That evening, Hugh sat alone in his lodgings. With nothing to distract him, his mind would not stop going round and round. He had endured an unpleasant interview with Colonel Badham, during which he had stood rigidly at attention for so long that his leg was now aching abominably. But none of that compared to what Theo might be thinking. He had not seen Theo again at Horse Guards, and despite his hopes, there had been no note waiting for him at his lodgings. Even if Theo was not somehow too appalled at Hugh’s carelessness to wish to continue their connection, he might well have been reminded of the difference in rank between them and be uncomfortable about pursuing a friendship in light of that.
It was possible, Hugh finally admitted as he slipped on his nightshirt and climbed into his bed, that Theo had never intended to repeat the time they had together. Hugh had no guide for how these things worked. He’d hoped that they would continue to spend time with one another until Theo left for Portugal, but he had no idea what Theo’s intentions had been. He snuffed out the candle and lay staring into the dark.
…
The next day seemed interminable. Hugh kept hoping that Theo would turn up again in their office but was disappointed, although at one point he was almost certain he saw Theo walking across the parade ground, heading away from the building. Hugh had been due to attend some gathering with his mother and Sophia that evening, but on his return home he dashed off a quick note of apology and sent it round to Half Moon Street. Even though he knew distraction would probably be a good thing, he could not face an evening during which he had to pretend to be interested by vapid conversation.
Half an hour later, he was deeply thankful for his decision, for a note was delivered to his lodgings addressed to Captain The Honourable Hugh Fanshawe in Theo’s distinctive sloping scrawl. The note expressed apologies for such short notice but cordially invited Captain Fanshawe to dinner that evening should he by some lucky chance be free of other commitments. Hugh instantly sent back a reply, stating that he would be pleased to accept the invitation.
Ascending the front steps to Albany an hour later, Hugh’s emotions were mixed. He was delighted at the prospect of spending time with Theo, yet also aware of his carelessness at Horse Guards. What made his failing so very much worse was that he knew full well there was a spy on the loose and yet he still hadn’t made the effort to return the book to its rightful place. He was embarrassed to face Theo again, and not entirely sure he still had Theo’s good regard.
His worries were eased slightly by the smile that broke across Theo’s face when he was announced. He took a seat on the sofa and accepted the glass of sherry he was given, and as the door closed behind Theo’s man, he raised his eyes once more to Theo’s face.
“What has you looking like a spaniel that ate the grouse it was to retrieve?” Theo asked, amused, as he rested an elbow upon the mantel and looked at Hugh.
Heat rose in Hugh’s cheeks as he confessed. “My blunder at Horse Guards.”
“How came you to make such a mistake?” Theo asked. “I thought you were noted for your punctiliousness.”
“I believe we—I—have not always been careful about returning the books overnight when I knew I would need them again the next day.” Although it was a habit he had picked up from Courtenay, he could not blame the other man for his failings, no more than he could blame Colonel Badham for not insisting upon the books’ return. They had all fallen into bad habits, but that didn’t lessen Hugh’s culpability.
“But you will not do so again,” Theo hazarded.
“I will not.”
“Then I shouldn’t refine further upon it, if I were you,” Theo said. “There was no harm done as it happened, except to Colonel Badham’s nerves. Now tell me, I was elsewhere today—what other great excitements have I missed at Horse Guards?”
Evidently that figure he had seen on the parade ground had not been Theo, no matter how sure he had been at the time. “The usual giddying whirl of leave requests and postings and promotions,” he said. “I cannot conceive how you managed to tear yourself away from such pleasure.”
“It scarcely bears contemplating,” Theo agreed, seating himself beside Hugh on the sofa. “There is, however, one excitement which I missed rather more than your paperwork.” His hand rested on Hugh’s thigh, and his meaning was clear. Hugh scarcely had time to fumble his sherry glass onto the side table before he was being thoroughly kissed. It didn’t take him long at all to return the compliment.
It was only the prospect of dinner that persuaded them, reluctantly, to part. Not long after their meal, they were entwined on Theo’s bed, soft murmurs turning to harsher sounds, until Hugh cried out with pleasure and shuddered beneath Theo’s touch.
…
Afterward, when they were peaceful and satisfied, lying together beneath the covers, Hugh put his head against Theo’s shoulder as he idly traced the lines of Theo’s chest. Theo was everything he had ever wanted without realising it, and he still couldn’t believe they were lying here together like this. That Theo, against all expectations, appeared to want to be with him. Theo, who was so many things that Hugh was not and could never be.
“How are you so perfect?” he asked quietly, and then realised he sounded like one of Sophia’s novels and closed his eyes in mortification.
Theo pulled away and snuffed out the candles. When he lay down in the bed again, his body seemed composed of angles that had not been there before, and Hugh wished he had bitten off his tongue rather than let those words escape. Yet even in the depths of his self-flagellation, the warmth and comfort of Theo’s bed had its inevitable effect, and Hugh, already drowsy with good food and wine and what had followed, found his thoughts fragmenting. He was somewhere between wakefulness and sleep when Theo put his arms around him, buried his face in Hugh’s hair and sighed.
Chapter Thirteen
Hugh was relieved to find Theo was still wishful of spending time with him despite his faux pas in the bedchamber. He had invited Hugh for dinner again on Thursday night, and as Hugh left on Friday morning, he suggested they meet once more on Saturday, when Hugh was not required at Horse Guards.
Late Saturday morning therefore found Hugh in morning dress and impatiently awaiting a note from Theo to discover what, precisely, he had in mind. When Murray brought him a letter that had been just delivered, he was so sure it would be from Theo that he opened it without even glancing at the direction. He was surprised to find that Emily’s script filled the paper.
Hugh, please come to Curzon Street as soon as you receive this. It is important and also of the Utmost Urgency.
All thoughts of Theo forgotten, Hugh rushed out into the street to find a hack to take him to Emily’s. He had never before received such a missive from her, and he could not imagine what might be its cause.
Emily’s butler showed him to the morning room before going to apprise his mistress of Hugh’s arrival. Such informality reflected the easy, long-standing relationship he had with Emily, and also her thoughtfulness—she would not make him mount a flight of stairs for no reason, which he would only have to descend afterwards. But it left him waiting, and as he did so his anxiety rose still further and he began to pace the room, unable to settle the wild tangle of misgivings that chased around his head.
The door opened finally, and Emily was there. She looked to be well, there were no tears on her face, and Hugh’s heart unclenched a degree.
“Hugh,” she said, swiftly coming across the room and taking his hands in her own. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”
“What is it?”
It did not ease his mind that she glanced around to check the door was closed before she released his hands and seated herself upon the chaise longue, very deliberately arranging her skirts around her before looking up at where he remained standing in the middle of the room. He was poised for he knew not what, unable to relax enough to sit down.
“You must promi
se me not to enter into a rage the instant I tell you,” she said. “For we have things that must be done and cannot afford the luxury of such indulgences.”
“What is it, Emily?” he said, foreboding seizing him.
“It’s Sophia.”
The blood rushed from Hugh’s brain, leaving him light-headed and his heart thumping as if it were about to break from his chest.
Upon seeing his stricken expression she rushed to reassure him. “No, Hugh—it is not beyond rescue, I promise you. She is safe and unharmed.”
He drew in a breath, and the world steadied once more.
“She and your mama attended Vauxhall Gardens on Wednesday evening,” Emily said. “Sophia contrived to slip away from your mother, who thought she was with me. She did not reappear for almost half an hour, and at that point she came to find me, fearing to face your mama after what had happened.”
“What precisely had happened?” Hugh asked, unable to account for the unnatural calmness of his voice.
“Stanton had prevailed upon her to walk with him along the paths, and he began to make love to her. He kissed her, and then he attempted to force further attentions upon her, at which point she became frightened and escaped in search of me.”
Hugh’s bottom lip was very firmly between his teeth because otherwise he would let loose words that no lady should ever hear, but it did not stop him shaking with rage.
“That cur,” he snarled, once he had enough control to allow words past his lips. “That damnable, Godforsaken cur.” He took a breath. “You say she’s unharmed?”
“I swear to you, Hugh—she was frightened and upset, and now she suffers the dual burden of knowing that she was foolish and also mistaken in her trust, but that is all.”
Hugh nodded brusquely. His brain was tumbling, fury clouding his clarity, yet even so he knew that he had missed something. He finally realised what it was.
“Your letter said this was urgent, but it happened on Wednesday and it has taken until now to tell me?”
Emily looked away. “Sophia assured me she was most truly sorry and would never behave in such a way again, and so I acceded to her desperate plea not to tell you.”
Betrayal rose hot and sharp in him. “Emily!”
“Hugh, what good would it have done? It would have upset you when there was no undoing what had happened, and I am confident Sophia has learned a hard lesson. She fears more than anything losing your good esteem over this, for she loves you very much.”
“But why are you telling me now?” The sense of foreboding had returned.
Emily sighed and looked up at him. “We thought—I thought—it had gone unnoticed. You know how Vauxhall Gardens is, with such a crowd everywhere, and usually those who linger on the paths are those who would not share their business publicly. But today Sophia came to see me in great distress. She attended a rout last night and there were—well, nobody said anything precisely, but she believes, as do I, that Stanton, piqued by her rejection of his advances, is letting their assignation be known.”
“That bastard. That bloody, rapacious bastard.” Hugh turned away from Emily. “Forgive me, Emily, but this cannot stand.”
“Hugh.”
At the sharpness in her voice he turned back, although his hand was already on the door handle.
“I know—believe me, I know—what it is you feel, but just think—if you confront him in any way at all, you give credence to what is at the moment nothing more than the faint stirring of malicious tongues. Those who know Sophia will not believe it.”
“And those who don’t know her? Those who saw her stand up with him, time after time? Damn it, Emily, I told her.”
Emily got up from her seat and came to him at the door. “I know, Hugh. But you can’t blame her too much. She is an innocent who fancied herself in love. He is neither of those things and knew just what he was doing. And you can’t blame yourself, because short of removing her from town, there is nothing more you could have done.”
“I could have stood up in the same set as them and depressed their conversation if not for this damned leg,” he said furiously.
“If not for that limb, you would now be in Portugal and unable to do anything to rescue the problem we have,” she said. “Come, Hugh—sit with me and we will discuss what we must do.”
Hugh sighed as he looked at her, the edge of his rage abating under her calm reasoning. Somehow he found himself resigned to being so masterfully managed.
“I am still unsure whether Julien was the luckiest man alive or simply brought to think he was,” he said, and Emily laughed.
“Both. Undoubtedly both,” she said as she sat down upon the sofa and waited for Hugh to join her.
The way ahead of them was clear, but they talked about it for some time. Doing so allowed Hugh to recover from his temper, and it seemed to help Emily also. Although she had no reason for guilt, it appeared Emily felt some responsibility for not having kept a closer watch on Sophia. By the time they had formulated their plans, both were calmer, perhaps buoyed by the knowledge they were able to do something. Helplessness was not something that sat well with Hugh, and he suspected the same to be true of Emily.
“Will you see her now?” Emily asked.
“Sophia is still here?”
Emily nodded. “I left her in the drawing room while we spoke. Her maid is downstairs in the kitchen, for she brought her as a chaperone.”
“At least she showed that much sense, however belatedly,” Hugh muttered savagely.
“Do not scold her, Hugh, please. She knows she was foolish.”
Foolish was one word; rebellious and careless were two others. He could not promise Emily he would not scold Sophia, because how could she have been so lost to all common sense, let alone propriety? And he had told her about Stanton. But as Emily ushered Sophia in and he saw her pale tear-stained face, and the way her hands were clutched together, all thoughts of scolding fled.
“Sophy,” he said, the old, almost forgotten childhood nickname surfacing without conscious intent. With that she was across the room and in his arms, crying against his coat as he cradled her.
“You’re not hurt? He didn’t hurt you?” he asked, when at last her sobs diminished.
She shook her head violently but would not look at him. “I’m sorry, Hugh,” she said into his chest. “You were right, and I was utterly stupid, and I am so sorry.”
“It’s all right, Sophy.” He gently disentangled himself and, taking her by the hand, led her over to the sofa. “I know you didn’t mean this to happen. What we need to do now is steer a course through. Mama doesn’t know, I take it?”
Sophia shuddered. “No,” she said, then she stared up at him, tear-washed blue eyes imploring. “Oh, please don’t tell her, Hugh. I couldn’t bear it if she knew.”
“She won’t,” he promised. “At least, not from me.”
“Nor me,” Emily said, seating herself on Sophia’s other side. “The most important thing you must do now, Sophia, is to continue as though nothing had ever happened. Put a smile on your face and wear your prettiest gowns, and do not cut Sir Ralph, for that would give rise to speculation. But do not stand up with him again either. Your brother and I will be with you, and all will be well.”
Sophia looked at Emily, and the trust in her expression almost broke Hugh’s heart because he knew that despite Emily’s brave words, this might not be recoverable. The Fanshawes were a perfectly respectable family, but they lacked the influence to overcome any scandal of this sort that might attach to Sophia.
“Go and wash your face and tidy your hair, Sophia, and then I will come upstairs and we shall drink some tea,” Emily said. “You have a particular fondness for it, if I remember rightly.”
“Yes,” Sophia whispered. She looked as if tea was the last thing she wished to think about, but Hugh approved of Emily’s attempt to make th
e afternoon unremarkable once more. She got to her feet, and then she bent and kissed first Hugh’s cheek, then Emily’s. “Thank you,” she said, her voice strangled, before she retreated.
Emily sighed as the door closed behind her. “What are our chances, Hugh?”
He shook his head. “I don’t like them overmuch, but we will do all in our power to bring this off.” He reached and pressed Emily’s hand. “Thank you. You are the very best of friends.”
“You may repay me by accompanying me in the new high-perch phaeton I have determined to purchase,” Emily said. “My groom swears he will be pitched from it and die horribly, and I begin to think he will cast himself from it if only to spite me and prove himself right.” She pressed his hand in return then freed herself from his clasp and stood up.
“I think the best thing now for Sophia is for things to return to normal. Much as we both enjoy your company, Hugh, I am mindful that you do not make morning calls upon ladies, although I could bear it tolerably if you found it in yourself to do so in future. It will be best if you leave us now, and I shall ensure Sophia returns home safely in plenty of time to dress herself to promenade with me in the Park later.”
Thus dismissed, Hugh found himself on the pavement and walking home. As he walked, rage burned bright and steady in his breast, fuelled by the renewed helplessness he felt. He wanted nothing more than to call Stanton out, but he knew he must not.
He had just turned into Ryder Street when he became aware he was being hailed, and halted.
“Fanshawe! I was sure it was you,” Theo said as he came up to him. “Yet you seemed determined to ignore me.”
“My apologies,” Hugh said, his response automatic and his mind not at all on what Theo was saying.
Theo looked at him, his eyes narrowed. “What is it, Hugh? What’s wrong?”
Hugh shook his head for he could not tell anyone of Sophia’s disgrace.
“Let me accompany you to your lodgings,” Theo said, “And there you can tell me if you wish, or tell me to go to the devil if you prefer, but not before you have at least offered me suitable refreshment for I have had the most trying day already. Would you believe that Taylor has managed to mislay my favourite snuffbox, even though he swears blind he has not touched it? Short of some grubby urchin breaking into my chambers and stealing it, I cannot see how else it could have gone missing. And then there was the coffee—or rather, the drink I was served that masqueraded as such…”
A Minor Inconvenience Page 10