Sharing meals, sharing laughter, sharing the same name.
Sharing the same bed.
He groaned. Frustration and jealousy were eating away at his soul like an insidious poison. His only hope was that, on careful reflection, he did not think he had imagined Sophie’s partiality for his company. Could that mean she had some feelings for him after all?
Chapter 12
Sophie was in the saloon with Lady Verney when the butler announced Peregrine’s arrival. Sophie’s spirits sank. This was Perry’s fourth visit in as many days and she had already been as uncivil as she dared in refusing his invitations.
He had looked so downcast that Sophie could almost have believed he meant it. He was certainly persistent, brushing aside whatever objections and excuses she raised. This, coupled with the subtle but very real pressure James and his mother were bringing to bear, meant Sophie’s resolve was being tested to the limit. She did not want to offer Perry any encouragement, but at the same time she felt increasingly cornered.
Lady Verney, after requesting Peregrine be shown into the saloon, urged Sophie to be kind. “He is eager to please and a little consideration for his feelings can do no harm. I never saw a man so enamoured. Can you not see it yourself?”
“Indeed I cannot, ma’am. I have known Perry for three years and, in my experience, he is only ever enamoured of himself. All I see is a man whose pride is piqued by my refusals.” Sophie saw the troubled frown on her ladyship’s brow and was moved to add,
“But I will try to be civil for your sake.”
Lady Verney leaned forward. “And you will not refuse him?” she asked eagerly. “Pray, pray, do not! It would make me happy if you accepted his offer. His offer to drive out with him, of course—I did not to mean to suggest anything else at this stage,” she explained, twisting the fringe of her shawl between her fingers. “But he has charming manners and I cannot understand why you are so set against him.”
“Would my agreeing to go with Perry mean so much to you?”
Lady Verney flushed, but she met Sophie’s gaze directly. “Yes, for I feel sure it would lead to a better understanding between you. Ah, such a delicate topic! I prefer not to broach it, but I must. It has been delightful having you here and I would not ask you to leave until you are ready, but I believe James has spoken to you of his plans and one cannot deny the situation is a trifle awkward. Lady Penelope, you know…and her family.”
She paled, unable to repress a shudder. “Her father is an insufferably proud man who places great store by the family name and reputation. Odious creature! He takes snuff and has a way of looking at people through his quizzing glass that puts them in a quake. I suppose one can understand it when they can trace their line back to the Conquest, but they are so superior I doubt anyone but royalty could meet their standards. Indeed, they exert influence over James in all manner of things.” A guilty flush crept into her cheeks as she hurried on, “Well, we will not talk of that now! Suffice to say I live in dread of them hearing about your presence here. You know how people like to gossip and stir up trouble. There is nothing improper in it, of course, but being unaware of the circumstances surrounding your stay, they might think—Indeed, Lady Penelope could assume—” She sighed and gave up her attempts to elucidate, adding only, “I’m sure you understand me, my dear. It would be disastrous if Penelope were to reject James, or if her family forced her to because of this Awkward Situation. Goodness, one does not know what to do for the best!”
Her voice faltered as she reached the end of this speech and she appeared close to tears. Sophie, regarding her doubtfully, forbore to point out that the Awkward Situation could be easily remedied. Raising the subject of rented houses and paid companions again was useless as Lady Verney considered the notion as scandalous as her son did.
“There is no need to explain further,” she replied. “I do not want to trespass on your kindness a moment longer than necessary, or make things difficult for you or for James. I promise to do all my conscience allows in quitting Brook Street as soon as possible.”
Lady Verney seemed satisfied with this response. Sophie did not doubt she assumed it referred to marriage, but Sophie meant something else entirely. Her hosts did not know it yet, but Sophie had taken matters into her own hands. She would have given anything to see Theo again and, in her darkest moments, she acknowledged she would never love anyone as she loved him. But she could not dwell on something that was not to be and, since she refused to be married off to Perry or anyone else for reasons of expediency, she had to carve out another life for herself.
Through careful questioning of one of the footman, she had discovered the London office of her father’s lawyers was located in Lincoln’s Inn. She had dashed off a note to Messrs Smithson and Sands and received a cordial reply from Mr Sands himself, who suggested she call at his chambers when he would be pleased to discuss her requirements. The meeting had been duly arranged for tomorrow afternoon and, notwithstanding her heavy heart, Sophie felt a little more positive about the future.
Perry’s entrance dragged her away from these reflections. He took a seat on the sofa, taking care not to crease his coat tails, and it struck Sophie that he had dressed with more than usual attention.
He wore the customary dark coat, Hessians, neck cloth and pantaloons, but his coat was a deep burgundy colour, while his waistcoat and neck cloth were of the palest pink. A ruby pin glittered among the intricate folds of his cravat and about his neck was a new silver and diamond-mounted quizzing glass, suspended on a red velvet ribbon. His mood seemed propitious and he spent the next quarter of an hour being agreeable.
If she had been following the discussion more closely, Sophie would have found these efforts as amusing as his fashion choices. As it was, her mind was soon once more occupied with her plans and she gave abstracted answers to his questions.
This led to her unwittingly agreeing to accompany him to the British Museum. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them, and more so when she saw the victorious gleam in his eye. Lady Verney’s delight was obvious. Sophie bit her lip, furious with herself and acknowledging it was her own fault for not paying more attention.
There was no way of extricating herself now. Her best option was to make the outing work to her advantage. Besides the terrors of boredom and irritation, there could be no other danger in spending an hour with Perry among the crowds. She had never been afraid of him physically, only afraid of finding herself married to him, but he held no sway here. And if she agreed to go with him now, it might relieve her of his most pressing attentions as well as appeasing her hostess, who was close to succumbing to nervous spasms about the Awkward Situation. In short, going with him would buy Sophie time which was what she needed most. An hour or two’s discomfort was a price worth paying to be free to concentrate on more important matters.
Sophie therefore murmured an appropriate response and went to change. Having donned her bonnet and put on a striped spencer over her blue cambric gown, she went back downstairs to find Perry and Lady Verney waiting in the hallway. Perry subjected Sophie to a critical yet silent scrutiny before observing how charming she looked and leading the way outside to his curricle.
To Sophie’s relief, they set off for Great Russell Street at a steady pace. He made no attempt to demonstrate his driving prowess, nor did he mention marriage. Her prepared rebuff proved unnecessary. Instead, he questioned her about James, to which she returned ambiguous answers. He went on to praise the improvement her stay in London had wrought on her looks, her manners and her character. It was, he said, a creditable transformation which had earned his admiration. Her independent spirit showed to advantage among the ton and only now did he appreciate her true worth.
It was an impressive speech and Sophie did not believe a word of it. ‘Thank you, but you may as well save your breath. Your compliments are wasted on me,” she said when he had finished.
His lips curved in a thin smile. “Ladies always enjoy compliments.”
“Only when they are sincere. Why are you doing this, Perry?
You have always complained about my independent spirit.”
“And you have always delighted in provoking me, but you shouldn’t, you know. I bear a grudge as well as the next man.”
Sophie arched a sceptical eyebrow. “Indeed? I thought you too lazy to harbour grudges.”
He shrugged. “Think what you will. I am doing my best to make this a pleasant afternoon. If you have not already done so, I thought you might want to see Lord Elgin’s famous marbles. Know you’ve an interest in culture and the arts. All nonsense to me, of course—my tastes run to more lively pursuits—but I’m prepared to indulge you if you have a fancy to wander around ancient bits of stone.”
She gaped at him. “This is indeed an afternoon for surprises! Your thoughtfulness astounds me. I confess having read a report into Lord Elgin’s treasures, I would like to see them, and the Townley Marbles too.”
“Thought you might,” he said, nodding. “I’m more up to snuff than you realize.” He laughed unexpectedly, which made Sophie wonder what she had said to amuse him, but there was no time to inquire as they had reached Bloomsbury.
The museum’s impressive edifice was constructed on stately lines. It had been built as a private residence for the first Duke of Montagu, and since entrance was free to “all studious and curious persons,” there were no tickets to purchase.
As they wound their way up the magnificent staircase to the galleries on the upper floor, Peregrine pointed out the painting on the ceiling which depicted Phaeton petitioning Apollo. His mood was still convivial and there was no hint of the boredom Sophie was certain he must be feeling as they wandered through the saloons. Several times she caught him watching her, which was a little odd, but his good humour seemed unshakeable.
Among the curiosities brought back from the South Seas by Captain Cook, the cloaks and helmets of feathers from the Sandwich Islands earned Perry’s praise. He admired the Greville collection of minerals as well as the lavas from Mount Vesuvius presented by the Earl of Exeter.
They lingered in the purpose-built suite of rooms where the Townley collection was displayed while Sophie marvelled at the Greek and Roman sculptures on display, and the beautiful mosaic pavement lately discovered when digging the foundations for the new Bank of England. Peregrine was not so impressed with this, declaring the treasures from the Pharaohs to be the finest artefacts on show.
As they made their way to the temporary building which housed Lord Elgin’s disputed marbles, a lively discussion ensued as to the relative merits of what they had seen. Perry argued his case with conviction, if not deep insight, and while his easy charm struck a false note with Sophie, she was thankful for his good mood.
But her cousin’s mood was not to be Sophie’s only surprise. She was studying a sculptured slab and listening to Perry’s views on Lord Elgin bringing the treasures back to England when Lucius Grey emerged from the shadows.
“Miss Devereux! What a lucky chance, to be sure.” Grey came toward them with long, unhurried strides. “How do you do, Perry? I count myself fortunate to find you still here. The marbles are exquisite, are they not? There must be no doubt as to their aesthetic qualities by now, but the manner and propriety of their acquisition will be the subject for controversy for some years to come, I suspect.”
Perry’s obsidian eyes bulged. “What the deuce are you doing here? This is the last place I would have expected to see you!”
“I might say the same,” said Grey, with an amused look. “Nothing suspicious about it—after calling in Grosvenor Square to convey my compliments to your sister, I called in Brook Street to see how Miss Devereux was going on and Lady Verney informed me that you had come here. On the spur of the moment, I decided to view the collection myself. I had little expectation of encountering you both. I thought you would have already left.”
“You seem to make a habit of acting on the spur of the moment,” observed Sophie dryly.
“I do, but I beg you will not hold it against me.”
Sophie responded only with polite smile. She didn’t doubt his explanation—it would be easy enough to check if it he was telling the truth or not—but, as with his arrival at The Pelican, she had the feeling there was more to his presence here than met the eye. What a curious man he was. The aura surrounding him was both fascinating and disquieting.
“I looked for you at Fives Court last night, but you were nowhere to be seen,” Perry was saying, a peevish note in his voice.
“Ah, yes. My apologies, some business arose that I needed to attend to urgently,” replied Mr Grey. “Tell me, did Figgis win?”
“Why, yes! They slogged it out for twenty-three rounds until Figgis floored Smedley with as sweet an uppercut as you’re ever likely to see. I was near to the ring and my new waistcoat got splattered with blood. Confounded nuisance! Still, I won a considerable amount from Lord Rivenland. Fool was done up, ready to flee to France in the wake of his debts to me.” Perry sniggered at the recollection. “It was a fine evening all round. Pity you missed it.”
Sophie wrinkled her nose in disgust. “I cannot conceive how such a spectacle constitutes a fine evening’s entertainment.”
“It is not a place for ladies, certainly,” agreed Grey. “I am sorry to have missed an opportunity of recouping my losses, Perry. In fact, now I consider the matter, you have had good fortune lately and it is time you offered me another chance. Do you care to dine at my lodgings this evening and discover which of us has the current run of luck?”
“I don’t know if I can—”
“We could settle once and for all who has the greatest skill,” interjected Grey, a mocking challenge in his glance.
Perry frowned, regarding him through narrowed eyes. “What stakes do you care to play for?” he asked curtly. “Something worthwhile, I trust?”
“Whatever you choose. It is immaterial to me. My tally may be down, but my pockets are not to let.”
“Picquet, then. For guinea points?”
“Certainly.” Grey showed not a whit of consternation at these reckless stakes as he pressed his invitation. “So, will you take up this chance to outdo me again?”
“My dear fellow, I never refuse a challenge,” drawled Perry.
“Nor I. I sense my luck is about to turn. I suggest we dine at White’s before returning to my lodgings in St. James. I have some tolerable port for you to sample.”
“Very well. I’ll meet you at White’s at eight o’clock,” snapped Peregrine. “And now you will excuse us as my cousin wants to admire the rest of these antiquities.”
Mr Grey nodded, and then bowed in Sophie’s direction. “Forgive me for my execrable manners. I omitted to compliment you on your appearance just now.” He studied her carefully. “That is the most dashing outfit—”
“Don’t waste your time trying to turn Sophie’s head with compliments,” interpolated Perry in a brusque voice. “I have it on good authority she disdains them.” In one of his swift, mercurial mood swings, a cruel gleam slid into his eyes as he added, “Still, at least Sophie has some spirit…unlike Olivia. Such a wet goose cannot expect to attract attention anywhere, especially among the ton. If she has not received an offer by the time she leaves London, Mama is going to marry her off to Colonel Ponsonby.” His lips drew back in a sneer. “Ponsonby’s sixty if he is a day, suffers from gout and is a miser to boot—I’d say that’s as good a match as Olivia can hope for, eh, Luc?”
Sophie watched in astonished silence. Out of nowhere, a strained atmosphere had developed and the air between the two men crackled with menace. Perry seemed to be deliberately trying to provoke a reaction. Grey’s appearance here had annoyed him and, perhaps aware of Grey’s admiration of Olivia, Perry had chosen his words to arouse the other man’s anger.
But if his comments were designed to make Grey’s icy calm fall away, it did not have the desired effect. Lucius Grey stayed silent, his face impassive. Perry, a chink appear
ing in his good humour for the first time that afternoon, hunched an irritable shoulder and turned away.
Sophie kept her eyes on Grey’s face and therefore witnessed his reaction. As he stared at Perry’s retreating figure, Grey’s lips compressed into a harsh line. For a fleeting moment, a look of such hatred burned in his eyes that she took an involuntary step backwards in the face of it. The movement seemed to recall him to the present. Grey lowered his lids and swiftly schooled his expression back into its usual unreadable mien. He engaged her in general conversation for a few moments longer before taking his leave.
She watched him walk away. Shocked by what she had seen, she realized Perry’s attitude towards Grey had shifted to dislike and, beneath his reserve, Grey returned the sentiment. Whatever the reasons for Perry’s about-face, her overriding thought was that he would be well advised not to antagonise Lucius Grey. It would be akin to pulling a tiger by its tail.
Chapter 13
Once back in London, Theo went immediately to his lodgings. He had the use of the family townhouse whenever he chose, but since Hal and Isabella’s marriage, he had preferred to strike out on his own and now rented these modest rooms in Stratton Street.
The journey had allowed him more time to think. As soon as he had changed, he would call upon Sophie and lay his heart at her feet. He didn’t know how she would react—he had tormented himself imagining every possible outcome—but he would never give up trying to win her. She had utterly bewitched him. His body ached to possess her while his heart ached with the need to hear her voice, to see her, to simply be near her. The feeling raged in his blood, coursing through every inch of his body until it distilled, drop by drop, into his soul. He could no more live without her than he could stop himself from breathing. A life without Sophie would be no life at all.
Leaving his groom to take his curricle and team back to the mews, he ran up the steps. The door was opened by Saunders, his long-serving valet and, since his decamp to these rooms, his general factotum.
Three Secrets and a Scandal (Regency Secrets and Scandals Book 2) Page 17