She had danced a little way ahead now, arm-in-arm with her young friend. Watching them tripping down the street, Bruno was already making a list. He would engage Britain’s most preeminent specialists to assess Sophia’s sister and offer the best treatment, if indeed any was required. He was not an unsympathetic man, but he knew there were some women—and men also—who made a habit out of their ailments.
And there were those whose good health revolved around a new and expensive outfit, a costly piece of jewellery or a change of scenery, preferably in a locality where extravagance and pampering prevailed. Observing Annabelle, he hazarded a calculated guess that she fitted somewhere among this circle. Consciously or not, she had learned to manipulate her sister, and Sophia’s generous spirit and sense of responsibility had allowed her to shoulder a weight of blame that was likely unwarranted.
Bruno told himself it was because Sophia was destined to be Freddy’s wife that he sought to ease her load. He wanted nothing more than for his brother to be happy with his chosen bride and surely their way would be smoothed if Sophia was not eaten up with worry. It struck him that Sophia’s happiness had also become important to him for its own sake, but he refused to explore this sentiment.
She had withdrawn her hand from his sleeve and stepped away from him, calling out to her sister. “Annabelle! Take care you do not tire yourself!”
But Annabelle and her friend appeared not to have heard. Chattering like a pair of exotic birds, they hurried up the street, past the young groom holding the reins of a glossy black mare outside the bow-fronted shop that Bruno would have called a general store. Just as they came to a giggling halt outside the village tea shop next door, Freddy rounded the corner and came cantering down the street.
Bruno grinned as Freddy cantered towards them, his hand raised in a boyish salute. A burst of affection warmed Bruno’s heart. In many ways he and Freddy had little in common and he had found himself often exasperated by the young man’s easy-going ways. But Freddy’s shy friendship had moved him, for he knew many others in the same situation would have declared war. He treasured the fraternal bond that had developed so easily between them and he would allow nothing to destroy it.
Waiting for Lady Cranston and Mrs. Hilliard to catch up, he watched Sophia have a quick word with the girls and smile at Freddy as he dismounted. Then she turned away and caught his gaze for an instant before stepping across the sill and disappearing into the store.
Chapter Nine
Having learned that Annabelle would be joining Susan and Mrs. Hilliard in the the tea shop, Sophia entered the dim interior of Little Chippington’s village shop where she found Her Grace, Vanessa, the Duchess of Northbridge, tawny hair piled into a plumed riding hat, leaning over the counter apparently engaged in local gossip with a voluminously gowned Mrs. Nighy.
“Sophia!” The duchess swung around and held out her hands. “I have not seen you in an age.”
Sophia smiled. “Weeks!” She gave over her hands and returned the kiss the duchess pressed onto her cheek inhaling the smell of horses, baby and herbs that made up Vanessa’s distinctive scent.
Vanessa clasped Sophia’s shoulders and studied her thoughtfully. “I have not seen you in person to discuss all that has overtaken you. The baby’s cough has kept me at his side and then the entire population at Northbridge succumbed to the same ailment, including my husband, who swore he would be dead by nightfall.”
Sophia gasped.
“Fiddle!” Vanessa waved a hand. “Men become such babies at the first sign of a sniffle.”
“Is the baby quite recovered?”
“He is vastly better. No doubt he is at this moment being ruined by Nanny, Pansy and every other inhabitant of Northbridge.”
Sophia smiled. “Who can blame them? It is difficult not to spoil such a delicious infant. Especially after…”
She bit off her words, her heart wrenching at the shadow that overtook Vanessa’s lovely face. How could she have been so tactless?
But Vanessa put her hand up and patted Sophia’s cheek. “Do not look so stricken my dear. I would rather you speak openly of our little lost daughter than never mention her as if she had not existed.”
“You are braver than I would be in the same circumstance.”
Vanessa shook her head. “I am not at all brave. After eighteen months the grief remains, but it has been softened by the new addition to our family. He has brought us so much joy. If we were to lose him, I do believe my heart would break beyond repair, and that of my husband’s also. Children rend the heartstrings in a way one never imagined before motherhood. Perhaps you shall find this out for yourself,” she added without archness.
Sophia forced a smile. Recalling Mama’s comments regarding Freddy’s aptitude in that direction she found herself averse to pursuing this conversation, even with Vanessa who she considered her dearest friend. “I have not thanked you in person for your generosity in franking my trousseau,” she said instead.
“Pshaw!” Vanessa waved a hand, accepting the change of subject without comment. “It is nothing. I am glad to have the opportunity. Although…” She tilted her head. Her aquamarine gaze was both concerned and penetrating. “Are you glad, my dear? To be marrying Freddy? And are you sure you should? This entire affair must have been a tremendous shock to you; it certainly knocked us sideways.”
Sophia did not have to find an artificial smile, nor search to find a polite but false response to the duchess’s query. Her friendship with Vanessa, and Vanessa’s own background and open personality, allowed a frankness that was not often welcomed by others of her acquaintance.
But for now, still troubled by the viability of her plan to distinguish herself as a professional artist, she was reluctant to share her mission even with Vanessa. “I am very happy we shall have the means to bring Annabelle out this season,” she said prudently, “and I acknowledge my marriage to Freddy will solve the financial predicament that has confronted us since Papa’s death.”
Vanessa nodded. She put her hand on Sophia’s arm. “How does your Mama fare? Now that Freddy no longer inherits?”
“I am sure his grace has told you of the very generous alternative Lord Beaumont and Mr. Cavanaugh have proposed. With that in mind, Mama has been surprisingly compliant.”
Vanessa nodded gravely. “Ash and I have discussed the situation at some length. You will most certainly be the subject of many an on-dit but Lord Beaumont has pledged to support Freddy. My dear, it may not always be easy for you, but knowing you as I do, I do not believe you will be crushed by the scandal.”
Sophia smiled. “Your allegiance will make a vast difference. There are few who would risk the wrath of the Duke and Duchess of Northbridge!”
Vanessa’s brows drew together. “It has just occurred to me you probably do not know why my husband is so inclined towards Mr. Cavanaugh.”
Sophia’s lips quirked. “Mr. Cavanaugh related the most absurd tale of how he met your husband.”
Vanessa laughed. “I have heard that story too! And their friendship was certainly begun at that point. But it was cemented over the following years when Mr. Cavanaugh advised my husband against investing in one or two particularly risky ventures. Remember, Ash had been a military man. He has a natural wisdom but he was not used to handling affairs of business. Had Cavanaugh not guided him, Northbridge would have seen the loss of many thousands of pounds. As it is, Cavanaugh’s astute business sense has seen Ash add to his estate significantly.”
“Mr. Cavanaugh certainly seems to have an excellent grasp on matters of commerce.”
Vanessa smiled. “Unlike most English gentlemen, who do not concern themselves with such mundane affairs.”
“And that is why they must needs marry off their daughters to the highest bidder,” said Sophia, stung by this unpalateable truth. But she did not pursue this topic, for another matter had aroused her curiosity. “Given their long acquaintance, I am surprised his grace did not recognize the Beaumont likeness.”
Vanessa smiled and shook her head. “He himself was astonished at his lack of perspicacity! He says there was a familiarity but he simply did not make the connection. Their meetings tended to be centred on business affairs, generally in the City, and on one occasion when Ash travelled to Philadelphia.” Vanessa shrugged. “As far as Ash knew, Bruno Cavanaugh was a born-and-bred American with nothing to suggest an English background.”
Sophia nodded. She had made a habit of studying faces and she knew people often shared an alikeness of feature and form without the framework of a blood connection. Mannerisms could suggest a familial association but Mr. Cavanaugh had been brought up away from all members of his family.
“Vanessa,” she said seriously, “you have told me you did not care for his grace when you agreed to marry him?”
The duchess smiled. “I loathed him! I believed he had forced me into marriage, left me no option but that one. But somehow…” her smile deepened. “He showed me his other side and I came to love him.”
“Perhaps that will happen with Freddy and me,” ventured Sophia with little confidence. From outside came a raucous bellow as Freddy called one of his hounds into line.
Vanessa’s smile was kind. “Perhaps.”
But they both knew, thought Sophia, that Freddy Beaumont was an entirely different kettle of fish from the Duke of Northbridge, who could walk into a room and have every man and woman at his command. Although she had never been in a room full of people with Mr. Cavanaugh she instinctively knew he also possessed that quality. She herself had immediately responded, not only to his looks but to the strength of his personality.
Under the pretext of examining a card of silver lace, the duchess steered Sophia away from Mrs. Nighy’s inquisitive stare. She lowered her voice. “If only Bruno Cavanaugh had arrived before your betrothal was arranged.” She slotted the card of lace back into position. “When I learnt of his place in our world, I confess my thoughts turned with indecent haste towards the possibility of him stepping into Freddy’s shoes.”
“Vanessa!” Sophia smiled, deciding against confessing that this precise notion had crossed her mind as well.
“I am still wondering whether I can influence events.”
Sophia looked up curiously from the amber ribbon she had idly looped about her fingers. “By what means?”
Vanessa waved a hand airily. “Why, the usual, of course. House parties, balls, picnics, routs—an al fresco breakfast here and there.”
Sophia laughed. “That is rich coming from a woman who met her future husband while emerging from her bathtub!”
Vanessa lifted her chin. “Our circumstances are quite different. I had neither mother nor friend. Remember, you were still away at school at that time and your Mama was visiting relatives in another county.” Her lips quirked. “How could I know Northbridge would come bursting through the door bent on a proposition I would find myself unable to refuse?”
Only half-listening, Sophia found herself following an imaginary path whereby Vanessa’s scheming veered towards the end she herself had flirted with. The length of ribbon trailed from her fingers.
She could not resist asking: “And if your machinations succeeded, what of Freddy?”
Beneath the brim of her black riding hat Vanessa’s eyes twinkled. “The duke presently has an outstanding pair of matched greys in his stables. I thought they might offer sufficient compensation.”
Sophia tried to look outraged but could not suppress her laughter. “Oh, Vanessa! I know my pedigree is tattered around the edges but surely I am worth more than a pair of carriage horses!”
“As events have turned out, it is poor Freddy’s reputation that is tattered—and not around the edges, but at its very centre!”
Sophia wound the loose end of ribbon into place and slipped the reel back onto the shelf where its vibrancy dimmed in the shaded recess. “Mr. Cavanaugh has made it clear he is unveeringly fixed on my marriage to Freddy. Besides, I do not believe he looks on me with the slightest desire. Every time we are near he appears to grow quite rigid.”
Vanessa’s eyebrows rose. “Does he indeed?” She peered over Sophia’s shoulder.
Sophia pivoted to track Vanessa’s inquisitive gaze. An imperfection in the glass showed Mr. Cavanaugh quite clearly, standing alongside two watery slivers Sophia recognized as Leila Harrington and her mother. Leila was little more than a thin pink reed and her mother a rounded puce shape surmounted by a large purple hat.
He stood on the cobbled path just outside the window, leaning forward slightly, almost on the balls of his feet. His head was angled towards Leila as if he was listening, but his narrowed gaze appeared to be directed into the shop’s dim interior as if he searched for something just out of his sight.
Sophia brought her hand to her throat. “I had met him already, Vanessa.”
Vanessa’s brows snapped together. “Beg pardon?”
“Mama and I had been at loggerheads over the marriage. Believe me, I comprehended all the reasons why I should marry Freddy but I felt like a rabbit in a snare! I stormed away from Foxwood and was on the bridge looking down into Huggleton Brook when Mr. Cavanaugh approached from behind and spoke to me. I felt rather wicked, but so alive, Vanessa! We flirted outrageously! And then…”
“And then?” prompted Vanessa. Her fingers tensed on Sophia’s arm.
Sophia pressed her forefinger against the pulse in her throat. And then… I longed for him to touch me. But she said, “I told him my name and he simply recoiled. I thought it was because of Papa, because our name had become tainted; it would not have taken long for even a stranger in the neighbourhood to gather the information. But now I’m not so sure. And it makes no difference anyway.”
“Perhaps not in that respect,” said Vanessa. “But I believe you are mistaken in his reasoning.”
After a moment she continued, her expression thoughtful.
“Mr. Cavanaugh had arranged his visit with Ash prior to meeting Lord Beaumont. A scouting expedition, if you will. He was meticulous in assembling all the information he needed to ensure he would be well prepared. When we told him Freddy had recently been betrothed he expressed enormous interest in you and of course we furnished him with your name.”
“Did you tell him about Papa?” Sophia wished her voice did not sound so small.
Vanessa waved her hand. “We did, but he brushed it aside. He was more interested in your character and whether we thought Freddy would be happy with you. Naturally, we presented him with a glowing reference.” She gave Sophia’s arm a reassuring squeeze. “In my opinion, that is why he expressed alarm when you introduced yourself. He discovered he’d been dallying with his brother’s fiancée!”
Through the window, a shape Sopha recognized as Freddy’s wavered into view. At the sound of Freddy’s voice and in the instant before he turned away from the window to face the younger man, the strain disappeared from Mr. Cavanaugh’s face. His mouth curved into a boyish grin as he swung away to greet his brother.
Something inexpressible pushed at Sophia’s heart, for if Mr. Cavanaugh had turned to her with the same joyous expression, she knew she would have felt utterly complete.
With murmurings of farewell, the group outside began to disperse. The puce and blue forms of the Harringtons wavered into the distance. The two men moved away and merged into one indistinct shape.
Mama’s upright figure grew clearer until she herself appeared in the doorway blinking to adjust her eyes to the dim light.
“Vanessa!” she said, stepping forward when she made out the two women near the rear of the shop. “How lovely to see you. We have all the excitement of your picnic before long, and that same evening the dance party at Enderby. You are attending?”
Vanessa offered her cheek for Charlotte’s kiss. “Well! Lord Beaumont has requisitioned me as hostess so I cannot stay away. Sadly, my husband is not likely to write his name on my card. He was engaged in some task he should have left to those more skilled yesterday afternoon when he slipp
ed off one of the workmen’s ladders.”
At Sophia and Charlotte’s gasps of concern, Vanessa waved a hand airily. “It is merely a bad sprain. Not a serious injury.” Her lips twitched. “For all I know he may have fallen on purpose so much does he detest social occasions. Or, in the same vein, he may have wrapped his foot in an elaborate bandage merely to fool me.
“But we shall both certainly come to London in June for the grand occasion Lord Beaumont has planned to introduce his firstborn to polite society.” She gave a mischievous smile. “In fact, much to Northbridge’s disgust I have stipulated we go down several days before. I am in dire need of new gowns and other falderals for we are expected to pay court to the Regent before the season is out.” She touched Lady Cranston’s arm. “And of course, you must ask me for any assistance regarding Annabelle’s coming out.”
Leaving the duchess and Mama debating the merits of rose pink or cerise petersham, Sophia slipped away. At the counter she dug into her pocket and brought out the package she had secreted there.
She gripped its corner, suddenly uncertain, but Mrs. Nighy extracted the packet from her fingers with a firm tug. Familiar with Sophia’s untidy scrawl, the shopkeeper cast her shrewd eye over the carefully scribed address. She peered over the top of her spectacles but thankfully complied with Sophia’s warning look and remained silent. With an air of finality she slipped both sealed sheet and package into the depths of the leather mailbag.
Sophia could do nothing now except continue to work and await the positive response she longed for. Concealing a shiver of trepidation, half pleased at her enterprise, half astonished at her daring, she turned away from the counter.
Mr. Cavanaugh’s dark outline blocked the narrow doorway. His broad shoulders almost touched the oaken lintel either side. He stepped inside and gave her a reserved smile, one that did not quite depress the notch beside his mouth. He flicked a glance towards the back of the shop where Mama and Vanessa were still occupied with their shopping.
The Beaumont Betrothal: Northbridge Bride Series Book 2 Page 11