by Sara Bennett
He turned to follow the Marquis but suddenly Oscar was there, pushing through the crowd, and in his wake came Evelyn. She stopped beside Adam, staring at the scene white faced. Just for a moment their eyes locked before they both looked away. There was a steely determination in her expression. Though it was too late to stop what was to come, it was good to know they were both in this together.
“What is all this?” Oscar’s face was red with rage, now only inches from his own. His nostrils flared like a bull’s and he was clenching his fists at his sides. “Who is this woman?”
The Marquis tried to intervene, to once again lead them away, but Oscar would have none of it.
Adam spoke up. “They aren’t married,” he said. “At least … you didn’t marry her, did you Harry? You bloody fool, I told you not to!”
“She’s the daughter of one of my father’s tenant farmers,” Harry said, sounding as shaken as he felt. “Surely, you can understand,” he went on, blandly meeting Oscar’s enraged glare. “You’re a man of the world, Albury. One does these things but it doesn’t mean anything. I am marrying Evelyn.”
“He did marry me!” the woman burst out, tears on her cheeks. God, she was an outstanding actress. He hoped Adam was paying her well.
“Rubbish,” he said, standing firm.
Her voice wavered and despite knowing it was all lies, Harry found himself feeling sorry for her. She was that good. “There was a man who said he was a priest, and we spoke vows. Harry knew I wouldn’t lay with him if he didn’t marry me. I told him so. He-he said he loved me!”
Evelyn took out a lace handkerchief and put it to her eyes. “Oh Harry,” she cried accusingly. Oscar didn’t shift his gaze from Harry. The man was literally vibrating with rage.
“Rubbish,” Harry countered. “There was no priest, just someone I paid to play the part. I’m not that much of a fool,” he added with a cocky grin to infuriate Oscar even more.
Evelyn gave a sob, and even the well-mannered Marquis stared at him in disgust. Oscar spoke a foul word rarely heard in polite society, and drew back his fist.
The next thing Harry knew he was on the ground. Adam was shouting, pulling Oscar away, but not before he got several more blows in. When he finally saw through the fog in his brain, Evelyn’s eyes were as large as saucers, and the woman with the baby was watching with the satisfaction of a job well done.
“You will not come near my sister again,” Oscar was saying through clenched teeth. “You foul scum. You bounder. You don’t deserve to be in the same room as her. Your engagement is null and void as of this moment!”
It was exactly what he had wanted to hear. Harry reminded himself of that as he slumped back into the lush grass, hanging on to consciousness by a thread.
Thank God, he thought.
Adam put a hand on his shoulder, frowning at the blood running from his nose. “Hope this was worth it,” he heard his brother murmur, as he started to haul him to his feet.
Harry was in a coach now and Adam was once more peering into his face.
“How are you feeling?” he asked. “You look terrible.”
“Thank you,” he mumbled. “My face hurts.”
“I’m not surprised. There isn’t much of it left unbruised. I wonder if he broke your nose?”
“Feels like it.” Then, trying to pull himself together. “Did you see Evelyn?”
“Only briefly. She looked as shattered as one would expect.”
“As long as Oscar blames me for it, she should be safe from him,” Harry said, and took Adam’s handkerchief to wipe his bloody nose. It had dripped down onto his shirt and he grimaced at the sight. “I know you said we had to make it believable but …”
“What? You said it had to be good. You should be thanking me, brother.”
Harry eyed him blearily. “A baby?”
“Belongs to one of the girls at the Masque. I thought it was a nice touch. Proves you have been unfaithful for longer than a week or two. You’re not to be trusted, Harry!”
Harry groaned.
Adam leaned back in his seat. “What about when Father hears about this? He’ll want you to come home so that he can tear strips off you.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Harry said. “Not until I talk to Sophy.”
“What were you two talking about before I arrived?” Adam asked curiously. “It looked quite intense.”
“She told me that James was going to ask her to marry him,” Harry said.
Adam took this in. “But he hasn’t yet?”
“No. I need to see her before he does. I need to explain I am not a bigamist, and persuade her to take another chance on me. There’s no time to waste. Take me home and clean me up, and then we have to go to this grandmother of hers in Lambeth.”
Harry would crawl on his hands and knees all the way to Lambeth if he had to.
“I understand why you don’t want to waste time,” Adam said. “All the same, if you don’t jump to father’s tune you might lose Pendleton. Would you risk that?”
Would he? All his life he had looked forward to taking over Pendleton from his father and carrying on the Baillieu tradition. But if he lost Sophy then Pendleton would mean nothing to him. It would be a hollow victory to have the house and the estate, and not the woman he loved.
“Yes,” he said. He closed his eyes against the throbbing of his head. “I will.”
Chapter 27
SOPHY
That woman’s words still rang in Sophy’s ears. After the appalling scene on the east lawn, gossip was flying. James had drawn Sophy away and she had not seen the Earl of Albury punch Harry in the face, or declare the engagement between Harry and Evelyn null and void, but she soon heard about it.
Guests huddled into groups, each full of news. Some had already left, eager to spread their gossip far and wide. A few curious glances were cast her way, and she wondered if her dancing with Harry only moments before would have consequences for her reputation.
It seemed the thought had occurred to James as well. “Let us hope no one thinks you were involved.”
In silence they went to find Mrs Harding. Sophy’s legs were shaking. Harry had told her he loved her and to wait for him. She was certain that he had meant to warn her of what was about to happen. Did that mean it wasn’t real? That the poor woman and her baby weren’t genuine? If only that were true. Sophy swallowed the lump in her throat.
“I am surprised,” James said as they walked. “I had not thought Harry Baillieu the sort of man to lie and cheat and ruin a woman’s life.”
She took a deep breath. “I had not thought that either. Maybe he’s changed.” she added with a glance his way, to see if he was as unconvinced as she.
James shook his head. “You don’t believe that, Sophy. I don’t think you could love a man who would do those things. What was he saying to you while you were dancing?” And he eyed her curiously. “I assume he was trying to persuade you that wasn’t your final dance together?”
Tears now filled her eyes. “He was. He said he loved me and he always had.”
“Did he?” James’s eyebrows lifted. “Left it a bit late to bare his soul. Was that all?”
“He said I should wait.” She gave him another sideways glance.
“Wait?”
“He didn’t want me to go to your estate with you. He wanted me to wait, but he didn’t say why or for what. James, I think he did it on purpose. I think it was all planned. Adam spoke to me, just before the woman started shouting. He said Harry was being heroic.”
“Heroic?” James scoffed.
“Yes. And Harry said something I remembered, from our past. It reminded me that when he was a boy he was always protecting Adam. I lost count of the number of times he was thrashed instead of his brother, even though he was innocent of the misdemeanours. Just now he was willing to take his punishment from Evelyn’s brother but it wasn’t because he had done anything wrong. Do you see?”
James continued to stare at her for a moment and the
n suddenly his face cleared. “Baillieu was protecting Evelyn. It was staged. Baillieu has broken his engagement in a way that will save Evelyn’s reputation but destroy his own.”
“And Adam and Harry have always been close. I can’t imagine Adam allowing today to happen on purpose, unless it was on purpose.” She grasped his arm so tightly it probably hurt. “Sir Arbuthnot will be furious.”
Harry’s words returned to her, reminding her again of that long ago day in the study at Pendleton, her hiding under the desk and Harry’s stoic silence as his father thrashed him with the cane for something he hadn’t done. Harry was long past being thrashed by his father but Sir Arbuthnot would still try to wound him in other ways. Bully him into doing as he was told. Lie. She shuddered.
James gave her a little shake to gain her attention. “He did it for you,” he said. “He let Oscar hit him and turned himself into food for the gossips. For you.”
Sophy felt the colour drain from her face.
“He told you he loved you and to wait. Sophy, he did it for you. A last heroic throw of the dice.”
“It wasn’t goodbye after all,” she whispered.
She glanced at James and saw him watching her. “Evelyn will be free too,” he said, as if he’d read her mind.
“Yes,” she agreed.
“She must have known about Baillieu’s plan. He wouldn’t have put her in that awful position without talking to her about it first.” His face brightened. “She knew, Sophy, and she went along with it so that she and Harry could be free.”
“Can you ask her again, James?” Sophy said, eyes shining. “Perhaps she wants you too?”
But the light had gone out. “You’re forgetting what happened before. She thinks I lied to her. I hurt her and she doesn’t trust me. Oscar will make certain she never hears my side of the story, and if I try to see her then he’ll have me beaten. Again.”
“If she knew her brother was threatening you like that, surely she would see—”
He broke in before she could finish. “Evelyn would be in danger too, if she stood up to him. No, Sophy, no matter how much I might want it to work, I know it can’t.”
“Do you really believe that?” she insisted.
“Whether I do or not, I would never do anything to risk Evelyn. Better she spends her life without me than suffers because I am too selfish to let her go.”
Sophy wanted to groan in frustration. James was being very noble and she understood why, really she did, but she wished he would be less noble and take a risk. If she was Evelyn then she would prefer him to take a chance, rather than step aside and leave her to live her life without him.
“Before you danced with Baillieu I was going to ask you … That is, I was wondering if you and I might make a go of it, Sophy. But now I think we should wait. Baillieu probably has another plan up his sleeve, and I …” He shrugged.
“You think you may try and win Evelyn around after all?” she said with a pleased smile. “I hope you do, James.”
“You’re a romantic,” he mocked gently. “I wish I believed love could conquer all, but I don’t. Not anymore.”
“Sophy!” Mrs Harding was hurrying toward them, momentarily forgetting herself and almost running. Sophy could see she had heard the news and braced herself for what was to come. “Sophy, I have heard the most alarming report.”
“Mrs Harding,” James stepped in front of her, and began to talk about the beautiful grounds, distracting her for a moment.
Sophy tried not to smile as her chaperone struggled between the need to be polite and her desperate urge to ask her charge what had happened. Charlotte slipped an arm through Sophy’s and Lucy leaned close on her other side. “Don’t worry about Mama,” she whispered.
“Was it true that Mr Baillieu had a baby?” Charlotte asked, wide-eyed.
Lucy snorted a laugh.
Thankfully Sophy didn’t have to answer, because their mother had finally escaped James and was announcing it was time to go, chivvying them toward their carriage.
James bowed over her hand before she climbed up the steps and inside. “I will be travelling to my estate tomorrow but I will call on you in the morning to say goodbye,” he said. “Goodnight, Sophy.”
“Goodnight, James.”
Mrs Harding overheard and once inside the carriage, her chaperone stared at her with a curious look in her eyes.
By now it was nearly seven o’clock but still light—these longer summer evenings stretched out—and the air was calm and balmy. It had been a delightful day … until it wasn’t.
The two girls were longing to gossip but their mother told them to hush. Sophy let the silence wash over her, sitting back and allowing her thoughts to take her where they willed.
She tried to imagine Harry, her Harry, doing the things that woman had accused him of, and couldn’t. He was not that man. He had put himself into that awful position to set himself and Evelyn free. A last heroic throw of the dice. So what now? Would Harry hurry off to Pendleton to try to persuade his father to agree to his change of wedding plans? And while he was there, was Sophy expected to sit by the window, moping and waiting for him to come calling? Sophy didn’t think she could do that anymore. She had moved on from that girl.
By the time they reached her grandmother’s home in Lambeth she was exhausted.
Mrs Harding hurried them inside. Not only was her grandmother there in the parlour, but so was Sir Geoffrey. They both looked up, and Sir Geoffrey stood, blinking in the lamplight as if he had been dozing.
Mrs Harding launched into a dramatic speech and the first thing she said was, “I told Sophy not to dance the waltz!”
“Sophy danced the waltz?” Susan turned to look at Sophy, and there was that twinkle in her eye. “With James Abbott?”
“No, with Harry Baillieu. And there is going to be the most appalling scandal and I fear Sophy will be caught up in it.”
There was a shocked silence, and then her chaperone began to talk. Sophy wasn’t sure whether it was because Mrs Harding had never liked her, or because she thought Sophy had compromised her own daughters’ reputations. Whatever the reason, Mrs Harding told the tale with relish. How Sophy had waltzed with Harry, and then how Harry’s ‘wife’ arrived with their child. And he hadn’t denied any of the shocking claims she made against him.
“I’m sure if her reputation has been ruined then I cannot be blamed,” she finally drew to a close. “And furthermore—”
Sir Geoffrey held up his hand. “Is Harry Baillieu still engaged to Lady Evelyn?” he asked.
“I believe not,” she said. “The Earl of Albury broke the contract between them rather publicly … after he punched Harry Baillieu in the face.”
Susan gasped. “Where was James while all of this was going on? I was so sure that he was going to propose to you.”
Sophy went to answer but Mrs Harding was there before her. “He said he would call on her in the morning to say goodbye.”
If her grandmother was disappointed she soon moved on. “Do you think Sophy’s reputation might suffer? Her dancing the waltz with Harry?” she asked, exchanging a look with Sir Geoffrey.
Mrs Harding gave an unladylike snort.
“I think,” Sir Geoffrey said robustly, “that everyone will be so busy talking about Harry that Sophy will hardly get a mention.”
By the time Mrs Harding finally left with her daughters, Sophy was dying to put her side of the story.
“Grandma, it isn’t true. Well, not the way Mrs Harding told it. Harry arranged for that woman to appear so that he could break his engagement. He did it on purpose.”
Her grandmother stared at her as if she had run mad, and Sir Geoffrey poured himself a large claret. It took some persuading before the two elderly people believed her, and when they did they were divided about what it would mean for Sophy’s future.
“So will he be calling upon you in the morning?” Susan said. “If a man makes such a grand gesture, one would think he would call as soon as may be.”
“A gentleman might consider it wiser to stay away. At least for a respectable number of days,” Sir Geoffrey spoke up. “Bad enough that he is at the centre of a scandal, but to draw you into it, Sophy. I would not like to see that.”
“I don’t know what he’s going to do,” Sophy admitted.
“What if he asks you to wait for another three years?” Sir Geoffrey asked sombrely.
She shook her head. “No. I-I can’t. I just can’t.”
After she’d gone up to bed, Susan knocked softly on her door. Her grandmother launched into a speech she had obviously been preparing before she came upstairs.
“Sophy my dear, I think you must not rush into anything with Harry Baillieu. Sir Geoffrey is right. Whether intentionally or not, the man’s reputation is ruined beyond repair, and any contact you have with him will only tarnish yours too. Whatever was he thinking to do something so drastic?”
“He was freeing himself from an engagement in the only way he could without sullying Lady Evelyn’s name,” Sophy reminded her. “He was taking all the blame. He was being a hero. And he was doing it for me.”
“You seem to know him so well,” her grandmother sighed. “Is he really still the same boy he was then? People change, Sophy. I am worried that he is going to break your heart again.”
Sophy didn’t want to say so, but despite Harry’s grand gesture, she was worried about the same thing.
“You might think I took a risk by agreeing to be Sir Geoffrey’s mistress after your grandfather died, and I suppose I did. I am telling you this so that you know I understand some risks are worth taking. But, my dear, you have already risked your happiness once on this man and he let you down. James Abbott is a good man, a kind man, and he will look after you as you deserve.”
