Three Original Ladies 02 - Lord Trowbridge’s Angel

by G. G. Vandagriff

  “Not yet.”

  “There is no reason why you cannot get away, then. London is not the best place to heal from an inflammation of the lungs. Elise and I will both feel better if you get out into the country.”

  “It does sound lovely. Thank you both for thinking of me.”

  “We will leave in the morning, then. We are taking the family traveling carriage. The children are staying behind with their nurse.”

  { 26 }

  RESTLESS, FRANK DECIDED to go to the club for dinner. Shrewsbury beckoned to him when he entered the dining room. Joining his friend at his table, he said, “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to take a lovely young woman off my hands, would you?”

  “Inasmuch as Miss Edwards is already off your hands, you must be referring to the Lady Melissa. Sorry, friend, she is indeed lovely, but a bit light-minded, I fear. Not to my taste.”

  “I really did not compromise her, you know. She is virtuous still.” Frank poured himself a glass of claret from his friend’s bottle. When the waiter drew near, he ordered venison, roasted potatoes, and peas, with apple tart and cream to follow.

  “What do you think?” he asked his friend. “Is the food really better at White’s?”

  “Possibly. If you can stomach the Tories.”

  “There is one Whig I wish to avoid.”

  “Lady Melissa’s overweening Papa?”

  “Yes,” Frank said and drained his glass. “He has put this whole thing in train, and I simply cannot marry his daughter. Sophie has my heart, and I fear she always will.”

  Shrewsbury was silent as he sliced his lamb chop.

  “How is your liaison with lovely Lila proceeding?” Frank asked.

  “I have come to the conclusion that the women in my life prefer their men dark.”

  “Dark as in devilish?”

  “No. As in complexion. Lila is obsessed with you. We have parted ways.”

  Frank grew uncomfortable. Shrewsbury had said “women.” Sophie was the only woman in his life. He was right, then. His friend had a tendre for his angel. How painful.

  Rather than letting the silence stretch out, he asked, “And how does the great scheme progress with the orphan girls?”

  “Ruisdell and I go to the country tomorrow to search out possible sites for the orphanage. That seems to be the way the wind is blowing. Hopefully, we can find a place not too far from London where they can be brought up to a trade, as well as taught to read.” He paused as the waiter brought Frank’s dinner. When the man had gone, he proceeded. “You might as well know, Miss Edwards goes with us, as does the duchess. They think getting out of London for a few days will aid Miss Edwards’ convalescence.”

  Frank stirred uneasily. He no longer had an appetite for the dinner before him. Did Sophie know that Shrewsbury was to accompany her party? The idea of the two of them being on an outing together that consisted of a “few days” disturbed him more than he would ever admit. He had scarcely spent that much time with Sophie himself.

  The fact was that Shrewsbury was devilishly attractive. The present situation was the first time in their friendship when Frank had had the upper hand as far as women were concerned. He had never been particularly bothered by it, as his interest in women had never taken a serious turn. But Shrewsbury had had a number of serious affairs of the heart that he had chosen to end at the point where the lady involved was expecting a declaration. He was, in a word, a heartbreaker.

  This had never troubled Frank before. But in spite of her pledges to him, what if Sophie were to fall for Shrewsbury? And what if he were to casually break her heart? A surge of protectiveness overtook him. The woman he loved thought she knew her own mind, but she was actually quite naïve. He must warn her. He must go to her again tonight.

  “Something troubles you, Frank?” his almost lifelong friend asked.

  “Don’t break her heart. Don’t even think of it.”

  His friend smiled his attractive smile. “What makes you think I would do something like that?”

  “History.”

  Frank rose, his dinner uneaten, and strode to the reading room. He ordered brandy, took a cigar from the case, and seized a sporting periodical. He must bide his time until midnight, when he would sneak into the Deal mansion again.

  ~~*

  At last, the hour came. He walked briskly from Brook’s to Sophie’s home. There appeared to be several candles alight in her bedroom. A warmth came into Frank’s chest in anticipation of seeing his beloved. Even if Shrewsbury weren’t accompanying her, he would have come for a good-bye kiss. They had never been parted before.

  Why was he acting like a school boy? Where was his sang froid, his breezy manner? When had he become so earnest?

  Devil take it! The window was locked! He tried all the others, but someone had locked up the house tight as a drum. It was too late for a letter. Sitting on a stone bench in the garden, Frank simmered in frustration.

  { 27 }

  SOPHIE STAYED CLOTHED in the evening gown she had worn to dinner, hoping that Frank would visit her again. Packed and ready to go on the morrow, she stared out her bedroom window, but clouds covered the moon and she could see very little.

  After an interminable wait, she heard midnight strike on the clock in the hall. Sophie struggled out of her gown, hung it up, and plaited her hair. Possibly Lila was importuning him again. Or maybe Frank was at a card party at the Kents,’ partnering Melissa. He did not even know she was leaving in the morning.

  Sitting down at her desk, Sophie dismissed any unworthy thoughts, choosing instead to show a little faith and write him a letter of farewell.

  My Dear Frank,

  I am leaving town for a few days to help Peter and Lord Shrewsbury try to locate a property for the Girls’ Orphanage. Elise and Fanny feel that country air is the prescription that is needed to complete my recovery. It is difficult to breathe in this sooty London air. I keep coughing.

  I have been reluctant to discuss it, but I believe Melissa to have a bit of a tendre for you. Try to be kind to Melissa.

  I shall miss you.

  Faithfully,

  S.

  ~~*

  When the carriage arrived to take up Sophie, Lord Shrewsbury helped her climb up the steps and take her seat. Fortunately, she was seated next to Elise. There was a tension in Shrewsbury that reminded her of a large cat, possibly a tiger, ready to spring.

  After greetings were exchanged, Sophie asked, “How far are we going today?”

  “Actually, we have a surprise in store for you, Sophie,” Peter said. “We are going to spend the night at Hanford House, Frank’s property in Charlbury, which is close to Oxford. You will be able to see the house and grounds, and then tomorrow we will start the day with a tour of the University.”

  “How interesting,” Sophie said, her heart leaping at the mention of Hanford House. Maybe she would even be able to have a look at the suite of rooms Frank was having redecorated for her. This was an unlooked-for pleasure. “I will enjoy both those things very much. Frank’s college was Balliol. Did you attend Oxford, Lord Shrewsbury?”

  “New College,” he said. “But Frank and I saw a great deal of one another. We roomed together for several years at Eton. My parents were abroad much of the time, so I spent holidays at Hanford House many times.”

  Sophie wished there were some way she could ask the man how he thought he could court her when Frank was trying so desperately to free himself from his engagement.

  Peter continued, “Tomorrow, we will stay the night at Chipping Norton, which is in the heart of wool country. The chipping name means it’s a market town. We will look there to see if it might be a possibility for the orphanage. Two days from London is better than three.” The duke slapped his knees. “Now, Shrewsbury, cards or chess?”

  Shrewsbury chose chess, and Sophie was glad that she would be spared his conversation for a bit. She was thrilled that soon she would see Hanford House.

  “Elise, I am finally going to read your
latest book.”

  “Oh?” her sister queried. “Lady Corbett’s House Party? I hope you will enjoy it. It’s my latest attempt at satire. If you were more acquainted with the ton, you would recognize some of the people in it.”

  ~~*

  Sophie had always heard how beautiful the Cotswolds were. As they neared Charlbury after their day in the carriage, she spied brilliant rose gardens in front of delightful golden Cotswold stone cottages. “The stone here is so beautiful! It’s like honey,” she said.

  “Wait until you see Hanford House!” Shrewsbury said. “It is not overlarge, but it is truly charming. The rose gardens are famous hereabouts.”

  Sophie was thrilled with her first glimpse of what she hoped would be her future home. Set at the bottom of a grassy, wooded hill, she could tell that one of the wings was very old, indeed.

  “The original part of the house dates from medieval times. It has very low ceilings,” the baron said.

  Elise asked, “When was the rest of it built?”

  “The right hand wing was originally a buttery, but sometime in the fourteenth century, a second story was added. Then the two wings were connected by a Gothic architect. It’s a bit of a jumble, but it sits together nicely.”

  “We are expected,” the duke said. “We will have the housekeeper give us a tour.”

  Sophie fell in love with the warmth and richness of Hanford House. It appeared to have been recently refurbished, as the rooms were painted in the pastel shades popular in modern design. Though their tour was only of the ground floor, she found she could imagine living there very well. She let forth a sigh when she thought of the complications she and Frank faced.

  As the tour progressed, both she and Shrewsbury hung back from the others a bit. While Elise and Peter were examining the books in the library, the baron leaned down and, in a low voice, said to Sophie, “Frank does quite a bit of entertaining. He is very fond of society. I do not think you should underestimate that fondness in any way.”

  Startled, she looked up into his face. “What on earth do you mean?”

  “Not being familiar with the ton, you might not understand what would happen were Frank to break his engagement to Lady Melissa, especially as she is considered compromised.”

  “I know it is not the done thing,” Sophie said.

  “He would be completely barred from polite society, as would his family. He could not take part in politics, he would be thrown out of his club, living out his life in lonely obscurity. I do not think you can count on our Frank to give up Society for you.”

  Sophie’s reply was out in a flash. “I do not expect it. I never have. Though I could live retired and have in the past, I know that it would not do for Frank.”

  “The only way out of this engagement is for Lady Melissa to cry off.”

  His words caused a sickening lump to form in her abdomen, as she recalled the odds against her happiness. This place that seemed so like home and the man she seemed to have known forever would most likely never be hers.

  After a dinner Sophie only picked at, they adjourned to the drawing room where Elise entertained them on the piano. Sophie read while the men played cards. Every once in a while, she raised her head to look at the room. As in his London home, there were landscape paintings covering these periwinkle walls. The parquet flooring was covered with jewel-colored Oriental carpets. Fresh roses filled the many Chinese vases that stood throughout the room. Outside, there was a thunderstorm, making the candlelit room seem like a refuge. Despite her uncertain future, the coziness of the room enveloped her, soothing Sophie with thoughts that all would be right, that many future evenings would be spent in this lovely room with Gorgeous Frank. And possibly a dog. A Great Dane would be perfect.

  { 28 }

  LORD DONALD SHOWED UP ONLY SLIGHTLY LATE for his dinner with Frank at Brook’s. He had reserved a table out of the way, where their conversation could be private. He did not know what he hoped to learn from Lady Melissa’s brother, but the connection was a desirable one, no matter what the future held.

  The young man was a miniature of his bombastic father, rather short with dark auburn hair and light brown eyes. Dressed as a dandy, he wore exaggerated collar points that made it difficult for him to turn his head. His waistcoat was a florid purple and pink paisley, worn with a purple coat and matching breeches.

  “So you are interested in sport?” Frank asked after they had ordered their dinner.

  “Rather! Would you consider taking me up when next you run a curricle race?”

  “Would you like to hold the yard of tin?”

  “Rather!”

  “Well, it might be arranged. I have no plans to race in the near future, however. How did you leave your sister?”

  “Blue-deviled. You’d think she would be happy that she is going to be married to an out-and- outer such as you, but she is Sophie’s best friend, and I gather that you and Sophie, uh, well, it’s hearts and roses with the two of you.”

  “Maybe we should stay off that topic, Lord Donald.”

  “Sorry, my lord. Of course.”

  Pouring his guest a glass of claret, he asked, “Do you box?”

  “Rather! Of course, I’ve only boxed at Oxford. It’s my particular sport. Mother doesn’t know.”

  “You’ll have to join me at Gentleman Jackson’s Saloon someday.” Frank leaned forward and said in a low voice, “I have heard there is to be a mill.”

  “I say!” Donald’s eyes lit with pleasure. “When?”

  “Tomorrow. These things are held outside London, you know. This one is to be at Redbridge Crossing. Would you like to attend?”

  “Above all things!”

  “You may come with me, young Donald. I’ll even pass along a tip. Make yourself a bit of the ready.”

  “My guv’nor wouldn’t approve. What shall I tell him?”

  “You will think of something. What other varieties of sport do you enjoy?”

  “I shoot and fence, actually,” Lord Donald said as the waiter brought their soup.

  “Perhaps you are going to watch a fencing match tomorrow. Outside London. At some great house. I’ll leave that to you.”

  When Frank and his new friend later parted ways, he was very pleased to have made some inroads into the young man’s confidence. They were to meet the following afternoon at Brook’s for the drive to Redbridge Corners.

  ~~*

  The mill was vastly entertaining. Hudson was the favorite, but Frank happened to know the challenger, Somers, from Jackson’s. He knew the favorite outweighed Somers, but he also knew that Somers had excellent technique. His wager was on Somers, against the odds. Lord Donald decided to follow suit and laid a hefty bet on the challenger.

  The match was a close one, and Frank watched with amusement as his companion’s spirits went from elation to agony. Not a young man who did things by halves, evidently. However, in the eighth round, Somers finally delivered the knock-out punch and raised his glove in victory.

  As they collected their winnings, Lord Donald was jubilant. “This will cover my run of bad luck. I can’t thank you enough for the tip, my lord.”

  Frank was pleased that Lady Melissa’s brother had done so well. On the carriage ride back into town, he said, “You know I think your sister a fine lady.”

  “But not your fine lady. To tell the truth, Sophie is by way of being a diamond of the first water.”

  “Your sister is lovely, too.”

  “But not classically beautiful like Sophie. Believe me, I understand your dilemma.”

  “I have known many beautiful women. My attraction to Sophie is rather because of her character. Have you known her long?”

  “All her life. Our estate borders on hers. Has she mentioned Lady Hatchet?”

  “Lady who?”

  “That’s Sophie’s mother’s nickname. Should be Lady Banshee. Dreadful woman. Made Sophie’s life a living hell. The girl was with us as much as possible. That’s why Melissa and Sophie are so close. And tha
t’s why my sister’s so miserable now. She doesn’t want to be the one that takes away Sophie’s chance at happiness.”

  Frank said, “One would think that between two downy gentlemen such as ourselves, a solution could be found. Your father and I have not yet talked settlements. I gather, however, that her dowry is a good one?”

  “M’sister’s worth thirty thousand pounds,” Lord Donald pronounced.

  Frank nearly choked. “And no one has shown the least interest in such a beautiful lady with such a handsome dowry?”

  “Well there was one chap she was keen on before you were in the picture. Met him at her come-out. Thought he was a bang-up cove. Can’t remember his name precisely. Oak … something, but not Oakley.”

  The name teased at Frank. Somewhere he had heard it mentioned. “I will look into it. Thank you, Young Donald.”

  ~~*

  In order to jog his memory, Frank attended the Westhavens’ rout that evening. As he should have expected, Lila was the first person to greet him after he moved beyond the receiving line.

  “I understand you are engaged, my lord. But not to Miss Lame Gel. However did you come to compromise the Aldridge chit? And since when have you taken to running after green girls?”

  “Lila, you outdo yourself in rudeness,” he replied. “Lady Melissa and I are the victims of a misunderstanding. I would appreciate it greatly if you would refrain from mentioning it.”

  “Ah, so you are not marrying for love!” she said, drawing her arm through his. She crushed herself against his arm. “You will yet have need of me, I don’t doubt.”

  Frank, ignoring her as they walked about the outer reaches of the room, was looking among the guests, hopeful of locating ‘Oak. ’”

  “You were missed at my Salon on Sunday,” Lila continued.

  “I have been uncommonly busy,” he said.

  “That is unlike you, darling Frank. You are usually the most leisured man I know.”

  “Make that ‘bored man. ’ I assure you, I am no longer bored.”

  At that moment, he spotted Lord Oaksey, and his memory of the name returned. Sophie had asked about him during their ride in the park. He had taken offense. Was it possible she had merely asked about the man on Lady Melissa’s behalf? It seemed probable.