Her words made Adam smile and that simple reaction warmed her heart more than she had expected. "There is my sister. I thought I had lost you."
Something in his tone touched her deeply and Sophia reached out to grab his hand. "I was merely misplaced for a time, Adam. I was never truly lost." They had never really spoken about that night, and his admission just now was as close as they had come to doing so.
Clearing his throat, Lewis motioned towards the door, obviously uncomfortable with the siblings' brief display of affection. "I do hate to break up this family gathering, but I fear that bad weather is approaching. My leg tells me that will be the case, at any rate. I do not wish for us to be caught out in inclement weather."
He glanced down at his leg, which today was clad in the tightest breeches that Sophia thought she had ever seen. The fabric clung to all sorts of delightful places that she probably shouldn't notice as a lady of good breeding and accentuated muscles she had no right noticing either on a man who was not to be her husband. For a woman who believed that she was now permanently terrified of men, Sophia had come to the conclusion that she was doing far more looking at Lord Blackmore's rather muscular body than was likely proper. Or healthy.
She also wondered if she was beginning to go mad. Had Selby been infected with the French pox? Was she now ill as a result of that night? Was that what was wrong with her? At this point, nothing would surprise her when it came to the deceased cad. Nothing at all.
"Troubles you, does it?" Adam asked the other man and when Lewis nodded, her brother inclined his head. "Best be off then. Don't want either you catching your death of a cold." Just before he left the room, however, the duke paused one last time. "Blackmore, are you planning on attending Lady Carlisle's Ice Ball in three days?"
"I wasn't, no, but I can if you think I should be there." He held his arm out to Sophia. "The invitation is at home on my desk as we speak."
Adam nodded briefly, worrying his lower lip between his teeth for a moment. "I think it would be a splendid idea for all involved, especially given the recent advances of last evening." Then he added, "You are a popular man, aren't you, Blackmore? Invitations aplenty?"
"I am a mystery, your grace," Lewis corrected softly. "I have enormous wealth left to me by several distant relatives with whom I found favor in my youth, but no title to go along with that impressive fortune. I have power and standing within my family when, as the third son, I likely should not have either. I have been at war and have the scars to prove it, yet I do not discuss my injuries or use them to garner sympathy as many returning war heroes do. I work openly for Bow Street for reasons few can discern, though I am certain a great many women would like to try. At least if they could see past my scars and not fear me as so many of the young ladies do rather often. That is the mystery they all seek to unravel, your grace. They care little, actually, for the man beneath the mask." Then he turned to Sophia. "My lady? Shall we."
Sophia pinned her brother with a dark stare. She had no idea what sort of machinations Adam was up to at the moment, but she knew enough to be wary. Especially as, in his newly married state, Adam now thoroughly believed that wedded bliss was perfect for everyone. Likely including her. She did not want him getting it into his head that this relationship between her and Lewis was anything more than a mutually beneficial, yet very temporary, arrangement with no strings or feelings attached to either of them.
"We shall. Back soon, Adam. I promise." Then Sophia allowed Lewis to escort her out of the house and to the carriage waiting on the street below. She would make certain her bother knew that she harbored no tender feelings for the former military man when they returned. She could not allow Adam to fill his head with ideas of hearts and flowers and happy endings where she and Lewis were concerned. That would never do.
However, for the moment, Sophia made the decision to enjoy the day with Lewis and live in the present, rather than dwell upon what she would say to her brother later in private. It was not something she had done enough of in the past and that, too, was a part of herself that she intended to change if she could.
Despite the fact that it was a brisk and windy November day, Lewis had chosen to use his open air carriage for the drive and had made certain to send word that morning to ensure that Sophia was properly dressed for the day so that they would not require a maid to chaperone them in an enclosed vehicle. Not to mention that Lewis wished to speak with Sophia alone, or as alone as one could be with carriages full of other people lining Rotten Row at the fashionable hour. He had even made arrangements to leave his tiger in the Reynolds' stables until they returned. He was truly that desperate to speak with her.
Ever since this ruse had begun, Lewis and Sophia had not been able to speak freely, and Lewis greatly wished to do so before things progressed any further between them. There were things about him that Sophia needed to know if they were to continue on under the guise of potential lovers. Not everything, of course, for most of his secrets were reserved for the woman he would eventually take to wife. However, there were things about him that a woman he had reportedly been courting for some time would likely know by now. He did not wish for them to get tripped up by the minute details.
When he and Sophia were finally settled into the carriage, Lewis clicked his tongue and set his team in motion. The matched grays that served as his carriage horses were magnificent beasts. As a rule, the Blackmores never had anything less than the best horseflesh that money could buy, and Lewis himself was no exception to this rule. As they made their way towards Hyde Park and Rotten Row, he could see Sophia admiring the beasts from her perch beside him.
"Do you ride, my lady?" he asked, feeling a bit awkward now that they were truly alone. He was decidedly out of practice when making small talk with women of good breeding. Even one he felt as comfortable with as Sophia.
She glanced at him askance and made an odd noise. "Do you not think, my lord, that after all we have been through, you might wish to call me Sophia?"
"I would not be so bold as to use a lady's Christian name without leave to do so," he replied just as saucily. He liked this side of Sophia, he was quickly discovering, which was yet one more reason that they needed to play this ruse out only as long as was necessary and then end it with all possible haste. Before he began believing in things that could never be.
"Well, consider this my permission...Lewis." She was clearly teasing him now and for some peculiar reason, her words warmed some part of him that he hadn't known had gone cold over the years.
In general, women did not tease or joke with him. They pitied him, certainly. They also attempted to mother him at times, which, when he was feeling a bit roguish, he certainly did not desire. Still others wished to "help him heal," whatever that meant, even though Lewis continually insisted that he was not really broken and that his physical scars had healed as well as they were likely going to anytime soon. So for Sophia to feel free enough with him to tease was something extremely remarkable indeed.
"Point taken...Sophia," he tossed back and grinned like a fool, he was certain. Unlike some of his other grins and smiles that he had practiced and perfected over the years, this one was genuine and for a moment, he forgot the dismal weather and the cold that likely meant they could not stay out too long, lest they both catch their deaths. Instead, all he could concentrate upon was Sophia.
"Excellent. Now that we have that matter settled, what did you wish to talk with me about?" When Lewis simply gaped at her in surprise, Sophia shook her head in disbelief. "While I might not remember your request for a drive last night, I am also experienced enough to know that when a gentleman wishes to be alone with a lady to discuss matters of a more personal nature, he generally requests to take her for a drive in the park. Even as winter fast approaches with its miserable weather. And especially when the man in question has a bad leg that is prone to aches and pains when it rains or snows."
Full of admiration now, Lewis graced her with an even bigger smile than before, even though h
e knew that it would distort the scar at the side of his mouth and render him, well, ugly to be blunt about the issue. To her credit, however, she did not flinch this time either. Instead, she merely continued to stare at him curiously. "Remind me never to underestimate you, Sophia. You are far more clever than most give you credit for."
She sighed softly and shook her head, her golden curls bouncing beneath her bright red bonnet that matched her cape. "I am damaged, Lewis, but I am not broken. And I can still think. While I may have lost a part of myself, I did not lose my intelligence." She shrugged. "Even though I do now realize that my judgment is questionable at times."
He nodded. "I understand." Then he inclined his head as they approached Rotten Row. Oddly, he did not remember the trip to the park being this quick in the past. "But not here where others might overhear. We will make a few turns around the park and then I know a place where we can go to speak freely, if that suits you." He squinted at the sky. "I believe the rain will hold off long enough."
"I trust you," was her only reply and once more, Lewis was shot through with that peculiar sensation in the vicinity of his gut.
The spent several minutes circling the park, enough to be noticed and remarked upon by just about everyone else who was out on such a chilly day, including a very surprised, Lady Fanny Scriven, the wealthy and spoiled daughter of Baron Troxborough and his wife Matilda. The chit was notorious for going through beaux as if the supply of rich and titled gentlemen in all of England was endless. She was also a vicious gossip, which Lewis knew far too well. He would have to make certain that Lord Candlewood sent the girl's father a message, making certain to muzzle his daughter where Lewis and Sophia were concerned. He didn't want the young lady spouting off things she knew nothing about and damaging all of the hard work Lewis and the Reynolds' family had put into rehabilitating Sophia's image.
Sometimes there were benefits to being the friend of a man known as The Bloody Duke, Lewis supposed to himself. Even if said duke wasn't quite so terrifying now that he had settled down and was well on his way to starting a nursery of his own with his new wife.
Finally, when there was no one else about, Lewis carefully guided his carriage off of the main path and down a slightly overgrown one towards the far end of the Serpentine. This area of the park had long since fallen into disuse thanks to steep banks and unstable ground. It was scheduled to be renovated at some point when the funds were available. However, given the way Prinny flung coins at his many mistresses, Lewis thought that day might be a long time in coming. In the meantime, most of Society stayed away from this area, favoring the more public parts of the park where they could be easily seen by the rest of the beau monde.
After steering his horses around a small clump of shrubs that had not yet lost all of their leaves for the coming winter, Lewis pulled the carriage to a stop and gingerly hopped down before reaching up to assist Sophia out as well. Then, arm in arm, he led her to the far edge of the water, a place where all of the sounds of Town simply faded away. There, near an old folly, it was as if Lewis and Sophia were the only two people left on Earth. Here they could speak privately without fear of being overheard. He also offered her his arm so that she would not slip and fall into the icy waters.
He had not come this far with her simply to allow her to fall into harm while she was in his presence from a mere slip and fall.
For a few moments, neither of them said a word. Instead, they both silently watched the wind whip the normally calm waters of the lake into small whitecaps. Lewis could smell the scent of rain in the air and knew that he should say his peace immediately and then get Sophia back home before she became overly chilled. Yet for some reason, he could not find it within himself to speak and instead simply watched the dancing water and relished the heat coming from the small, feminine body beside him. It had been so long since he had felt a woman this close to him, and there was a small, selfish part of him that basked in the warm feelings she created deep within his soul.
It was Sophia, however, who eventually broke the silence, indicating that perhaps she was not quite as caught up in the moment as he was. "There is a stark, cold beauty in this setting, is there not?"
"There is," Lewis agreed easily. "I am surprised that you notice it as well."
"Because you think me shallow?" There was a clear challenge in her voice.
"Because in my experience, only those that have known true pain can see beauty in what others would consider ugly." He paused. "Like me."
When Sophia snorted in disbelief, he was taken aback for a moment. "You, my dear Lewis, are far from ugly. In fact, I would wager that you are one of the most handsome men that I know." Still keeping her arm looped within his, she turned slightly to look at him. "You are aware of that, correct?"
"I am scarred." He made the statement as blandly as possible. This was what he had come to say, partly to protect himself and partly to make certain that this ruse did not fail. "As a woman that I am courting, or rather pretending to court, you should know this."
Imperiously, she raised an eyebrow. "Are you still functional?"
"Sophia!" This was the sort of talk he would expect from a woman in a brothel. Not a lady.
When she grinned at him, Lewis knew she had been teasing and had meant to shock him with her brash words. Suddenly, he could understand why Lord Selby had been so entranced with her. She appeared to be little more than a delicate flower in need of nurturing. That was until she opened her mouth and shocked everyone with her strength and bawdy wit.
"I only meant that you can still walk and talk and move about." Her eyes twinkled merrily. "If you took my words to have other meaning, that is entirely upon you, Lord Blackmore."
"You are a puzzling thing, are you not?"
For a moment, Sophia's teasing mask fell away and he caught a glimpse of pain beneath the smile. This was the real Sophia Reynolds. "I am many things, Lewis, just as I suspect you are as well. Most of all, however, I am still struggling to find my way forward. I cannot be the foolish and brash young girl that I was before, and yet there are parts of her that I do not wish to loose completely. However I find that this meek, terrified woman I have been for the last several months is not really me, either. Nor is she the woman I wish to be in the future. Still, for some reason that I cannot explain, when I am in your presence I can be...well, normal I suppose is the word I am searching for. I can be a little like my old self and yet a better version of her who has learned life's harsh lessons at the same time." She paused and kicked at a pebble with her boot, sending it skittering down the bank before it splashed into the water. "And I am certain I just uttered a bunch of nonsense that you cannot possibly understand."
Lewis tugged gently at Sophia's arm and together they began to walk around the edge of the lake, taking care not to get too close lest they accidentally fall in. "Actually, you made perfect sense." He tilted his chin. "Perhaps your words would not make sense to everyone, but they do to me."
"Because you are not the same man now as you were when you left England for the war?" There was true curiosity in her gaze, as if she really wished to know the answer.
She was clever, his Lady Sophia. Lewis liked that about her. "No, I am not." If she could be honest, then so could he. "I went off to fight Old Boney with a very romantic idea of what war was like. I had heard the stories, of course, but those tales cannot really prepare one for the harsh reality of such a life. I, certainly, was not prepared. Not for the death or the harshness of life in wartime. Not for the suffering of the civilians, the people whose towns and villages we trampled through, the farmers whose lives were destroyed because two opposing armies picked their fields to engage in a battle."
"It sounds horrible." Lewis was a bit shocked that Sophia was not screaming or shrieking in fear at his words, however, so he continued on with his story. It was freeing, somehow, to speak about what he had witnessed.
"It was horrible. In fact, it was far worse than any nightmare you could conjure up."
; She nodded. "Yet you lived."
"I did. But not without scars." With his free hand, he reached up and traced the line of the scar that ran the entire length of the one side of his face. "This one? It continues all the way down my torso. There is another one on my right side, well buried beneath my clothes that no one, save for my valet, ever sees. My back has several scars, as do my legs. My right leg took a bullet to the thigh, which is why I limp as I do." He tapped his head. "In here? There are scars there as well. Invisible ones, but ones that are very real just the same."
Sophia seemed to consider that for a moment. "I understand. Well, not the part about the war, certainly, nor the physical scars. But the ones in here?" She tapped her temple in return. "I have those sorts of scars, as well. There is guilt about how I treated Adam and the awful things I said to him. There is guilt over how I treated Abigail as well, when all she was truly guilty of was falling in love with my brother."
She licked her lips and for a moment, that was all Lewis could focus on. "And then there is what Selby did to me. The guilt I feel towards myself for encouraging him. The pain I feel over how I have let my family down, and the anger I still carry towards him for what he took from me. The pure rage that I feel each time I picture his smug face that night and how I would strike at him were he not already dead so that he might feel some modicum of my pain. Those are my wounds, my scars. So while they are not the same as yours, nor nearly as horrific, I still carry them inside of me. I am afraid I always will."
Unable to stop himself, Lewis turned and took Sophia's hands in his own so that they were standing face to face. "What happened was not your fault, Sophia. Never think that for a moment. No true gentleman would have ever done what Selby did to you."
"I encouraged him." She looked down at the ground and kicked another pebble.
"You flirted and teased. You believed you were in love with the man. There is a vast difference." Lewis wanted to tell Sophia that her feelings were nothing new, and that he had seen other women in different lands suffer the same thoughts and feelings after trusting a man, only to be eventually betrayed so horribly by him.
A Gentleman by Moonlight Page 10