by Mary Nichols
She became aware that the curtain had fallen and everyone was applauding. Not a word or a note of the opera had made any impression on her poor, tired brain. She clapped with everyone else and watched several curtain calls before leaving with her aunt. They had arranged to have supper with the Malthouses and she had to endure more of Cassie’s chatter before they could politely take their leave and go back to Mount Street.
Teddy was not there and, according to the servants, had not been back in their absence. Neither had Viscount Kimberley. It was going to be a long, long night.
* * *
Apart from the gentlemen’s clubs there were coffee houses for the middling sort and even humbler gambling dens where Teddy might have gone to play and where he was not so well known. Adam spent the rest of the evening and most of the night visiting as many of them as he could. No one had heard of Edward Cavenhurst. He could have used a different name, so Adam fell to describing him. ‘Young, clean shaven, fair haired, a gentleman in his attire, though I cannot tell you exactly what he was wearing,’ he said. ‘So tall.’ He indicated Teddy’s height with his hand.
‘Too much the toff to come here,’ they said. Or, ‘I doubt he’d find the play deep enough here. Will we tell him where to find you, if he comes in?’
‘Tell him his sister is worried by his absence. Send him home.’
They laughed. ‘We will that.’
Some of the coffee houses were also debating societies and here the arguments could become heated. He was detained in one after the other until they paused long enough for him to ask his questions. In one he was dragged into a debate on the franchise and could not resist giving his opinion, which set them arguing again, and it was some time before he could broach the subject of Teddy. It was after he had left there and was wondering whether to go on with the search or go home to bed, that he realised he was being followed again. He deemed it wisest to seek more busy thoroughfares and go home to Wyndham House.
* * *
The next morning he called at Mount Street at the early hour of nine o’clock where he found Sophie sitting over breakfast alone. She should have called Bessie or one of the other servants to chaperone them, but they had gone beyond the need for such niceties. She bade him be seated and poured him a dish of hot chocolate. He noticed her hand was shaking and, judging by her pale looks, her brother had not come home.
‘What have you discovered, my lord?’
‘I regret to say nothing. I must have visited half the clubs and coffee houses in London. No one has seen him.’
‘Something dreadful has happened to him. He said something to me about being found in an alley with his throat cut.’ Her voice broke on a sob.
‘I can’t believe it has come that.’ He reached out and put his hand over hers. ‘Why did he say it, especially to you?’
‘He meant Captain Moore would do away with him.’
‘That is nonsense, Sophie, and you know it. Captain Moore is not a murderer. Why would he be? He has nothing to gain from such a cowardly act. Your brother should never have frightened you like that. It was very unkind of him.’ Her given name had slipped out without him realising it, but she didn’t seem to notice. He decided not to apologise for it.
‘He didn’t mean to frighten me. It was just that I was less than sympathetic and I am sorry for it now.’
‘Are you sure he would not go home to Hadlea?’
‘I am not sure of anything anymore. But I cannot think he would leave me in London by myself. How am I to get home?’
‘Do you want to go home? It will be my pleasure to take you, if you do.’
She raised tear-filled eyes to look up at him. ‘My lord, I could not ask it of you. There is Cassie’s come-out ball and...’
‘Damn Cassie’s ball.’
‘My lord!’
‘I beg your pardon. I should not have used such language.’ He paused. ‘Have you told anyone your brother is missing?’
‘No. Aunt Emmeline thought it best not to say anything, but we cannot keep it a secret forever. You know how gossip gets about. And I don’t suppose Captain Moore will hold his tongue.’
‘Leave Captain Moore to me.’
‘My lord, you have put yourself to a great deal of trouble on my behalf and I cannot let you continue.’
He smiled. ‘Who else will, if I do not?’
‘I shall have to look for him myself.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. How can you?’
‘I am not ridiculous.’ She had enough spirit left to flare up at him.
‘I apologise. Of course you are not ridiculous, but you are under a strain and not your usual sensible self.’ He said it with a faint smile. ‘But you know very well you cannot go combing London on your own. Besides, he might have left town.’
‘Yes, I know. Perhaps I should send for Mark.’
‘What can Mark do that I cannot?’
‘I don’t know.’ She was in despair.
‘Sophie, it will take days for a letter to reach him and for him to arrange to come to town. I am here already and at your disposal.’
She was crying in earnest now; the tears were rolling down her cheeks. He could not bear to see her like that. He left his seat to kneel beside her chair and put his arms about her. ‘Don’t cry, my dear. We will find him and all will be well. And Toby Moore will not trouble him again.’
She sniffed. ‘How do you know that?’
‘I spoke to him.’
‘What did he say?’ She ought to pull away from him, stand up and move away, but she couldn’t. He held her too tightly and, besides, she did not want to.
‘He only wanted what he was owed. I undertook to cover it on condition he never played with your brother again.’
‘You! But why?’
‘I wanted to help.’ He paused. ‘The trouble is it will not cure your brother and he may, at this very moment, be gaming with someone else.’
‘He gave me his promise he would not.’ Whatever else she did, she would have to find some way to repay him. But a few thousand! How could she obtain that sort of money?
‘No doubt he did.’
‘You think he will not keep it?’
‘I have no doubt he meant it at the time.’ Gently he put her from him and resumed his seat beside her. ‘Sophie, I will continue to search for him, but I think the time has come to ask for help.’
Lady Cartrose bustled in at that point. ‘Good heavens, Kimberley, you here? And so early, too.’
‘I came to acquaint you both with the result of my search for Edward.’
‘And?’ She felt the outside of the chocolate pot, but it had gone cold. Tutting, she rang the bell for a servant.
‘I am afraid I was unsuccessful.’
‘Well, young men can be thoughtless sometimes. It is too soon to be alarmed.’ To the maid who had just entered, ‘More hot chocolate, Lilly, and more bread and butter. Conserve, too, if you please.’
Sophie waited until the maid had left and then said, ‘Aunt, it’s been three days.’
‘He’s doubtless gone into the country on a repairing lease. Isn’t that what young men do who have gone in over their heads?’
‘How do you know he has gone in over his head?’ Sophie asked.
Her aunt shrugged. ‘It is the obvious conclusion. I have seen him at the gaming tables. He can sometimes be rash in his bids.’
‘My lady,’ Adam said, ‘I have enquired at all the coaching inns hereabouts and as far as I can tell, he has not left on the stage or the mail.’
‘He could have asked someone to take him.’
‘True,’ Adam conceded.
‘Then we are at a stand,’ Sophie said.
‘Not quite,’ he said. ‘I know someone who is very good at tracking people down. He knows the ins a
nd outs of the city and has contacts in places you would never dream of going. Will you let me ask him?’
‘What manner of man is he?’
‘He is an honest man who has served me well for years and he knows how to keep his tongue between his teeth.’
‘Aunt, what do you think?’
‘Let him try, if it means you will lose that doleful look,’ her aunt answered. ‘You cannot go to Cassandra’s ball looking like that.’
‘Cassie’s ball! You surely do not expect me to attend that?’
‘Why not? Augusta has put herself about for you and Cassandra is your friend. We cannot let them down.’ She turned to Adam. ‘You will be going, will you not, my lord?’
He looked at Sophie and smiled, knowing she was remembering his unflattering remark about the ball, and found an answering twinkle in her eye. She had not entirely lost her sense of humour. ‘Unless some catastrophe occurs, I shall be there. I will leave you now to go and speak to my man.’ He was still looking at Sophie. ‘Try not to worry.’
* * *
‘I think I will write to Jane and Mark, just in case Teddy has gone home,’ Sophie said, when he had gone. ‘I cannot write home directly because it would worry Mama and Papa, but Jane will tell us if he is at home and what reason he gave for leaving me here. In any case, Mark is coming to fetch us back after Cassie’s ball.’
‘I am sorry your stay has not been all you had hoped, child.’
‘It is not your fault, Aunt, and truly I was enjoying myself until Teddy got into such a mess.’ She gave a half-hearted chuckle that bordered on a sob. ‘Not so long ago he was chiding me for getting into scrapes and not behaving with decorum. I would give anything for him to be here doing that again.’
‘All is not lost, my dear. He will return looking sheepish, I do not doubt. There are still three days to go before the ball, and who knows what might happen before that is over?’
‘I might get a proposal, you mean? I don’t think that is going to happen, Aunt, unless it be from those I have already turned down.’
‘Are you still determined not to change your mind about them?’
‘I don’t know. I might have need of a wealthy husband...’
‘There is Viscount Kimberley, of course.’
‘What about him?’
‘Oh, Sophie, can you not see he loves you?’
Sophie stared at her. ‘Whatever made you say that?’
‘I see it in his eyes, in the way he looks at you, in his concern for you, in the way he flaps his arms about as if he would put them round you and knows he must not. Would a man who is not in love chase all over town at the dead of night to make you feel a little easier?’
‘Oh, Aunt, you must be mistaken. He has said he will not marry again, but I think Cassie expects to change his mind for him.’
‘And you have said you will not be a second wife, so what is either statement to the point when two hearts beat for each other?’
‘What do you know of my heart?’
Her aunt laughed. ‘You are wearing it on your sleeve.’
Was it that obvious? Had he noticed it? Had Cassie? Oh, she felt like running away and hiding, which was probably what Teddy had done. But there was nowhere to run to, except home. Oh, how she longed to be safe at Greystone Manor, safe in the bosom of her family. She went to the morning room and sat down at her aunt’s escritoire to write to Jane.
* * *
The day of Cassie’s ball arrived and they still had no news of Teddy. Jane had written that he was not at home and she had no idea where he might be. ‘I have said nothing to Mama and Papa,’ she had written. ‘But if he doesn’t turn up soon, they will have to be told.’ She was obviously concerned and Sophie was sorry she had worried her.
Adam had called several times, only to bring disappointing news. He gave no sign that he thought of her in any way other than a friend. He continued the search because he had said he would, but he must be thoroughly tired of her and her troublesome brother by now. And Cassie, who had called the day before to discuss the last arrangements for what promised to be the event of the Season, was happily convinced that he would offer for her that very night and mark the occasion with the gift of a horse. If that happened she would have to be happy for her, but it was not going to be easy.
It was with great reluctance she went up to her room to change into her finery. Bessie was there to help her, but she could hardly rouse any enthusiasm, being almost as worried Sophie was. ‘He is like a naughty schoolboy,’ she told Sophie. ‘Always wants his own way and sulks when he cannot have it.’
‘Bessie, that is unfair. If you had seen how contrite and sorry he was...’
‘Sorry butters no parsnips.’
Sophie, standing in her petticoat waiting for her blue gown to be put over her head, could not even smile at this. She had had such high hopes when she left Hadlea, as excited as a schoolgirl. She was going to have a Season, to be the belle of all the balls, to find a loving husband who fulfilled all her criteria. How foolish she had been! How much the child. She had done a great deal of growing up in the short time since she’d left home. She was no longer the child; her illusions had been shattered by reality. Love, real love, found its own way and sometimes it was not returned. Hearts could not be dictated to.
The gown slipped down over her shapely figure and fell in soft folds to her feet. It seemed an age since she had been boasting of it to Cassie. It didn’t seem to matter anymore. Life was not about expensive gowns and fripperies; life was what you made of it and she had made a mull of everything. If she could go back in time to the beginning of May, would she still plead to be brought to London? If she had not come, would she still have met Viscount Kimberley? Would she now be breaking her heart over him?
‘It looks lovely.’ Bessie’s voice broke in on her thoughts. ‘Jane has done a superb job, but you really must try to look a little more cheerful. Anyone would think you were going to a funeral, not a ball.’
Sophie turned towards the mirror and studied her reflection. Her cheeks were devoid of colour and her eyes had lost their brightness. Even her hair looked dull. But the dress was lovely. It had a boat-shaped neckline and puffed sleeves. A fichu of the paler blue lace was intended to fill in the neckline that would otherwise leave her shoulders bare. The bodice fitted her exactly. The skirt, falling from a high waist, was tiered, each tier threaded with silver ribbon. The hem was looped up with more ribbon and revealed an underskirt of the same pale lace as the fichu.
‘Sophie, you must pull yourself together if you are going to pull this off tonight,’ Bessie said, taking a hairbrush and pulling it through Sophie’s tresses.
‘Pull what off?’
‘Outshining the other young ladies.’
‘Am I meant to do that?’
‘Yes. You have to convince everyone there is nothing wrong, that you are as bright and sparkling as you have always been. For your pride’s sake, if nothing else.’ She finished coiling Sophie’s hair into ringlets and began threading it with silver ribbon to match the dress. ‘Otherwise you might as well be wearing white and hiding yourself behind your aunt, waiting for someone to take pity on you.’
‘I don’t want anyone’s pity.’ It was said with some feeling, but she remembered Jane cautioning her about too much pride. Had she brought this misery on herself, laying down her requirements for a husband? And then behaving like a hoyden because she didn’t want anyone to know how unsure of herself she felt?
‘No, I didn’t think you did. Shall we try a little make-up, just to put some colour in your cheeks? Pinching them will not be enough.’
‘Very well, but please, not too much.’
By the time Bessie had finished, Sophie was looking more her old self. ‘There! That’s not too much, is it?’
‘No. You are very clever.’
‘But you have spilled a little powder on the lace.’ She pulled the fichu off and examined it. Brushing it with her hand only made it worse.
Bessie took it from her. ‘Oh, dear, you should have worn a cape. I’ll try to clean it off.’
‘No, don’t bother. If I am going to shock everyone I might as well do it properly.’
‘Sophie!’
‘It was you who said I had to sparkle.’
‘I didn’t mean... Oh, well, your necklace will fill in the neck a little, and you can pull the sleeves up onto your shoulders.’
The necklace, that was it! She touched it as Bessie fastened it round her neck. Mark would never give Jane paste jewels, so it might be worth something. She could sell it and repay the viscount and there would be no need to marry any of her erstwhile suitors. She suddenly felt much more cheerful. And if Teddy turned up safe and well, everything would come about. Except for her love for Viscount Kimberley. She would have to remove her heart from her sleeve and bury it away from sight.
She slipped into her shoes, donned a fine silk shawl and hung her reticule on her wrist. ‘I am ready,’ she said, and went down to join her aunt, who was clad in burgundy satin and a matching turban, to wait for the carriage to be brought round.
* * *
Mr and Mrs Malthouse, together with Cassie, stood at the head of the stairs to greet their guests as they arrived. Cassie was in a demure white silk gown embroidered with dainty pastel-coloured flowers. Ribbons of matching colours encircled the high waist and finished in a large bow at the back. She came forward to kiss Sophie when she arrived.
‘You look lovely,’ Sophie told her.
‘And so do you. I didn’t think you would dare wear that gown.’
‘Why not? I said I would.’
‘They are all here, you know.’
‘Who?’
‘Sir Reginald, Mr Fanshawe and Lord Gorange, all dressed to kill.’