Sophie put one hand on her heart, feeling it quicken beneath her palm. She could not help but feel excited about her mother’s words, and she was more than aware that the kiss she had shared with Lord Crawford was an intimacy that spoke of a deep and lasting affection.
“I think you might wish to go and have a look over your dresses for tomorrow evening,” her mother suggested with a smile. “Ensure you pick it wisely, my dear. One never knows what will happen at a masquerade ball!”
4
Sophie scanned the crowd of guests, desperate to find the one mask she was looking for. Lord Crawford had sent her a short note – along with another bouquet of flowers – promising that he would come to find her at the masquerade ball, telling her that his mask would be rather small and mostly black so that she would not have any difficulty in spotting him.
As improper as it was, Sophie had replied with a detailed description of her own mask, a feathered creation that had two rather prominent peacock feathers at one side, and now she hoped that he would be looking for her with the same eagerness she did him.
“Will you stop that?” Juliette hissed, elbowing Sophie roughly. “You are being much too obvious.”
Sophie stepped away from her sister, glaring at her. “Lord Crawford and I are none of your business, Juliette. As Mama said, you ought to look to your own matters instead of being caught up with mine.”
Juliette, who had been given a severe talking to by their mother earlier that day, simply snorted in derision. “You know you should not wed before me, and yet you are determined to do so!”
“Father does not care which of us weds first,” Sophie returned, determined not to be quietened by Juliette’s harsh words. “I will not cease my attachment to Lord Crawford simply because you cannot find yourself a suitable gentleman to court you!”
With a screech of anger, Juliette stepped forward, her hand raised to strike Sophie, only for her mother to catch her hand and—with a hissed warning—force her to step back.
“I shall take you home this very instant, Juliette, if you so much as put a toe out of line again,” her mother said on a breath, pulling Juliette into the shadowy corners of the ballroom. “I will not have this jealousy between you and Sophie any longer, do you understand me?”
Juliette wrenched her arm from her mother’s grasp, and what Sophie could see of her face was red with anger.
“All men can have their heads turned, Sophie,” Juliette whispered, ignoring her mother entirely. “Do not think that Lord Crawford has any loyalty to you.”
Sophie made to answer, only for her mother to hold up one hand. “Enough,” she whispered, giving Juliette a slight shake. “You are now no longer attending the recital tomorrow evening, Juliette. Sophie may go, but you will not. It is high time you learned there are consequences for your behavior. You have been indulged for far too long.” As Juliette stamped her foot, in danger of making something of a scene, her mother ushered her from the room, leaving Sophie standing alone for a moment.
“My dear Lady Sophie,” said a voice in her ear, making her start with surprise. “Are you quite all right?”
Turning, Sophie forgot her upset in a moment, as none other than Lord Crawford stood in front of her, his mask barely hiding any of his features.
“Lord Crawford,” she exclaimed, her eyes twinkling. “I did not think your mask would be so…small!” It hid his eyes but nothing more, balancing delicately on the bridge of his nose as the silk ribbons held it in place.
“I told you that I wished to have you recognize me,” he replied with a smile. “As soon as I saw the peacock feathers, I knew it would be you hiding beneath that mask.” He glanced to where her mother and sister had gone, a slight frown on his face. “Are you sure you are quite all right?”
Thinking quickly, Sophie smiled and lifted one shoulder. “A torn hem; that is all,” she said, seeing his look of understanding. “They will be back in a moment.”
He smiled broadly. “Then you must allow me to sign my name on your dance card, my dear,” he murmured, reaching for her hand. “I will be the first, just as I hoped.”
His fingers touched hers, burning heat through her glove as he lifted it, before catching the dance card beneath. Sophie felt her heart beat with a sudden passion as he wrote his initials down before bending to kiss the palm of her hand. It was a delicate intimacy, speaking of devotion and affection, and as he raised his eyes to hers, Sophie knew she was blushing.
“You are truly a diamond of the first water,” he murmured, glancing over her shoulder to see her mother and sister returning. “I shall look forward to our first dance together.”
Sophie was forced then to step aside as her mother and sister greeted Lord Crawford. Juliette held out her dance card almost at once, but Sophie was relieved to see Lord Crawford write his initials down for only one dance, and even more happily, she saw it was not even a waltz.
“I look forward to dancing with you both,” Lord Crawford finished, bowing at the waist. “I should let you greet your other acquaintances – if you can recognize them that is!”
Laughing, Sophie bid him goodbye, keeping her eyes on his for as long as she could before she was forced to follow her mother.
Her first dance with Lord Crawford was as wonderful as she had hoped. They did, of course, have to take turns with other masked guests, but throughout the dance, she kept her eyes solely on his. There were secret smiles shared between them, a shared passion that only the two of them knew of. Sophie could not have been happier.
“I am afraid I must step away from you for a moment,” Lord Crawford murmured, as he led her from the dance floor. “Your sister’s dance is next.”
Sophie tried not to allow the sinking disappointment she felt wipe the smile from her face. “No, of course. I quite understand.”
“We have yet the waltz to look forward to,” Lord Crawford murmured, pressing her hand to his mouth for just a moment. “Do watch for me returning to you, my dear Sophie. I will not be long.”
Aware that she had no partner for this particular dance, Sophie made her way to the back of the ballroom, climbing the short staircase in search of some refreshment. A glass of ratafia was soon in her hand, and leaning on the balcony rail, Sophie contented herself with watching the dancers below. She would go back to the ballroom very soon, once the dance was over.
Try as she might, Sophie could not keep her gaze from her sister and Lord Crawford. Lord Crawford was, much to her surprise, smiling broadly at Juliette – something she had not expected. Juliette was laughing, her eyes bright behind her mask as she looked over at him. How much of a flirtatious nature she had! Sighing to herself, Sophie rolled her eyes and looked away, desperate for the dance to come to an end. She had hoped that Lord Crawford would not enjoy the dance, or at the very least, make it apparent that he did not particularly care for Juliette’s company, but it was not to be. Dragging her eyes back towards them, Sophie heard the music begin to come to an end, and much to her relief, Lord Crawford bowed towards Juliette, taking her arm and beginning to lead her from the floor.
But Juliette paused. She turned towards Lord Crawford, and leaning forward, murmured something in his ear. Lord Crawford straightened, as though horror struck, but as Sophie watched, Juliette looked into Lord Crawford’s face and said something quietly to him. There was a long pause, as Lord Crawford simply looked back at Juliette before glancing all around him.
Was he looking for her? Did he need her to come and pull him from her sister’s dastardly clutches?
About to rush down the staircase to his side, Sophie’s feet fixed firmly to the floor as she saw Lord Crawford nod, making Juliette smile with delight. She took his arm once more, and together, they made their way to the terrace at the back of the room.
“No,” Sophie whispered, her heart thundering wildly as Juliette stepped out onto the terrace, Lord Crawford just behind her. She knew all too well what went on in the gardens late at night and was trying desperately to believe that Lo
rd Crawford was not that kind of gentleman.
All men can have their heads turned.
Juliette’s harsh words echoed through Sophie’s mind, making her fingers tighten on the rail. With trembling limbs, she made her way slowly down the stairs, glad that her mask was hiding her stricken expression. She did not want to go outside, did not want to see what might very well be waiting for her – but she had no choice. She had to know what Juliette was up to.
The night air was cold and clear — although whether or not it was the chill that made her shiver, Sophie could not tell.
Stepping into the gardens, she tried not to look at the shadowy figures hidden in various corners of the garden, ignoring those who walked past her with their arms around one another.
“Oh Lord Crawford,” came a breathy voice. “I do wish you would just tell her.”
Sophie froze, her heart in her mouth as she saw two figures just ahead of her, who began to stroll away from the path and towards a quieter part of the garden. With trembling feet, she moved quickly to stand behind a rather large tree just next to the path and waited to hear what was to be said in reply.
“You are much too forward, Miss Juliette,” came Lord Crawford’s voice. “Besides, you told me that you wished to come out here because—”
“Oh, it does not matter what I said!” Juliette interrupted, waving her arm. “I have you here now, and I will speak to you as frankly as I can.”
“This is most untoward, Miss Juliette,” Lord Crawford replied firmly, making Sophie’s heart lift just a little. “I am quite devoted to your sister, which I am sure you are aware.”
Sophie peered out from behind the tree, the soft lanterns and the bright moonlight making the figures of Lord Crawford and Juliette quite easy to see.
“But she is the younger,” Juliette replied softly, putting one hand on Lord Crawford’s chest. “And I am the older. I have a greater dowry than she ever will.”
Sophie waited for Lord Crawford to reply, to tell Juliette that such things did not matter to him, but instead, he paused.
“And I am just as willing as she,” Juliette murmured, moving closer. “You need not have any concerns in that regard, Lord Crawford.”
There was another pause. Sophie’s fingers dug into the bark of the tree trunk, suddenly tense.
“You are very beautiful, Miss Juliette, but I care for your sister,” came the hoarse reply.
Juliette laughed, a light, breathy sound. “Is that so?” she murmured, tilting her head just a little. With one hand, she pulled the ribbons at the back of her mask and let it slip to the ground. As Sophie watched, she did the same to Lord Crawford, who stood silently and allowed her to remove his mask. Sophie’s stomach churned with horror, as with a quiet murmur that Sophie could not quite hear, Juliette placed her arms around Lord Crawford neck and pressed her mouth to his.
Lord Crawford did not move away. He did not lift her arms from around his neck. He did not step back and tell her that he would never care for her in such a way. Instead, he lingered.
Sophie stared, horror-struck, at the scene before her. She could not drag her eyes away, no matter how much she wanted to. All she could see was Juliette and Lord Crawford. After a moment, he pulled her tighter against him, deepening their kiss.
“My dear Lord Crawford,” she heard Juliette murmur, her lips hardly away from his. “Whatever will dear Sophie say?”
Pain tore through Sophie’s chest, forcing her to step back. Blinking back hot tears, she turned on her heel and began to hurry away, not stopping to look back. Rushing blindly ahead, she made her way inside, not caring who she bumped into as she walked.
Her mother stood just where she had been, and as Sophie reached her, she saw the light smile fade on her mother’s face.
“Mama,” Sophie said hoarsely, hardly able to form words. “I have to go home this very moment.”
“Sophie!” her mother exclaimed, putting one hand on Sophie’s arm and taking her away from the crowd into a quieter corner. “Whatever is the matter? Are you ill?”
“Please,” Sophie whispered, clinging to her mother tightly. “I must go. Now. I cannot speak of this here.”
There was a momentary hesitation, only for her mother to nod. “Of course. Let me just secure Juliette and I—”
“No!” Sophie exclaimed, a little louder than she had intended. “No, Mama. Not Juliette. Please.”
Her mother’s eyes widened, as though she knew precisely what had occurred. Her strong arm wrapped around Sophie’s shoulders, as she began to hurry her towards the entrance, only pausing to ask a dear friend to chaperone Juliette so that she might return Sophie safely home before returning to the ball. There was Juliette’s father, of course, but he was most likely in the card room. Her friend was more than willing, appearing rather concerned over Sophie’s pallor, but Sophie could not bring herself to speak.
“A rather bad headache,” she heard her mother say, as she was hurried towards the door. “Thank you so very much, Lady Cullington. I shall return within the hour.”
5
The only thing Sophie did before she retired to bed was to write a hasty note to her brother. The pain within her was so great that she did not quite know how to bear it, struggling to comprehend all that had gone on.
Her mother had tried to speak to her, tried to get her to explain what had occurred, but Sophie had been unable to find the words. When her mother had asked if it was something to do with Lord Crawford, she had managed to nod but still the words would not come.
Reluctant as she was to leave her distraught daughter, the lady had no choice but to return to the ball in order to speak to Juliette. Sophie did not miss the lines of anger around her mother’s mouth, nor the flash in her eyes. Whilst Sophie could not bring herself to tell her mother all that had occurred, she had very little doubt that Juliette would not come out with the truth at some point. It appeared that Juliette had been quite right in saying that all men could be swayed, that they could all easily have their heads turned. Lord Crawford, the first man to press his lips to hers in a gentle kiss, had thrown that all aside in favor of Juliette.
“I shall never love again,” she muttered to herself, dabbing at her eyes with her lace handkerchief as she continued to write. Once the letter was sealed, Sophie rang the bell and directed that the letter be taken, at once, to her brother’s estate. The messenger was to wait for a reply and bring it as quickly as possible.
Finally alone, the tea tray in front of her, Sophie dissolved into tears. Her father, mother, and sister were all back at the ball, most likely enjoying the music and dancing whilst she remained in her room, feeling as though she were more like the shadows dancing across the walls than the flesh and blood woman she was. The moment Lord Crawford had taken Juliette into his arms, he had torn her heart from her chest and left her to stand alone, bleeding. The wounds both he and her sister left ran deep, most likely never to fully heal.
Her tears ran like a fast-flowing river, not abating for a long, long time. Sophie cried until she could do so no longer, her tears drying up even though her heart was still crying out with pain. Her eyes felt gritty and dry, her face now puffy from crying. Sophie did not try to calm the swelling by fetching herself a cool compress or even lying on the bed. Instead, she simply stared into the fire, wondering what someone did once their heart had been taken from them.
Did they simply find it again, somehow? Would it restore itself to her, albeit without the love she had once held for Lord Crawford? Or was that love still there, simply hidden by all the layers of grief and hurt, drowned by her salty tears?
She did not know.
Sophie knew she could not remain in town. Not now. Not when her sister and Lord Crawford would, in all likelihood, begin courting in earnest. Was she expected simply to remain in London, to act as though everything was quite all right, as Juliette paraded Lord Crawford in front of her?
“No!”
Her shout echoed around the bedchamber, a slow-burning ang
er beginning to fire through her veins. A hate for her sister’s manipulative ways began to creep into her mind, making her eyes narrow as she gazed into the fire.
Getting to her feet, Sophie threw open her bedchamber door and stormed through the beautifully decorated hallways. There was only one thing on her mind, and as she made her way to Juliette’s room, the idea seemed to take an even greater hold.
Only one thing stopped her. Juliette’s bedchamber door was locked.
Turning the handle over and over, Sophie screamed aloud and kicked it, hard. The door did not shift in the least, although a great deal of pain shot through Sophie’s leg. She did not care, hammering on the door with all her might, even though she knew the rest of her family was gone.
“Sophie!”
Turning around, Sophie saw her mother, father, and Juliette framed in the hallway, having evidently only just arrived.
“Whatever are you doing?” her father asked, frowning deeply. “What has happened to you?”
Sophie’s jaw clenched, as she saw Juliette smile, her eyes calculating. With a shriek, she stepped forward and slapped Juliette, hard, across the face, grabbing at her perfectly styled hair with the other hand. Her mama shrieked as Sophie hit Juliette again and again, and in the end, it was only her father’s restraining hand that stopped her furious attack on her sister.
“Sophie, stop!” her father shouted, pulling her body away from Juliette. “Whatever it is you are doing, that is enough! Just look at her!”
With a great deal of satisfaction, Sophie looked over to see Juliette staring at her with wide eyes. Her hair was in disarray, her face entirely red, and some scratches were already beginning to welt on her cheek.
“Good,” Sophie ground out, her anger burning even more fiercely. “I would have done more if you’d let me.”
Regency Engagements Box Set Page 48
