Three Original Ladies 02 - Lord Trowbridge’s Angel

by G. G. Vandagriff

  “Why have you never been to London? Did you not wish a come-out?” he asked.

  “You must have noticed, my lord, I am a bit lame. And while I do not define myself by that fact, it is also a reality that I am unable to dance. I saw no reason for a ball, and would certainly have muffed my curtsey to the Queen. I declined in sheer terror at the thought!”

  He regarded her wide, confident smile. “I doubt that the queen would have terrified you much. But London? Surely you wished to meet new people, to see the sights?”

  “I am content within a small circle of acquaintance. Instead of a breadth of friends, I infinitely prefer a depth of friendship.”

  He longed to ask her if she never intended to marry, but he had been bold enough. Undoubtedly, she thought him a fine flirt. Which he was, to be honest. One of the best.

  “Do you count any men among your deep acquaintance?” he asked. She made her play, and he was discomfited to find that she might very well win this game.

  “To be sure. My brother-in-law, the Duke of Ruisdell, is a very good friend of mine. He has been kind enough to house me at Ruisdell Palace these four years. And I am very fond of Buck. Who would not be? It is agreeable to have brothers as well as sisters.”

  He made a desperate play and hoped she could not read his consternation. “Your sisters are your closest friends?”

  “My eldest sisters are twins who were married when I was quite young. I do not know them well. But Fanny, Elise, and I are very close. And in Derbyshire, I have a companion called Anna. Then, of course, there is Melissa. We have always corresponded daily when we are apart. That completes my circle, my lord.”

  “Would you be averse to considering more friends? May I be so bold to say I should like to be counted among them?” He tossed his cards on the table. “Despite your brilliance at piquet. You have won, my girl.”

  She smiled with what he suspected was deceptive sweetness, her light green eyes twinkling. “Shall we play another?”

  “I should like an ice, truth be known. But you did not answer my question.”

  “It would be very ill bred of me not to consider you for a friend when you have allowed me to win at cards, have escorted me to a ball where you knew you could not dance, and have likened me to an angel. I am considering it. But, my lord, only time will tell.”

  “So, we have a trial friendship?”

  “In a manner of speaking, yes.”

  “I am gratified beyond my wildest dreams. Let us celebrate with an ice.”

  They stood, and he held out his arm. She placed a dainty hand upon his sleeve and allowed him to lead her to the refreshment room. To his pleasure, they found the Aldridges were providing both lemon and raspberry ices.

  He secured a lemon for Miss Edwards and a raspberry for himself and found them a table. They had not long been seated when they were approached by his mistress, who was escorted by his best friend, the Baron Shrewsbury. Lila was a vision in powder blue silk tissue, her strawberry blonde hair cut around her gamine face to create the look of the naughty pixie that she was.

  “So this is Rosalind’s little sister,” Shrewsbury said. “Introduce us, if you would be so good.”

  He referred to Fanny by Buck’s pet name, causing Frank to grin. “Rosalind” had created quite a stir among the ton in her day.

  “Lord Shrewsbury, Lady Manwaring, may I introduce you to Lady Deal’s angelic sister, Miss Sophie Edwards. Miss Edwards, this reprobate is the Baron Shrewsbury, and this is Lady Manwaring, a renowned Whig hostess. More political deals are made in her Sunday salons than at Brook’s. Both are considered by many to be card sharps, so I advise you to keep your distance in the card room and your money in your pocket.”

  “But you are adorable, pet!” Lila exclaimed. “Are you a rebel, like your sister?”

  “She is an angel,” Frank insisted. “But she has beaten me at piquet.”

  “Piquet rather than dancing?” Lila asked. “Are you an oddity, child? Like your Aunt Clarice?”

  Miss Edwards replied, “I am afraid I am. Aunt Clarice is my idea of a fine lady.”

  Frank clapped his hands at this masterful set-down.

  “May I have the pleasure of the next dance, Miss Edwards?” Shrewsbury asked. “I worship your Aunt Clarice.”

  “I am afraid I must decline, my lord, though I appreciate your kindness. I do not dance.”

  “Definitely an oddity!” huffed Lila. “I have already danced with Shrewsbury, but I shall be pleased to dance with you, Frank.”

  “Another time, Lila. Miss Edwards and I have our evening quite planned. Now that we have had our ices, I must introduce her around. She is a violinist and will benefit from acquaintance with London’s musical circle. I shall call on you tomorrow.”

  He bowed to his mistress and his friend, put Miss Edwards’ dainty hand upon his sleeve, and walked away toward the mirrored wall, where he had last noticed Joseph and Bella.

  “Is Lady Manwaring always so rude?” Miss Edwards asked.

  “Inevitably. She believes her beauty and influence entitle her to say whatever she likes.”

  “Why do you cultivate such an acquaintance?”

  Trowbridge coughed to cover a laugh. If she only knew. “Actually, she is very helpful, politically.”

  “If she is the mode, then I am certain to take London in aversion.”

  “Wait until you meet Joseph and Bella Carstairs before you decide. I think you shall like them exceedingly.”

  As soon as he had them in view, the towering form of Joseph Carstairs strode forward to meet Frank, his hand outstretched. “You walk with beauty tonight. Pray, introduce us.” His tiny wife Bella was at his side, a welcoming smile upon her face.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Carstairs, please meet Miss Sophie Edwards, a very fine violinist who has been hiding in Derbyshire. Miss Edwards, I would like you to make the acquaintance of two of my dearest friends.”

  The young woman at his side offered Joseph her hand, over which he bowed.

  “You are musical?” she asked.

  “We are,” Bella replied. “I am a pianist, and my husband plays the cello. Who was your master in Derbyshire? Ffolkes?”

  “Yes. He retired there from London. I am very fortunate.”

  “You are, indeed,” said Joseph. “I say, Bella, we now have enough for a trio!”

  “But you have never heard me perform,” Miss Edwards protested.

  “Ffolkes would never have taken you on, my dear, if you were not full of promise,” Bella said. “Oh, how my fingers itch for the piano. Who is your favorite composer?”

  “Herr van Beethoven,” Frank’s angel said.

  Though music was not his forte, he was not such a Philistine that he had not heard the name van Beethoven before. He knew the man’s compositions to be rousing and difficult.

  “I shall bring my tambourine and make up the percussion section,” Frank said.

  “Oh, Frank, dear, do you feel excluded? What would musicians do without an audience?” Bella asked.

  “Well I may be mistaken, but aside from her family, I do not believe that Miss Edwards has ever played to an audience before.”

  “I desire that of all things!” Sophie said, to his surprise. He had thought her shy. “What an adventure that would be! My sister, Marchioness of Deal, plans to have a musical evening. Perhaps you two and Frank could come to dinner one night, and I could play for you afterward. You will then be able to determine whether you might like to join me in my performance. We could form a trio or play separately; whatever you desire.”

  Frank was amazed at the change in Sophie. Her countenance was brilliant. She talked with her hands, and her eyes sparkled with vivacity. It did not take much intelligence to realize what her music meant to her. Intriguing.

  Joseph said, “We would be delighted. Would tomorrow be too soon? Frank?”

  “I must confess I am more than anxious to hear Sophie perform.”

  “Excellent,” said Sophie. “Tomorrow night will be e
xcellent!”

  His charming chatterbox, now full of laughter and good spirits, saw her sister, the Duchess of Ruisdell across the room.

  “Oh, look, there’s Elise! I simply must speak with her, Lord Trowbridge.” Turning to Bella and Joseph, she said. “Tomorrow night then, at eight o’clock!”

  As they crossed the floor to her sister, Frank said, “Does Fanny mind your dispensing dinner invitations without consulting her?”

  “No, not at all. Fanny loves company. It is really the only way she gets to see people when she’s tied down with the baby.”

  “Umm. Can she not get a wet nurse?”

  Sophie gave a little laugh. “My sister is a frustrated actress. This is a new role for Fanny. She adores Alexa and knows this year will pass quickly. She has made the choice to bond with her baby. You know, she really does not thrive as a member of the ton. But she likes individual people who accept her on her own terms.”

  “Yes,” Frank said. “Fanny is definitely an Original. I adore her. Buck is a lucky man.”

  “That is what I think.”

  As they came up behind the duchess, Sophie put her hand on her sister’s elbow. “Darling Elise, I had to come over to say hello.”

  Her sister, a renowned beauty with hair as black as his own and her famous midnight blue eyes, turned and embraced Sophie. “Dear one, how lovely you look!” Turning to Frank, she said, “Lord Trowbridge! How pleasant to see you.”

  “Duchess,” he said, bowing over her outstretched hand. “A pleasure. I am enjoying coming to know your lovely sister.”

  “Frank is celebrated for his manners,” the duchess told her sister.

  “I might have guessed,” Sophie said. “He is a seemingly bottomless source of flattery.”

  “I have only spoken the truth,” Frank said. Turning to the duchess, he asked, “Has it never occurred to you that your sister resembles an angel?”

  Elise pinched Sophie’s chin. “She has turned into a pretty thing.”

  “How are Emma and Alistair? Do they miss their aunt?” Sophie asked.

  “Alistair is forever wanting you to come and build a fort with him. Emma just screws up her little face and cries for you.”

  “I promise, I shall make time for them this next week.” She seized the opportunity to tell the duchess about meeting the Carstairs and their plans.

  Sophie’s sister looked at Frank with a faint, gloating smile. “Wait until you hear Sophie on the violin. Talk about an angel!” She grasped her sister’s hand. “Play Laudate Dominum for him.” The duchess turned to Frank again. “Mozart,” she said.

  Frank raised an eyebrow. “Lovely. I will prepare to be enchanted.”

  Now, how to entertain her further this evening? He was unaccountably anxious that she should like London. There were more musical people to see, and so he set about finding them. For Sophie’s sake.

  { 3 }

  WHEN THE TIME CAME FOR SUPPER, Sophie found that she was somewhat wilted. However, Lord Trowbridge had been so accommodating with his introductions to people of a musical turn that she was enjoying herself hugely. And that was on top of the pleasure she felt at being in his company. He was certainly diverting.

  “You must try the lobster patties. They are de rigueur at all ton parties,” the viscount said.

  “I will. And after supper, I must insist that you take me home and return here on your own. I have monopolized your entire evening, and you have not seen your own friends or had a chance to dance.”

  “Seeing you in full flight has been treat enough for me, Angel. You have no idea how refreshing an evening this has been. Dancing every night during the season can become a bore, you know.”

  Smiling at his sobriquet, Sophie put one lobster patty on her plate along with a dab of chicken salad and a bit of fruit compote.

  “Would you care for champagne, or would you prefer lemonade?” her escort asked.

  “I think lemonade would suit best,” she replied.

  When he moved off to procure it for her, she was approached by a woman in a turban. Of indeterminate age, she was dressed in chartreuse satin and was peering at Sophie through her quizzing glass.

  “You look a sweet thing, my dear. I have it that you are fresh from the country. A word to the wise? Your escort is not all charm and good cheer. Do not be taken in by him.”

  “I am sorry,” Sophie said, drawing herself up. “We have not been introduced.”

  Lord Trowbridge returned and handed Sophie her drink before addressing the woman at her side. “Lady Polwarth, have you met my friend, Miss Edwards, then?”

  “No, I am afraid I have not had the pleasure. I have just been warning her about you.”

  Trowbridge laughed. “You still hold me in abhorrence then?”

  “This young man,” Lady Polwarth said with stern emphasis, “told me it was not the done thing to bring my pug to a ball. Poor thing has been pining at home of an evening ever since.”

  “I do not know what the done thing is, Lady Polwarth. However, it seems he was very ill-mannered to say such a thing to a lady of your standing.”

  “I do like you, my dear. Such an angelic face.”

  Trowbridge laughed again. “You have the right of it, Lady P. You will pardon us, I am certain. We cannot eat standing up and must find a place at the table.”

  They joined an almost-full table of chattering guests. The din in the smaller room hammered in Sophie’s ears. Many of the company appeared to be drunken, and it was with displeasure that she saw Lady Manwaring seated across from her. Looking at the woman as surreptitiously as she could manage, she tried to determine her age.

  She was older than she appeared, Sophie decided; that gamine look masked her age. She was casting fulminating glances at Lord Trowbridge, and to Sophie’s surprise, she felt what must have been the woman’s stockinged foot seeking Trowbridge’s beneath the table! Oh dear. Sophie feared she was going to giggle.

  “So how does our trial friendship progress, my angel?” her escort asked, seemingly unaware of Lady Manwaring’s attentions.

  Sophie thought for a moment. “One of the measures by which a man is judged is …” she could not say the rest: ‘is the company he keeps.’ She would sound a self-righteous prig. “It is far too early to tell, my lord. I know that you have exquisite, if not exaggerated, manners. I know that you are very good company. Also, greatly in your favor, is the fact that you do not seem to mind a bit that I am lame.”

  She thought she saw a flush starting under his dark complexion but could not be certain. He turned to look at her, and his face wore the identical grave expression it had in the drawing room upon first seeing her walking toward him. “Do not reduce yourself to the level of your infirmity. It is, I assume, due to an accident. Your character, on the other hand, is the result of carefully trained will.”

  She was so surprised by this comment, Sophie could not speak for a moment. “That statement is certainly worthy of a friend,” she said at last.

  ~~*

  In the carriage on the way back to Buck and Fanny’s townhouse, Sophie decided to explain, something she scarcely ever did. “When I was four years of age, I had rheumatic fever. My bad knee joint dates from then. I am very lucky not to have taken more damage from the illness.”

  “Your other joints are sound?” Trowbridge asked.

  “Yes, fortunately. If my hands had been affected, I would not have been a violinist.”

  “I am truly looking forward to tomorrow night.”

  Sophie looked up into his handsome face, lit only partially by the moonlight. He was studying her. “I am, as well,” she said.

  “Will you return from Lady Melissa’s to Buck’s before five o’clock?”

  “I suppose I could. My time is my own, which is a delight in itself.”

  “Five o’clock is the fashionable hour to be seen riding in Hyde Park. I should love to show you off, Angel.”

  “I am not a horseback rider, I am afraid.”

  “We will go in my s
porting curricle.”

  “That sounds perfect,” she responded, very aware of him sitting close to her. Was it too forward of her to wish that he would take one of her hands?

  It must have been a bad wish, for the faeries left it unanswered.

  ~~*

  Fanny was awake when Sophie came in, having just been up with the baby. Buck was very happy that the baby arrangements dictated that they would not be doing the balls this season. Since he had resigned his Captaincy, he found the amusements of the ton insipid. And Fanny disliked the restrictions society enforced upon women. The two of them preferred traveling abroad, and had only come home for Fanny’s confinement. When Alexa was old enough to bear the rigors of life at sea, they would resume their travels.

  “How was your first ball?” her sister asked.

  “It was lovely, Fan. But I am fair fatigued. I asked Lord Trowbridge to bring me home early, both because I am not used to such late hours, and because I wished for him to have a chance to dance. I hope he will return to the ball.”

  “That is just like you, Sophie. Knowing Frank, he probably was grateful not to fight off all the ladies, but to devote himself to you.”

  “Does he usually have to fight off all the women?”

  Fanny laughed. “You saw how devilishly handsome he is. What do you think?” Sophie smiled at Fanny’s slang. After the formality of the ton, it was nice to be treated with familiarity.

  “He was very kind to me, and very attentive. There was only one woman who tried to get him to dance with her, and he gave her a set down.”

  “I am exceedingly glad that he was kind. And who would not be attentive to you, you sweet and lovely thing?”

  “Of course you would think so! He introduced me to masses of people who enjoy or play music. I hope you do not mind, but a Mr. and Mrs. Carstairs are coming for dinner tomorrow night. Also Frank. I am going to play for them, and then we are going to make some decisions about the musicale. I asked them to perform in it, as well. They are well known, apparently.”