Lady Hope and the Duke of Darkness: The Baxendale Sisters Book 3
Page 8
“I am not at all offended,” Hope said quietly. “Lady Sophie is refreshingly honest. I value that in a person.”
“Quite right. I feel duly reprimanded and must apologize,” he said with a smile.
“Oh dear, now I have offended you, Your Grace,” Hope said, unconcernedly smiling back at him.
“I doubt you could ever offend me, Lady Hope.”
He tightened the reins captivated by the playful light glimpsed in Hope’s eyes before she lowered the brim of her hat.
Sophie silently watched them with a shrewd look; he would be required to fend off her questions when they reached home. Couldn’t a man indulge in a little harmless flirting? Perhaps Sophie had yet to understand the way things were done. He nudged his horse into a canter. Leaving the ladies to their conversation, he rode to the stables. He reminded himself how he needed to cool his ardor with a woman. But for some reason, he couldn’t spur himself on to arrange it.
He didn’t have long to wait. After he and Sophie left Hope at her family home in Adam’s Row, they walked the two blocks to his house, and the conversation turned to Hope, as he knew it would.
Sophie cast him a skeptical glance and shook her head. He sighed. She refused to accept his explanation that the ton did a lot of harmlessness flirting. “Daniel, you care for her.”
“I like and admire Hope a great deal,” he said, imbuing his voice with insouciance and trusting this would end the discussion, which he wasn’t enjoying. “She will soon marry the Duke of Winslow. And I will return to France. Which is better for all concerned.” He glanced at Sophie. “Particularly when I find you a suitable husband.”
She raised her chin in that stubborn way she had. “I shall select my own husband, thank you.”
He nodded. “I’m in agreement. But from a list that I provide.”
Sophie didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. The stiffening resistance in every line of her body revealed her emotions. She would change her mind when she met the right man.
He frowned. He had yet to fill that list.
Chapter Ten
When Charity had expressed a wish to visit an exhibition of J.M.W. Turner’s paintings held at the Egyptian Hall in Piccadilly, Hope invited Sophie to join them.
The amazing building was designed like an Egyptian temple. They had to pass through two enormous columns and statuary to enter.
“One feels that one is about to enter the land of the Pharaohs,” Sophie said as they paid their shilling.
The interior was equally impressive, with more round columns, carved relief decorations on the ceiling, and walls painted with the Egyptian motifs of papyrus, lilies and lotus flowers.
With a crow of delight, Charity hurried to examine the painted canvasses hanging around the walls.
“Daniel expressed a wish to see the exhibition. I believe he might join us,” Sophie said as she and Hope trailed after Charity.
Hope’s heart gave an annoying flutter.
Charity stopped before a dramatic work depicting a ship swept against rocks in a violent storm. “The way Turner interprets the destructive power of nature…the sublime,” she murmured. “Awe-inspiring.” She wandered farther out of earshot.
Hope preferred a quieter painting of Caernarvon Castle in the golden light of early morn. She was leaning forward to examine the work more closely when a deep voice behind her made her take an unsteady breath. Daniel, as she now thought of him. Even when he wasn’t standing before her, his face haunted her, whether smiling, serious, or thoughtful. He looked far too handsome in his dark greatcoat, a brass-topped cane and his hat in his hands. His welcoming smile, although it encompassed the three of them, seemed intimately meant for her.
“You approve of this painting, Lady Hope?”
Her heart turned over in response to the warm tone of his voice. “I like the way the artist handles light. It’s peaceful. Beautiful.”
“I have a similar one in my house in Ham,” he said. “I wish you could see it. It’s magnificent. I intend to take Sophie there before I leave for France.”
She would never see his home. She’d been basking in the warmth of his smile and turned suddenly cold. What was she doing forming an affection for this man? It went against common sense to want him. He’d be gone before she knew it.
Hope walked with Sophie and Daniel through the huge room, as Sophie examined the Egyptian hieroglyphs.
“It’s well done, but with a good deal of poetic license, I suspect. Ancient Egypt is fascinating.” Sophie sighed. “I want to learn all I can.”
“You spend your days at the museum now,” Daniel said. “Your knowledge must be extensive.”
“I need firsthand knowledge. I want to go to Egypt.”
“I believe it is very hot in Egypt,” Charity commented, as she wandered past them.
Sophie’s eyes glowed. “Yes, but to view the Pyramids and the sphinxes, we have little in England to rival them.”
Daniel frowned. “Perhaps you might find more at the London Library.”
Sophie moved away with a shrug of her shoulders.
Suddenly alone with Daniel, the air around them seemed to still. “Do you plan to leave for France soon?” Hope felt compelled to ask.
“There are matters here to detain me.”
“I see.” Her tongue traced her bottom lip.
His gaze settled on her mouth.
Hot flutters batted at her belly; while she pondered the possibility that he might want her—and what it would be like if he were to kiss her.
“Turner is quite the best artist I have seen,” Charity said behind them.
Daniel’s gaze remained on Hope. “When you ladies have taken your fill of these wonderful paintings, I shall take you to tea.”
Her heart still beating fast, Hope gave a tremulous smile. “Thank you, Your Grace. But I’m not sure how we’ll manage to entice Charity away.”
Once she was home again, Hope relived that moment with Daniel in the Egyptian Hall repeatedly, the way his eyes had captured hers and caused tingles all down her body. Even though he made no move to engage her, she was helplessly drawn to him as a moth to a flame, and it left her frustrated and confused. Her attempts to come to grips with it, to employ reason, failed, and on Saturday evening, she couldn’t tamp down the excitement at seeing him again.
She and her parents alighted from their carriage in front of Daniel’s five-storied townhouse. “It’s impressive don’t you think?” she asked her mother, who had volubly expressed her strong aversion to attending on the way there.
Her father escorted them to the door. “If my affairs continue to prosper, I shall purchase a Mayfair property like this.”
Her mother, at least, was in a better mood when she graciously greeted Daniel in his drawing room.
His dark brown eyes softened when he looked at Hope, making her feel shy. There was something different about him tonight. He was impeccably dressed as usual in a brocade tailcoat and dark trousers, the silver striped waistcoat buttoned tight over his wide chest, his dark hair falling in soft waves from a broad brow. Yet he was different. When he smiled into her eyes, she thought she knew. Was it absurd to believe the shadow she’d always felt was there had vanished?
After acquaintances claimed her parents’ attention, she went to speak to Sophie, who immediately drew Hope into a corner.
“You look so pretty, Hope. You always do but especially in primrose.”
“Thank you. And that color is perfect for you.”
Sophie brushed a hand over the beaded bodice of her turkey-red gown trimmed with gold. “I had to fight Mrs. Crisp to have this made. She is most dreadfully straight-laced and would have me forever dressed in white if she had her way. I am not a young débutante, and I don’t wish to look like one.”
Hope smiled. “You are elegant and fashionable.”
“I’ve begun to feel more at home in London. Especially since I met a nice man, a Mr. Braithwaite.”
“I don’t believe I know him.”
“Daniel is right to do so. You are a duke’s daughter and considered fair game by fortune hunters.”
“But that’s nonsense. I have no personal fortune. In fact, I should feel more comfortable married to a man from the gentry. Or even a farmer.”
Horrified, Hope glanced around. “You must not say such things.”
“Why not? It’s true.” Sophie glanced to where Daniel stood, engaged in conversation at the far end of the room. “Will you come to my bedroom for a moment? I wish to show you my new hat.”
Surprised, Hope nodded.
Daniel watched them as they left the room. Hope was sure her parents also watched them. It was bad manners to leave the gathering, but she was not about to point it out to Sophie, whom she suspected was of a determined nature. They climbed the broad, sweeping staircase and entered Sophie’s bedroom, decorated in shades of pink from deep raspberry to the palest hue.
Hope ran an appreciative eye over the exquisite furnishings. Charity would approve of the color scheme.
“Come and sit here.” Sophie directed Hope to a satin-covered sofa. “I want to tell you a story.” Sophie sat beside her. “I grew up on a farm—” she began.
Stunned, Hope interrupted her. “A farm? But why?”
Hope listened with increasing dismay as Sophie related her life story: how her mother had died giving birth to her and her father had relinquished any claim to her. She bit back tears at the hurt in Sophie’s voice. “His Grace? What did he know of it?”
“He was away at school. The duke did not see fit to tell him.”
“I can hardly believe your father could be so cruel.”
She patted Hope’s hand. “I have shocked you. But in truth, I wasn’t unhappy as a child. My adopted parents were kind to me. I was fed and clothed, as the duke did send them money.”
“Still!”
Sophie shrugged. “I’m well educated for a farmer’s daughter. In a way, it was harder for me to fit into life in York than it is here.”
Hope thought that likely. Despite her humble upbringing, Sophie had the proud bearing of a French aristocrat. “Is that why you came to London?”
“After my parents died, I was alone. To find my only living relative seemed the right thing to do.”
“And so His Grace took you in.”
“As you see.” Sophie waved her arm to encompass the luxurious room. “He has been wonderful. And he has promised to settle me in London society before he returns to France.”
Hope’s breath caught in her lungs. Was Daniel returning to France without Sophie? How could he turn his back on her as his father had done? She could hardly believe it of him.
“I am telling you this, Hope, because I trust you.”
Disenchantment filled her mind with sour thoughts. “I am honored, Sophie. I shall keep your secret.”
“Daniel wanted you to know the truth.”
For a moment, Hope felt inordinately pleased, and then she swallowed the bitter taste of disappointment. Daniel seemed such an affectionate brother. How could he desert his newly found sister?
Sophie shrugged her slim shoulders. “The truth will be discovered sooner or later. The scandal sheets and gossipers will spread it through the ton. Now that I am here in London, it cannot remain secret.”
“There is nothing for you to fear or be ashamed of. Should it become common knowledge, I believe there will be a great deal of sympathy for you.”
Sophie’s laugh sounded bitter. “Do you think so? Hopefully, by then, I shall be married and it won’t bother me.”
“That would be best, certainly.” A wealthy husband’s protection would be the ideal thing for Sophie.
“But I may need your help,” Sophie said.
“Of course. What is it?”
“It’s about Mr. Braithwaite. Horace.” Sophie flushed as she said his given name. “We wish to meet, and for the moment, it must be in secret. I may need to use you as an excuse.” Her eyes glowed with determination.
Emotionally drained after learning about Sophie’s misfortune, Hope rushed to dissuade her. “But, Sophie…do you really think…?” She reached for Sophie’s hand and squeezed it. “Dan…His Grace, rather, is obviously fond of you. Can you really consider repaying him in this fashion?”
Sophie’s flush faded, leaving her face pale. “I can because it’s the best thing for him. Daniel is at a loss to know what to do with me. He plans to buy me property, settle a handsome dowry on me and marry me off to some lord or other. But I know I wouldn’t be happy.”
“Where did you meet Mr. Braithwaite?”
“In room four at the British Museum—the Egyptian exhibition. Mr. Braithwaite works there. Mrs. Crisp always settles in a chair in the foyer and promptly falls asleep while I wander the rooms. He approached me as I stared in awe at the bust of Ramesses II, the Younger Memnon. It quite mesmerizes, have you been there, Hope? Mr. Braithwaite was good enough to explain to me the history of such a splendid, virile king.” She blushed. “We discovered a shared interest in antiquities.”
Was he a guard or a cleaner? Horrified, Hope sucked in a breath. She could well see why Daniel would be against the union, but she had to remind herself that Sophie was not a girl straight out of the schoolroom. She had far more experience of life than Hope did.
“We shall talk more about it later.” Hope hated the idea of going behind Daniel’s back. “We must return to the drawing room. We’ll have been missed.”
They met Daniel on the stairs. “What have you two been up to?” he asked with a pleased smile.
Sophie took his arm. “Ladies enjoy a good natter. Now I shall go and charm your guests.”
Daniel chuckled. “You may certainly, but first, I shall try to persuade Lady Hope to play for us. The instrument was brought from France, and no one has stroked the keys in a long time. Say you will agree, Lady Hope.”
Hope clutched the cool banister rail. She had only played at family parties, never before such a large gathering of the upper aristocracy. Countess Lieven and her husband were there. With a rush of exhilaration coupled with nervous flutters, she consented.
Daniel led her to the pianoforte. “Do you have something in mind?” she asked him.
“You may choose from the music sheets if you wish. Shall I turn the pages for you?”
“I don’t require the music. I’ll play Mozart’s Piano Sonata No. 16 in C major.” She’d played this piece recently. She massaged her trembling fingers.
Daniel turned to his guests. “Ladies and gentleman, Lady Hope has consented to play for us.”
He left her. Curtsying to acknowledge the polite applause, Hope took the seat and began to play. Her confidence grew. This was a favorite piece and sounded wonderful on the fine pianoforte. As the room quieted, she almost lost herself in the music.
****
Arms folded, Daniel stood watching Hope. She bent her golden head like a graceful lily, her yellow silk gown flowing around her slim body. Her clever fingers flew over the keys as she played. The music swelled through the room. Everyone was silent, captivated. Lady Baxendale sat flushed with justifiable pride for her beautiful, accomplished daughter. He smiled at Sophie, who raised her brows. Somewhere in the region of his heart a warm knot formed, as if Hope was his to be proud of. An unaccountable restlessness came over him. He straightened and took a glass of wine from the footman. At least his plan seemed to have succeeded. Sophie and Hope were friends. He was confident that his half-sister would settle into London society, and all that remained was for him to find a suitable husband for her.
The last chords died away as Hope finished the piece. Daniel put down his wineglass and joined the others’ warm applause. Hope, her pretty face flushed, returned to her parents’ side. Que diable, if he could wake up every morning with her beside him, w
ould his life become as he’d once wished it to be? The very thought tightened his chest. He still didn’t trust his sensibilities. He forced his mind back to when he’d been cast so low that he could barely rise from his bed, to remind himself of how unsuitable a husband he would be. Not that it mattered. She’d be married soon.
He pushed himself away from the wall and went to Hope, where the guests surrounded her. They parted at his approach.
Daniel kissed her hand. “Lady Hope, my congratulations. I believe you hide your light under a bushel.”
“That’s praise indeed, for which I thank you, Your Grace.”
There was something in her expression and her voice that gave him pause. Of course, Sophie had told her about his father’s cruelty. Did she now believe him to be cut from the same cloth?
As the guests began to depart, it became imperative that he discover what troubled her. When a chance came to speak to Hope alone, while her parents took their leave of friends, he grabbed it, taking her arm and drawing her into the reception hall. “Lady Hope’s evening cape, Gresham.”
The footman hurried away.
Daniel looked down at her. “I am pleased that you and Sophie are friends.”
Her brow creased with worry. “She will certainly need friends in London. It can be a lonely place otherwise.”
“Sophie told you her story.”
“Yes. I could hardly believe it. I am devastated for her.”
“There’s little one can do about the past.” He knew he sounded bitter.
Her level glance unnerved him. “But one must consider one’s future.”
“Who can say what fate has in store for us?”
“But until proven otherwise, we need to make plans. Our dreams certainly won’t come true if we don’t.”
“And what do you wish for your future, Lady Hope?”
“I was thinking more of Sophie.”
“In what manner?”
She smoothed her gloves. “I shall say no more, Your Grace. Thank you for inviting me to play. I enjoyed it.”