Pearl looked as if she was about to make a face and then thought better of it before snapping open her fan instead. The younger woman was dressed in the palest of pink silks, so pale that it was almost white. She looked lovely, but yet somehow still a bit unpolished. Sophia hoped that Pearl's brother, Daniel, the newly named Marquess of Lansdale, was able to find someone to assist his sister before the next Season began. Otherwise, the girl might be ruined through no fault of her own.
"I did not either," Pearl finally replied softly enough so that she would not be overheard easily in the crush, "but my brother had a private audience with the Prince Regent late last week. When Daniel returned, he informed me that we were both staying in London and that we were breaking proper protocol by attending a select few events during the Little Season. I am supposedly not 'out' yet and therefore shouldn't be here at all, but I do not think my brother much cares. Nor does Lady Stonebridge from what I gather, as if my appearance here makes her ball a bit more notorious."
From what Sophia had learned of the new marquess and what she already knew of Lady Stonebridge, she suspected all of that was true. "Are you enjoying yourself then?" Sophia asked Pearl, briefly wondering how a man supposedly as caring as Lord Daniel Weston could truly be if he simply dumped his sister alone at a ball and walked away from her in search of a card game or some other entertainment, as there was no evidence of the man anywhere about.
This time, Pearl did make a face. "I was," she said sourly, "until my chaperone, a Miss Emma Nightingale, decided to deliver a rather public lecture of who was who in some sort of dusty old tome called Debrett's. It's a book about the peerage. I think. Anyway, the lecture was boring, so I slipped away from her for a moment, though I am certain the woman will find me again soon enough. She has the eye of an eagle and talons just as sharp."
Biting her lip to prevent herself from laughing out loud, Sophia wanted to inform Lady Pearl that Debrett's was the book that all debutantes in London lived by when they were in search of a husband. That many a desperate young woman had combed its thick, heavy pages, searching for a man they might target to be their husband, no matter the gentleman's age. If Pearl was to succeed in London society, she would have to come to know and love the book as if it was a member of her own family.
"I...ah..." For a long moment, Sophia could not think of what to say to the young woman that would not sound precisely like something the unknown Miss Nightingale would utter.
However before Sophia could come up with any sort of real response, Lady Pearl sucked in a sharp breath, her gaze darting nervously about the room as if she was afraid of being caught by someone. "Forgive me, Lady Sophia, but I am afraid I must take my leave. I see my adversary now, and I do not wish to be caught out, as I said I was going to the refreshment table for some lemonade. I suspect the wretched woman heard me even though she pretended to ignore my words."
In a flurry of pink silk, Lady Pearl disappeared as quickly as she had arrived, leaving a speechless Lady Sophia in her wake. A moment later, a harried young woman, who was likely Miss Nightingale but did not look in the least bit wretched, hurried past the small section of wall where Sophia stood, doing her best to stay out of the way. Garbed in pale gray silk, the woman had an air of refinement about her, and instinctively Sophia knew that the woman might be currently filling the role of chaperone, but she was peerage-born. Of that there was no doubt.
Then, all thoughts of Lady Pearl, the curious new Marquess of Lansdale, and even the odder-still Miss Nightingale flew from Sophia's mind as a hulking shadow blocked out the light from the chandelier overhead.
"I believe this is my dance." Looking up, Sophia saw Lewis' handsome face peering down at her quizzically. "Is something amiss, my lady? You look upset."
Sophia could tell by the look in his eyes that Lewis was afraid that he was the reason for her fear. She could not allow him to go on believing that a moment longer. "I just had the strangest conversation with Lady Pearl Weston. She and her chaperone are not all that they seem. Something seems a bit off about them both."
"They are harmless," Lewis replied as he took Sophia's hand and began to lead her to the dance floor. "Or at least Lady Pearl and her brother are. There is something not quite right about Miss Nightingale, I will grant you that." When Sophia looked at him in puzzlement, he grinned at her, a small dimple appearing in his right cheek. "What? Did you think a marquess from all the way in America would simply appear as if by magic and Bow Street would not investigate?"
"I actually hadn't given the matter much thought," Sophia admitted as she took her place among the dancers, making certain to be mindful of Lewis' bad leg. She had noticed earlier that his limp was more pronounced than it had been the pervious day.
"Well, think upon the topic no longer," he teased back, surprising her a bit with his quick wit. "For the moment, think only of the dance. And my toes." He glanced down and then back up, a bit of blush tingeing his craggy features. "I am afraid that I do not always move as gracefully as I used to once upon a time."
At that, a thousand and one thoughts flew through Sophia's mind. She wanted to know if dancing pained him or if his injury was merely an annoyance. Did the rain make his injured leg worse, as it did her gouty Aunt Ruth who had moved to Brighton for the supposed healing effects of the sea air? If his old injury did pain him, then why was he doing this? Certainly not just for her sake or so she hoped. Was Lewis really that desperate for a wife that he would put himself through this torture to prove that he was worthy of a blue-blooded bride, even though he had no title to offer her in exchange? Was this part of his job at Bow Street, even though he had informed Sophia that he had been put on leave by his superiors?
More than that, Sophia wondered how far down his body his injuries went? Was his leg injury part of the same scar that ran the length of his face? Even though she was no longer an innocent, she had not seen much of the male body, Selby being rather quick about his business that night and unwilling to undress for her since it served no purpose for him. Yet Sophia could not help but wonder about Lewis' body, and her gaze roamed his broad, well-muscled chest as if peering closely enough at him would somehow allow her to see through the layers of fine fabric that kept his chest from her curious view.
"I am sorry, my lady. I did not mean to offend you." Sophia looked up when she heard Lewis apologize.
"No, my lord, it is I who should be apologizing to you. My mind is not precisely here. Or rather it is, but I find myself focusing on things I should not be, so that I do not run screaming out of this ballroom in complete fear and embarrass us all." She shook her head and moved more fully into his arms as the music began. Sophia felt so comfortable in Lewis' presence that it never occurred to her that she shouldn't move closer. Even though moments before, the very idea of simply bushing up against a man's jacket sleeve had nearly made her swoon. "Let us just pretend that I was woolgathering, for I do that rather often as of late. It is a terrible habit that I should learn to break before I become too accustomed to it."
This close to the man, when he smiled, Sophia could see the deep nick at the very corner of Lewis' mouth that marked the path of his scar across his handsome face. Once more, she wondered about the man now holding her in his arms and how much pain he had endured so that she could continue to be a silly young thing and chase after a man who only wanted to use her for his own ends. There was a part of her that decidedly didn't want to know.
"Well you look rather charming when you do so," he reassured her. "I would not worry about it becoming a habit. Sometimes, our minds become cluttered and we need time to sort out our thoughts. I think that once your life settles, you will find yourself woolgathering less and less."
He spoke so confidently that Sophia wanted to believe him. She was about to question him further when the musicians finally picked up the pace of the music and Lewis pulled her into the steps of the dance, whisking every other thought from her mind.
Despite his protests and his bad leg, Lewis was an extremel
y graceful dancer and in short order, Sophia fell into perfect time with his slightly shuffling step. There was an elegance to his movements, even though they were not quite as smooth as some of the other gentlemen's, but to her, it did not matter. For the first time since that night, Sophia felt as if her world had righted itself - if only in this moment. She was dancing with a handsome man at a ball. She felt safe and secure in his arms, so protected that when he teased her, she felt obliged to tease back. Just as she had before.
Yet she was also keenly aware that nothing was exactly the same as it had been before and that she should not take this moment for granted. In fact, she shouldn't take anything for granted. Not the decorations or the endless stream of chatter around her or the music that filled her chest and made her want to believe in hope and the future again. Not the man holding her in his strong arms or the fact that she was here, among her family and friends. Not even the icy ping of the rain against the terrace doors as the precipitation changed to sleet.
"Enough deep thoughts," Lewis leaned down and whispered in her ear, pulling Sophia just a little closer as he did so. Perhaps even a bit closer than was appropriate. Not that she minded, really, for it fell...right. "There is time enough for that later. For now, just dance."
Then Lewis swept her out and into the crowd of other dancers. Sophia never doubted for one moment that he would keep her safe. He had promised her that he would. And she believed him.
Chapter Seven
Town Tattler
Last evening's frigid rain was a perfect backdrop for Lady Stonebridge's annual Ice Ball - or so I am told. There is another "Ice Ball" to be held in three-days time, so we shall see which event is more befitting of the name. Anyway, that is neither here nor there, for you do not come to me for the weather, do you dear readers?
No, you come for the gossip and last night did not disappoint! Speculation regarding Lady Sophia and her feelings over the recent death of the most prominent of her old beaux has been rampant over the last several days. Especially since it has been noted several times and by many different sources that she openly defied her brother - who is a duke no less! - in a vain attempt to wed the now-deceased gentleman. However, after Lady Stonebridge's ball, I feel that I can firmly say that whatever tender feelings were between Lady Sophia and the late (and not so lamented) Lord Selby, they were extinguished long ago. For last night, the woman who is both a delicate flower and an warrior queen by turns (or so I am told) only had eyes for our beloved gentleman of the moonlight, Lord Lewis Blackmore. Is she truly entranced by the dashingly handsome former military officer who only becomes a gentleman when the sun sets and the moon rises? Some of my sources certainly seem to think so!
The larger question, perhaps, is how long this rumored affair has been going on and whether or not her family was aware of the courtship - if there truly is one at all. Some say this is a fairly recent attraction, but my usually impeccable sources inform me that this tendre began some time ago, possibly even as far in the past as June. Or longer - all the way back to her come-out ball! Is this true? Who can say? It very well might be! Might we see this romance - new or not - blossom right before our very eyes, dear readers?
We might! That is, of course, if Lord Blackmore is not called away on family business in the meantime. I have it on excellent authority that he has taken a temporary leave from Bow Street to deal with family issues, especially as the "spare" Dunleighton heir, Lord Silas Blackmore, cannot be found. More to come on that front, I am certain.
And what of our new American Marquess, Lord Daniel Weston? I am told he was seen in a heated discussion with a Miss Emma Nightingale, whom he recently engaged as his sister, Lady Pearl's, chaperone. That sort of scene might be perfectly acceptable in Baltimore, but not in London! The man will learn, I suppose. Either that or he will suffer the social consequences. As for Miss Nightingale, I cannot find a single mention of the woman anywhere. I suppose a more thorough investigation of her past might be in order.
-Madame C
Sophia read the gossip sheet one more time as she sat perched on the edge of her chair, waiting for Lewis to arrive for calling hours. The reports about last night weren't that bad, she supposed. If anything, they were precisely what her brother and mother had been hoping for - if not better. Madame C., at least, had heavily implied that Sophia was all but smitten with Lewis, which was precisely what everyone had hoped for as an outcome. Sophia had to admit that anyone watching her dance with the man last evening would certainly believe that to be the truth.
Lewis had held Sophia far closer than was absolutely necessary while they danced, their bodies so close that she could feel the heat radiating from him. No one outside of her family needed to know that it was simply because his injured leg was feeling a bit weak from the rain, something he had admitted halfway through their dance.
Since moving closer to him had played into their ruse, Sophia had no problem doing so. At one point, she had given pause once more and wondered why this particular man's presence and nearness didn't seem to affect her the way being around other men did, but she had just as quickly brushed the errant thoughts aside. She was doing what was necessary to move forward with her life and prove to one and all that she was not ruined, for why would a respected man like Lewis Blackmore dally with a fallen woman? Even one with as large of a dowry and such excellent connections as Sophia? He would not, and so much of Society had begun to assume that the rumors of Sophia's ruin were just that - rumors - and that she was truly infatuated with the man himself and he with her. Or at least Sophia hoped that was the case. One could never be truly certain about situations such as these.
She must have been playing her part well enough, however, because for a moment the previous night, Sophia herself had even believed the ruse to be the actual truth. She believed for a moment that Lewis was truly courting her because he found her beautiful and intriguing, and not because they both hoped to gain something very valuable if they succeeded in making all of Society believe that they were nothing more than a young couple in love. Then, reality had returned and Sophia was forced to remember that a wonderful man like Lewis, one with morals and who could likely have any woman he desired, would not wish to marry a foolish, stupid woman like her. However for a moment, the ruse had been reality and it had felt rather nice. It had been a very long time sine Sophia had felt...nice.
Just as it now felt nice to be anticipating an outing with a man. Especially since the outing was with Lewis. At some point last evening, he had inquired about possibly taking her driving in the park the following day. Sophia didn't remember the request, but both Adam and her mother did. They had also both clearly remembered Sophia eagerly agreeing to the prospect, even if she could not.
Fortunately she did not have to wait much longer as Thompson appeared without a sound to announce Lewis' arrival. Which, of course, was followed by Adam tromping into the room to greet the other man warmly. In the weeks since her brother had wed, Adam's general disposition had improved greatly. However where his sister was concerned, he still tended to be a bit over-protective and more than a bit touchy. In the past, Adam's appearance in the drawing room as a male caller arrived would have sent Sophia into a fit of pique and, quite possibly a tantrum. Now, she was simply thankful that her brother still cared at all.
"Lord Lewis Blackmore, your grace," the stuffy butler intoned in Adam's direction as he led the other man into the parlor. "He is here to escort Lady Sophia on a carriage ride." As if everyone present did not know why Lewis was here.
"Thank you, Thompson." Adam was trying very hard not to laugh as the butler turned sharply on his heel and marched back out into the hallway, leaving a very confused Lord Blackmore in his wake.
Looking around in confusion, Sophia noticed for a moment where the skin pulled tight around Lewis' scar as he frowned, blanching the area almost sheer white. "Your grace. Lady Sophia. Do I have the wrong day? I specifically thought we decided upon a carriage ride today so that we might continue to play upon t
he ruse a bit more and enjoy the decent weather while it still holds."
"Have no fear, Blackmore. We did." Adam smiled as Sophia rose and reached for her bright red pelisse, eager to be off to the park and for a breath of fresh air. "I am afraid that Thompson can be a bit overly-proper at times. Even for a stuffy London butler." He paused for a moment. "Did you see the papers this morning?"
"I did." Lewis nodded firmly, though his normally expressive face betrayed nothing else of what he was thinking. "After only one night, I believe that this strange plan of your mother's is succeeding to a large degree. Though I still consider myself a bit mad for having agreed to it at all."
"You agreed because it was necessary if you wish to return to Bow Street when this nasty business is finished." Adam picked up one of the papers before tossing it back down with a shake of his head. "I believe this plan, mad and strange or not, is succeeding brilliantly after only one night. I say we continue with the pretense and in no time, everyone should have exactly what they want. There will be no more questions about Sophia or that night, and you will have both your job at Bow Street back and the ability to find a wife to suit your needs." Then he turned to his sister. "Sophia? What say you?"
Tossing her head the way she had before, she offered both men a sunny smile, trying to hide the bit of fear she still felt over the possibility of failure. No, she could not allow anyone to see her fear. Not yet and perhaps not ever. She did not desire anyone's pity, especially not now as she was attempting to reclaim her life from the ruins Selby had left behind. "I say that I believe it is time for us to go take that drive in the park."
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