“Of course not,” Sophie said, raising her chin.” I am merely concerned for Melissa’s sake. I know that she does not want to marry you.”
Frank wanted to tell her that he was not such a flat as to believe that, and silently rejoiced.
“If you could have your choice of hearing the best poet in the Kingdom recite his verse, whom would you choose?” he asked.
“William Wordsworth. You know that.” She colored as soon as the words were out.
Frank chose diplomatically to ignore her self-consciousness.
Posing as a conjurer, he whipped the handkerchief out of his pocket and shook it before her. Pretending to draw something from it, he held out an empty hand as though it contained a treasure. “I have, in my gift, an invitation from his grace, the Duke of Devonshire, an invitation to a reading to be given by the esteemed poet, William Wordsworth, on Saturday evening. I beg that you will accompany me. Your sister Elise, as well as your Aunt Clarice, will be in attendance.”
“But I have heard that he is very reclusive and does not do readings!”
“For the Duke of Devonshire, he does. Perhaps he is a patron. Or perhaps Wordsworth hopes that he will become a patron. Lady Susannah was given an invitation for five people, and as luck would have it, or perhaps Providence, I was there for lunch today when she mentioned it. She graciously allotted two of her invitations for me and for you.”
To his complete surprise, Sophie threw herself onto his chest and put her arms around him. “Oh excellent, excellent Gorgeous Frank! What an honor! What an evening! I could not have dreamed of anything I would like better.”
He wrapped her securely in his arms. “Even if you must endure my company?”
She hid her face in his waistcoat. “You must know, Frank, that there is no one I know who appreciates Wordsworth as you do. No one else in whole company I would rather be.”
He tipped her chin up with his fingers. “And you still claim that we do not suit?” He looked at her smooth, full lips, and wondered if a kiss would be welcome, or whether it was asking too much.
As if reading his mind, Sophie put her fingers up to his mouth. “What does it matter how well we suit when you are still engaged to Melissa and the time of the wedding grows ever closer?”
Releasing her, he ground his teeth in frustration. “We will go to the reading. We will enjoy this opportunity which may never come again. Then, if things should not go as we wish, we will always have Wordsworth. We will always be able to look back on the evening as a grand apex in our personal experience.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “I want the chance to treasure you forever, darling, to smooth every frown, to lighten every cloudy sky. Ever since you walked toward me the first night I saw you, I have desired that.” Pulling her to him, he encircled her once again in his arms. “And when I heard your violin and realized how much more there was to life and love than I had supposed, I knew that we belonged to one another. Something will happen. Providence could not be so cruel to keep us apart. We must have faith.”
{ 37 }
SOPHIE COULD NOT WAIT to tell Fanny her news. She found her in her upstairs sitting room, finishing the embroidery on Alexa’s new white lawn dress.
“What a picture of contented domesticity you present, Fan! If I did not know you better, I would think you were tamed to this life.”
“Ah, but I know Italy waits in the wings. One can endure almost anything if one knows Italy awaits. Has Frank been here? You look very cheerful.”
Sophie told her the news.
“Oh, that is famous! How I wish I could come. But Alexa would rule that out in any case. I am glad Elise will be there, as well. You and Frank have some history with Wordsworth, do you not?”
“Yes. Though events seem to have made a mockery of it.” She described their mutual feelings of having known each other before when “trailing clouds of glory do we come from God, who is our home.”
Perkins entered the room. “Lord Shrewsbury is waiting to see you,” he announced.
She sighed. “Show him in to the yellow sitting room, please.” To Fanny, she said, “Merciful heavens, what can the man want now?”
“He is truly a gorgeous man, you know,” Fanny said.
“Remember, you are leg-shackled to Buck.”
“As though he would let me forget it! And as though I would want to. Run along, dearest.”
~~*
Sophie had never seen Lord Shrewsbury so pleased with himself. He was positively beaming.
“My dear Miss Edwards,” he announced, “I have such a wondrous surprise!”
She had a terrible presentiment. “Oh yes?”
“I have the pleasure of extending an invitation to you by way of the Duke of Devonshire to attend a reading by the poet William Wordsworth!”
Sophie gave a little smile. “That is indeed wonderful, Lord Shrewsbury. How very kind of you to think of me! However, I must tell you that I have already received and accepted another such invitation.”
The baron’s brows came crashing down. “Where did you come by such a thing?” He was clearly vexed.
“Lord Trowbridge was here before you. It was he who tendered me the invitation.”
“But where did he come by it? There are very few invitations available.”
“From the Duke, of course.”
Shrewsbury had never showed such poor grace. His face was in a full scowl. “Do you still hope to marry the man?”
“I believe he is still engaged to my friend, Lady Melissa.”
“And likely to remain so. Do you still refuse to entertain my suit?”
“Lord Shrewsbury, I like you very well. However, as soon as my musicale is past, I plan on returning to Derbyshire, where I shall remain. I have had enough of London and the ton. I am a creature of the country. I fear we would not suit.”
She sat down, hoping now that he would leave. Instead, he paced the room, his hands gripping one another behind his back. “I, too, have an estate in Derbyshire. It is not as grand as Hanford, but it is an elegant house in the Palladian style. Would you permit me to call upon you while you are in the country?”
Since she would not be in Derbyshire unless things were irrevocably finished between her and Frank, she said, “Yes. It would be lovely to see you. I am certain that Elise and the Duke would enjoy seeing you as well.”
“Perhaps we will see each other at Devonshire House.”
“Perhaps we will.”
“Goodbye until then, Miss Edwards. I will see myself out.”
~~*
Sophie was beside herself with joy on Saturday evening when she, Frank, Elise, Aunt Clarice, and Sukey arrived at Devonshire House. She had never met the Duke, of course, and found him to be a loud and friendly man. As he stood greeting his guests in the sumptuous music room, he kissed Sukey enthusiastically on both cheeks, his eyes alight. Sophie had heard that Devonshire had entertained a tendre for the tiny lady even though she had declined his marriage proposal.
“And how does Henry Five?” he asked of the tortoise he had given her.
“You must come and visit him. It has been far too long since he has seen you. Now, allow me to introduce my special friends, who are particular admirers of Mr. Wordsworth.”
The duke cordially welcomed Frank and Sophie, kissing her knuckles as she raised her hand to his. Their party moved to find seats in the mirrored room. There were perhaps twenty chairs, but the poet was nowhere to be seen.
When they had seated themselves, Frank took possession of her hand. Sophie pulled it slowly back, looking up at him. “Remember your engagement. These people surely will.”
To Sophie’s surprise, Shrewsbury entered with Lady Melissa on his arm. If he had intended her to be mortified by the sight of her fiancé with Sophie, he was disappointed. She came over to them immediately.
“Sophie! Is this not exciting! Our favorite poet. I never thought to see him in the flesh.”
“Yes, dear Melissa, this is a treat, indeed!”
A few mo
ments later, a hush came over the small assembly as the duke entered in the company of a distinguished-looking gentleman with a noble profile, cleft chin, and thinning brown hair. His face was set in serious lines. There was no doubt in Sophie’s mind that this was the poet.
He sat down in the chair provided for him, holding in his lap the same book of poetry that sat on Sophie’s night stand.
The duke said, “It is my pleasure to introduce the distinguished poet Mr. William Wordsworth, who has granted my humble request to honor a few of my friends with a reading of his poetry. Mr. Wordsworth …”
There followed hearty applause. Then the poet began, his voice quite ordinary but curiously moving:
My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky;
So was it when my life began;
So it is now I am a man;
So be it when I shall grow old,
Or let me die!
The Child is father of the Man;
And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.
Sophie found that the poet’s inflection lent more to the meaning of the poem than she had supposed. “Bound each to each” clearly referred to the visual ends of the rainbow, natural piety, a reference to the evidence of God in that rainbow. And this, she knew, was the child that was the father to that Ode, “ Intimations of Immortality,” that was so dear to her and Frank.
As he began that next, Frank took her hand and brought it to his lips, then held it in his lap. She did not take it away. The world, at that moment, contained only them and the poet’s voice. Sophie’s heart was singing.
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight
To me did seem
Apparelled in celestial light …
It was not until she was leaving Devonshire House, her arm securely tucked in Frank’s, that she saw Melissa and remembered reality. After the sublime evening with Frank so near, she knew she simply could not bear for him to marry her closest friend.
{ 38 }
FRANK RETURNED home from the reading in a mixed state of feelings. The poetry had elated him, and having Sophie so near had made his blood run wild in his veins in accompaniment.
How could he possibly marry Melissa?
Lying awake past dawn, he restlessly considered impossible schemes, but all of them would tarnish Melissa and Sophie. His frustration was so great that he rose at nine a.m. without having slept. The only remaining path left to him was to go to Oaksey and explain their situation, tell him the amount of Melissa’s dowry, and tell him he had a clear field to offer for her. It might not work. Oaksey might not want what Frank did not value.
Breakfasting at Brook’s, he waited impatiently for the hour to reach eleven o’clock, the earliest possible hour that the ton would receive morning callers. Having previously obtained the man’s direction and sending up a prayer to Providence, he took a hackney to Oaksey’s rooms on Half Moon Street.
“I’m here to see Lord Oaksey,” he told the man’s valet, handing him his card.
“I am afraid his lordship is not at home,” the man said.
Frank felt disinclined to accept this answer after a sleepless night.
“Pray tell me when he will return.”
The valet appeared to consider. “I am afraid I could not say. It might be a week, but then again it might be two.”
Frank lost his patience. Word was that Oaksey was badly dipped. “Devil take it! I’m not here to dun him!”
The valet took umbrage, and viscount or no, he closed the door in Frank’s face.
Returning home, Frank was inclined to think he had lost his last chance. After sitting in his library, staring at his bookshelves for an indeterminate period of time, he set off for his club once more in extremely low spirits.
When he saw Lord Donald Aldridge’s face light up at his entrance, he nearly turned and walked back out.
“Lord Trowbridge,” the excited young man said, bearing a wide grin and sparkling eyes.”Let us take a stroll. I have news I think will interest you.”
Taken aback, Frank allowed Lord Donald to steer him back out through the club’s front door. When they had advanced only a matter of five hundred feet, he said, “This morning at breakfast, there was a note from my sister. You’ll never guess what she has done! Eloped to Scotland with that Oaksey bloke! You are off the hook!”
Frank closed his eyes and felt himself sway a bit. He took a deep breath.
Free, Free, I am Free! Then a horrible thought. “Your father did not take after them?”
“Are you joking? Oaksey is an earl. You’re only a viscount!”
Frank took off his beaver hat, tossing it in the air with a cry of victory. Clapping Lord Donald’s shoulder, he said, “You are a splendid chap!”
Sleeplessness vanished, Frank stepped out in the street to hail a hackney.
{ 39 }
SOPHIE WAS MASSAGING HER KNEE when Sally came into her dressing room. “Pardon me, miss, but Lord Trowbridge is below stairs. Mr. Perkins said how I was to tell you that it’s urgent.”
She had not slept well and found herself hoping that Frank was perhaps here with some hare-brained scheme to carry her off. She straightened her gown, looked briefly in the mirror to assure herself that her coiffure was intact, then scurried down to the morning room.
When she entered, Frank turned around and she stopped dead. His eyes were alight, his face wreathed in smiles.
“Yes, I will elope with you,” she said. “I do not care what anyone thinks. If you can bear the censure, then so can I!”
He stepped quickly to her and kissed her soundly. “No need, my love. It is Lady Melissa who has eloped. With Oaksey. He would seem to be her true love. And earl, you know. Her father is said to be pleased.”
Before the words could do more than startle her, Frank had picked her up and was twirling her around the room, singing, “What shall we do with a drunken sailor? What shall we do with a drunken sailor? Earlay in the morning …”
Into this lively scene stepped Buck, recently returned from Kent. “It is you who are drunk, Frank. Put the gel down.”
Sophie had been about to join in the ditty, finally comprehending that her fate was wholly changed. Instead, she ran to Buck and kissed his cheek. “Tell Fan! Frank and I can get married, after all! Melissa has eloped with Lord Oaksey! An earl, you know. Her father is said to be pleased.”
Buck grasped Sophie in an enthusiastic hug. “Drunken sailor, indeed!”
He went off up the stairs, whistling the sea ditty.
Sophie’s eyes welled with happy tears. “I cannot believe it, Frank. I have been quite melancholy, thinking there could be no way we could be together!
“I will obtain a special license,” he said. “We can be married tomorrow if we like.”
Sophie summoned a stern look. “While that should be very agreeable, I would like a terribly long honeymoon, and you are forgetting my musicale. The invitations have gone out and the Carstairs are counting on me.”
“I have always wanted to be married by special license,” he replied firmly. “So we shall simply marry and leave the day after your concert.”
“Leave for where?”
“That is my secret,” Frank said, kissing her forehead.
Fanny must have flown down the stairs. Her hug and ecstatic cry of “Sophie, I am thrilled!” finally penetrated Sophie’s heart.
It is really happening! I really am going to marry Frank! Our dream is really coming true!
{ 40 }
THE NEXT WEEK FLEW BY with rehearsals in the morning, fittings for her wedding gown, packing for her honeymoon, and as many properly chaperoned visits with Frank as could be managed.
Sophie continued her prescribed exercises and massages and found that they pained her less as time went on. Walking also pained her less.
One night, Fanny hosted a dinner, including Elise and Peter as well as Frank. With her fam
ily around the table, toasting her and Frank, Sophie said, “I am beginning to feel like this marriage actually is going to take place.”
“Welcome to the family, Frank,” the duke said. “Hanford Hall will make a wonderful home for you and Sophie and your children. I enjoyed our visit there.”
“We are planning on a houseful,” Frank said. “You know how much Sophie loves children.”
Sophie felt herself blush. “I will still be a doting aunt,” she said. “I promise.”
Buck asked, “Has anyone heard from Lady Hatchet?”
“I have,” Sophie said quietly. “She does not plan to come up for the wedding, fortunately.”
“Yes, that is a very good thing,” Elise said. “But what reason did she give?”
Sophie smiled and put a hand over Frank’s as he sat next to her, “Frank is a mere viscount, so she does not see that it is necessary for her to bestir herself.”
“You cannot realize how lucky you are, Frank,” the duke said. “Fortunately, Elise and I eloped to Scotland.”
“And our wedding was also a spur of the moment thing,” Buck said. He winked at Fanny, seated at the other end of the table.
Frank raised his glass. “I propose a toast to the Edwards ladies, who are all beautiful, graceful, good-tempered, and warm-hearted in spite of their hair-raising upbringing!”
“Hear, hear,” echoed Buck and Peter.
~~*
As Sophie lay in bed the night before her concert, she thought how lucky she was that her sisters had insisted she come to London. She would have dwindled into an old maid in Derbyshire. And how fortunate that someone as worldly wise as Frank would see any merit in her person and fall deeply in love with her in so short a time. Though London still overwhelmed her, she would feel less so when her knee was less painful and more flexible. And she could not wait for her musicale the next evening. Performing was a new pleasure, a wonderful harvest time for the talent she had worked so hard to acquire.
And the very next day, she would be married in St. George’s at Hanover Square, with only her family, including her nieces and nephew, present. The idea sent a shiver of pleasure through her. In no time at all, she would be Frank’s wife. She would sleep in his bed and give him children. How very blessed she was!
Three Original Ladies 02 - Lord Trowbridge’s Angel Page 17
