his father and brother a lesson.

  Maybe. If they even cared about him and his happiness at all. Lewis was beginning to suspect they did not.

  In fact, he was beginning to suspect that both Guy and their father John really only cared about preserving the Blackmore name, the Dunleighton title, and the impression that their blue-blooded lineage was absolutely perfect, without flaw, and above reproach. Because if one small whiff of taint was associated with the Blackmores? Why, then, Guy would be unable to find a suitable bride of suitable bloodlines that were just as blue as his. Instead, as the Dunleighton heir, Guy would be looked upon with suspicion like Daniel Weston, that new American marquess. Or worse, have his very lineage called into question as Lord Evan Haddington, the new Marquess of Berkshire's had been earlier in the year when the man finally arrived in London to claim the title.

  Lewis was certain that, in his father's mind anyway, that convoluted jumble of thoughts was precisely how the scenario would play out if Lewis d
id not do as commanded and wed the likely-detestable Miss Watts and keep the secret of Silas' existence just that - a secret - for all eternity. For if Lewis refused, then Silas would be forced to "come home and do his duty," even though he was believed to be a prodigal son of the worst sort. And, of course, Silas couldn't very well wed anyone. Which would leave the Blackmores in the position of having to explain why the Hunterdon title had passed to Lewis and not Silas in the first place. And if anyone looked too closely, they would discover that all was not quite well in the Blackmore family tree, nor the Dunleighton line in general. Which, of course, brought everything right back around to Guy and his on-going quest for a suitable bride of suitable linage.

  It was a rather circular way of thinking about the matter, but Lewis knew his father well enough to understand that this was precisely the older man's view of the entire situation. Protect the title. Protect the family name. Protect Guy and his future, yet-to-be-discovered wife. To Hell with everything else. Including Lewis. It was simply the way of things in the Blackmore family and always had been. Lewis had never thought to challenge that particular way of thinking or his father's authority. Now? He did.

  In fact, Lewis had been at his family's town home for the last few days pleading his case, but to no avail. His father was steadfast in his belief that if Lewis kicked up a fuss and did not wed the Watts chit quickly and quietly, her father would kick up a fuss instead and thus attract unwanted attention to the entire lot of them, thus exposing the secret of Silas. That, Lewis' father had informed him that morning, was something that he simply could not abide.

  John Blackmore had also reminded Lewis that his first duty was to his family and the Dunleighton title. They had born him, raised him, educated him and nurtured him, at least according to his father. Lewis would have debated that last part, for while his family was loving in their own way, nurturing they were not. For the family as a whole, everything had always been and always would be about duty.