Sophie craved this composer’s works with an appetite that always surprised her. Mozart was lovely, and the piece she played last night unusually so. But Beethoven touched something inside her that had never been touched before. It made her brave. It was his music that had actually given her the courage to come to London, to find other people who felt as she did.
They rehearsed until Fan came in to invite them to sit down to luncheon.
“Oh! Is it so late?” Bella asked. “We would not trespass on your hospitality!”
“Bella, you are my friends. Of course I want you to stay for luncheon,” Fanny said. “I cannot have starving musicians on my hands.”
During luncheon, the talk was all of music.
“What is it about Beethoven?” Sophie asked the musicians. “I love all his music. It takes me in unexpected directions. It makes me feel new emotions. I cannot explain it.”
“He is the greatest musical genius the world has ever known,” Joseph said. “He is a sick and lonely man, apparently, but his music soars. It has texture and substance. Bach and Mozart were great, but to me their music is more cerebral. Beethoven’s music touches the emotions. It is about life and hope.”
“I agree,” said Sophie. “I am so glad we are playing this piece.”
They compared Beethoven further to Mozart, Bach, and Scarlatti, talking also about the music scene in London. As far as Sophie was concerned, the time flew by. Before leaving, the Carstairs commended her for her skill and begged her to call them by their first names. Sophie was glad of this as they had been “Joseph” and “Bella” to her since she had met them.
{ 8 }
AFTER LUNCHEON AT BROOK’S, Frank sat before the fire with his legs stretched out in front of him, daydreaming of Sophie. He was smoking a cigar. Shrewsbury sat opposite him.
“Does the lovely Miss Edwards share her sisters’ and aunt’s proclivities for Good Works?” his friend asked.
“She’s an angel. Of course she is interested in Good Works. Then there was that comment she made to Lila.”
“Ah, yes. The one about her Aunt being all that a lady should be, or some such.”
“Yes.” Frank said, studying the glowing tip of his cigar. Though he had been thinking incessantly about his angel, he could not bring himself to discuss the evening before with Shrewsbury.
Shrewsbury lit his own cigar and then drew on it. “No doubt she is a passionate little thing.”
Frank looked from the fire to his friend’s face. “What makes you think so?”
“I can always tell that about a woman by the way she converses. She looks you in the eye. She is earnest. She moves her hands a great deal.”
“Hmm.” Frank considered this. “You should have seen her with her musical friends, if you think she was earnest with you.”
“What’s more,” Shrewsbury continued, “hers is honest passion.”
“Not like Lila’s, you mean?” Frank surveyed his friend with interest.
“Lila is a selfish beast.”
Frank smiled. “Disillusioned?”
“A bit. But we do have an arrangement, nevertheless. However, if you do not have an interest in Miss Edwards …”
“Poaching, are we?” Frank’s idle question hid an anxiety that disturbed him. Shrewsbury was very attractive to women.
His friend smiled. “So you do intend to pursue things. However will you go about it if she doesn’t attend the balls?”
“I am to teach her archery. As soon as I finish smoking this cigar, I am off to locate a women’s bow.”
“Ahh.” Shrewsbury nodded. “What a good idea.”
“Why did you ask if she was interested in Good Works?”
“I’ve an idea for a girl’s school. The Duke and Duchess of Beverley’s project to teach those orphan boys to read is admirable, but what about the girls? As things stand, most of them only qualify for one profession. The oldest one.”
Frank reflected on this surprising observation. No one in today’s society gave a thought to orphan girls. It was as though they were invisible. “Yes, you are absolutely right. Literacy is key for their betterment.”
“I’ve got a building. My servants are cleaning it. Now I’m looking for teachers.”
“Shall I talk to my angel about it? I’m going there later.”
“You are really certain you mean to pursue her?”
“I am, actually.” Never comfortable talking about his feelings, Frank squirmed a bit and sat up straight. “Are you all right for money for this project? I’d be willing to donate.”
“I’ll need books, once I get the teachers. Your help wouldn’t come amiss.”
“And Miss Edwards?”
“Please. Ask her about the project.”
~~*
As Frank strode through the streets, he mulled over his conversation with Shrewsbury. If he thought his glorious discovery of Sophie to have given him the edge over other men, he supposed he could forget it. Once she gave her public performance, everyone with eyes to see and ears to hear would glean the understanding he now had. She was, in addition to being an angel, a person of rare understanding. When he had first seen her in Buck’s drawing room, he had been taken by both her vulnerability and courage. He had known she was different.
But last night, she had changed everything. Now he yearned to hold her close, to protect her from those in society who, like Lila, had no idea of who she really was. At the same time, he wanted to applaud for her.
Frank had reached the shop where archery sets, croquet sets, and cricket paraphernalia were sold. Entering, he went at once to the women’s bows and began testing them. Fortunately, he found just what he wanted but had feared he would not find. A bow that need not be altered at all. He judged it to be perfect for his Sophie. As well as the bow, he bought a target and a quiverful of arrows. Frank waited impatiently while they were packaged, and then, hailing a hackney, made his way to the Marquis of Deal’s townhouse.
He was received by the butler, who informed him that the ladies were still out but were expected to return for tea, if he would care to wait. The marquis was in his library.
{ 9 }
EXCEPT FOR HER PERFORMANCE ENSEMBLE, such gowns as Sophie had ever owned had been stitched up by the family seamstress. Until the night of Melissa’s ball, she had never thought much about her gowns, having lived for the most part only in the family circle. Madame Colbert was clearly delighted to have the dressing of her. “Ma petite, you have the form parfait, and your coloring is so interresante. Those eyes, they are tres magnifique. For you, not the jewel colors. For you, the colors of springtime—the yellows, the soft greens, the pinks, the apricots.” As she spoke, she pointed to bolts of muslin and silk for her assistant to pull off the shelves. Draping Sophie with the different fabrics, she made notations with her pencil and murmured to herself in cockney English.
“You are petite, therefore you want to be élégant, not covered with the bows and the flounce.”
Madame clapped her hands sharply, and a young woman appeared, clothed only in a dressing gown. Speaking to her rapidly, Madame clapped her hands again. Then she asked Sophie and Fanny to be seated, placed a dish of petit fours at their side, and told them to enjoy themselves.
For the next hour, Sophie was entranced as walking dresses, day dresses, and evening gowns were modeled before her. Fanny told her what she would need, shaking her head when Sophie demurred over the number. At length, Sophie chose the styles she could see would flatter her most, was guided by Madame in the matter of color and fabric, and finally consented to go in the back of the store to be measured.
They arranged to take one of the modeled gowns that fit Sophie perfectly. It was an apricot muslin with a tiny ivory stripe, piped in gold and ivory. The bodice was ruffled in tiny Van Dyke pleats that rose up and were anchored into a collar by a strip of ivory lace, fluting the pleats about her face. It was a day gown, but by wearing it with its gold buttoned ivory spencer, it became a walking dress.
“My dear, you look a perfect angel,” Fanny said.
Sophie smiled to herself, wondering if Gorgeous Frank would think so.
“The other things, we will sew as fast as possible. You shall have the first in two days.”
Fanny agreed that she should wear her new dress and spencer home. She was very glad she did, for when they arrived there, it was to hear that Gorgeous Frank was visiting with Buck in his library. Perkins told Sophie and Fanny they were expected there upon their arrival home.
Both men stood upon their entrance, and after kissing his wife, Buck said, “Sophie, my dear! Your friend has something to show you. And I must say that is a splendid new gown.”
Trowbridge bowed over Sophie’s hand, his deep blue eyes alight. “We have been waiting this age. You must have ordered enough gowns for several seasons.”
“It was the greatest fun,” Sophie said. “I have never done anything like that before. However, I must say that I don’t believe Madame Colbert was any more French than I am. I heard her speaking Cockney to herself!”
“You are correct, my dear,” Fanny said. “I think I could have acted her role a sight better than she did. But she is reputedly a whiz with her designs. She dresses the most beautiful women in London.”
The company sat down. Fanny seated herself on the arm of Buck’s desk chair. Trowbridge and Sophie sat together on an upholstered bench. He said in a low voice, “I only hope the beauty of your gowns will not detract from the beauty of your face, Angel.”
“Extravagant as ever, my lord,” she whispered. “You will turn my head.”
“I have brought you your archery set.”
She was losing her presence of mind with Frank so near. Her skin was all prickles of heat. “You are very resourceful. Thank you.”
Buck interrupted them. “So, when are you going to give it a go, Sophie? I think it is a splendid idea. There is room for us to set it up in the back garden.”
Her sister was looking at her with a broad smile on her face.”Archery lessons, hmm,” Fanny said.
“I was thinking of tomorrow afternoon,” Frank said. He looked directly into her eyes. “But we must protect your brilliant hands. Have you leather gloves?”
“Gloves, yes. Gauntlets, no.”
“I should have thought. I will pick some up in the morning.”
He was wearing his public personality, and it was making her uncomfortable. She sought to puncture it.”Your orchid was beautiful, Frank. I have never seen one before. Thank you.”
In a low voice, he said, “I got it from Dr. Mowbray’s hot house. He said it was exceedingly rare. No other flower would do for you.”
“And the Byron was exquisite,” she whispered. “But not more so than your own words.”
He did not reply, and there was a nervous tic at his temple.
She saw Fanny watching them with a smile. Tea arrived.
“Are you quite certain that I will be able to become a decent archer? I am not convinced,” Sophie said in a normal voice.
“Believe me, Angel, I am the consummate instructor. You will do splendidly. Just give it a try.”
Her sister and Buck urged her on.
“All right. I will make you regret your boast if you are wrong,” Sophie said. “And if I become an archer, does that mean you will take lessons from me on the violin?”
“Certainly not. Archery is a simple matter. It would be almost blasphemy for me to pick up the violin. But I will happily learn to play the tambourine. I think percussion is my métier. I have always loved to pound things and make noise.”
Sophie laughed.
“There is something that you can do to repay me for the archery lessons, however.”
“Yes?” she asked with some trepidation.
“Lord Shrewsbury, my good friend, is organizing a school for girls. The orphans in the East End. He wants to teach them to read. Would you be willing to donate some of your time as a teacher?”
Sophie blinked. Why was she surprised that he was involved in such a venture? He had mentioned to her at the ball his concerns for the poor.
“I would be most happy to help. I think that is a splendid idea! I would do it even without the archery lessons, you know.”
“Do you think perhaps Lady Melissa would be willing to teach, as well?”
“I am certain she would. She is very good with children.”
“I would be interested, too,” Fanny said. “As soon as Alexa no longer needs me at her beck and call. Speaking of whom, I had better go to her. But I think it a marvelous idea, Frank.”
“Good! I will tell Shrewsbury.” He stood. “Now, I will take my leave. But I will return tomorrow afternoon at two o’clock.”
They both rose from the bench, and he saluted her with a kiss on her bare knuckles. Sophie’s whole arm prickled, and the kiss seemed to go straight to her fluttering heart. Get hold of yourself, my girl!
She smiled and bade him good day.
~~*
As Sophie lay in her bed, she tried to think rationally about Frank. He was gorgeous, and that was for certain. She had not been exposed to many fashionable men in her life, but he had an unmistakable air of confidence and competence.
Thinking about the first time she had seen him, her stomach quivered as she remembered how his face had changed from laughter to serious regard as he looked at her. What had he been thinking?
Compliments had rolled off his tongue that night, with the sure practice of an expert. Had he meant any of them?
There had been a sea change in him last night. They had connected. She was certain they had. But today, he seemed, for the most part, to be falling back on his classic wit and extravagance. Perhaps he did not know how to act when they were in company.
If only she need not have a chaperone! They could recapture that intimacy of last night. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before. Just thinking of it brought to mind words like exquisite, velvet, and starry. They had both stepped into another realm when she began to play. No wonder he had had recourse to Byron. But she did prefer his own words: Angel, you have given me a gift so rare I cannot find the phrases to describe it. But Byron almost has the words to define you in your black silk and cameo. And the orchid symbolizes your rarity. With my heart, Frank.
~~*
Frank arrived at precisely two o’clock. Sophie had not had time to change out of the unflattering blue muslin round gown she had worn for rehearsal that morning. Fanny and Sophie greeted him together.
“Good afternoon, ladies! Sophie, are you prepared to become a serious archer?”
“I am not perfectly certain,” she said, keeping her face straight.
Raising an eyebrow, he told her, “Surely, as a serious violinist, you know not to face challenges in a tepid manner. Nothing is to be gained that way.”
“Let us proceed to the back garden,” she said. “You are very good to teach me.”
Frank set up the target, then paced off the distance to the place where Sophie should stand. Fanny sat watching in a garden seat, wearing a large sun bonnet, cradling Alexa in her arms. Sophie donned her new gauntlets and took up the bow, holding it as she had watched others do.
Trowbridge said, “Here, let me show you.” Putting both arms around her, he placed a hand over each of hers. She was locked in his arms so closely, she could smell the citrus of the cologne he wore. His strongly muscled arms held her encircled completely. Heat prickled over her whole body.
“You nock the arrow just so. Then you close one eye and, stretching out the bowstring, you look with your other eye along the length of the arrow to the target,” he said. “Line them up.”
She tried to do as he suggested, but it was impossible to concentrate with his arms around her.
“Angel!” he said, his voice husky. “You are trembling. Relax the bow.”
Putting his hands on her shoulders, he turned her to face him and looked into her eyes.
“Lord Trowbridge, are you trying to seduce me?” she asked in a low voic
e.
“What?” His forehead bunched, his eyes showed outrage.
“I may be just a green girl, but I cannot think of one other reason why you would contrive to have me in your arms.”
Full of some odd energy, he clutched his fists and paced about in a circle. “Not a single other reason?” He paced some more, finally coming to a halt in front of her. “Have you forgotten the night before last? I believe your soul actually seared mine, Sophie. Archery is but a game. But my feelings for you, though I make light of them most of the time, are not. And I am Frank, Sophie.”
She could only nod.
“When men have these sorts of feelings for a woman, unless she is married, they pursue them. If she is a virtuous young woman, and they are decent men, they do not do so with seduction in mind, but with serious intent. Honorable intent.”
Sophie stared at him. “You are telling me that you have … serious intentions toward me?”
“How can you doubt it? I am utterly and completely entranced by you, Sophie. I all but worship you.”
She continued staring.
He took her chin in one hand and raised it. “Believe it, Angel. I am in earnest.”
“I think I would like to resume my lesson,” she said in a low voice.
Frank looked over to where Fanny had sat watching them. Sophie followed his eyes. To her surprise, Fanny was nowhere to be seen.
Her archery instructor took the bow and arrow out of her hands and tossed them on the ground. Putting both arms around her, he pulled her close with great energy. “At last,” he murmured.
With his arms around her, she felt once more shrouded in the velvet intimacy they had shared after the Mozart. But now a wave of heat ran through her and a swirling sensation began in her abdomen and twirled up to her heart. She laid her head upon his chest, and Frank held her tightly to him like a precious find.
“Angel, you feel perfect in my arms. But you are trembling again.”
Three Original Ladies 02 - Lord Trowbridge’s Angel Page 5