Three Original Ladies 02 - Lord Trowbridge’s Angel

by G. G. Vandagriff

  Sophie felt her knees go, and collapsed on the chair behind her, staring straight ahead. She could not think, she could only feel. A rush of fury hardened her jaw. How could Frank treat Melissa thus? And so much for all his protestations of undying love for her! She was not out of his presence for more than a few days and he had lapsed back into his old ways. All the tender feelings she had felt for him during her sojourn flooded her, and she cut them off, one by one.

  “Oh dear,” Bella said from some place far away. “What have I done?”

  Kneeling in front of Sophie, she clasped her hands. “My wicked, wicked tongue! Oh, Sophie, dear, forgive me!”

  Bella. Joseph. Beethoven.

  In a daze, Sophie stood. “Let us proceed with our rehearsal.”

  “Are you certain?” Bella asked. “Perhaps we should leave. You have had a shock, Sophie. You do not look at all the thing.”

  “Yes. We must proceed. We only have a week and a half before our performance.”

  Sophie stood, braced by her anger, and walked to where her violin case lay open on the piano. Taking up her instrument, she began to tune it. “An A please, Bella.”

  Joseph took out his cello and began tuning as well. He had already set out the music on their stands.

  Their tuning complete, he looked at Sophie, his face still grave, and bowed his head sharply. Her cue to begin. They commenced the rehearsal.

  Channeling all her emotion into her performance, Sophie’s world shrank. It was just Beethoven, her violin, Joseph, and Bella. With every piece she had ever played, there was a moment of understanding that came when she saw the music from the inside out, when she was one with the composer. This was that moment. As she drew her bow across the strings, as her fingers flew along the fingerboard, she focused on Herr van Beethoven. Instinctively, she realized he had written this piece when he was possessed by fury. The strings were his anger, the piano his palliative.

  When she drew the bow over her strings for the final note, Sophie knew a sense of victory.

  For a moment, she was alone, inside her own performance.

  “Sophie, you were magnificent!” Joseph said. “You have brought our little trio to a new height. Brava!”

  “Thank you. Shall we begin again?”

  ~~*

  When the Carstairs left, Sophie’s extraordinary energy went with them. Fanny found her in the morning room, staring into the fireplace.

  “It is time for luncheon, love,” she said.

  Sophie rose and followed Fanny without a word. When they were seated and the soup had been placed before them, Fanny said, “You are white as a sheet, Soph. Tell me what is wrong.”

  “Frank is shaming Melissa by appearing in public with his mistress hanging all over him.”

  “Oh, dear. Are you certain it is not part of a ruse to break the engagement?”

  “Do you really think I would take a man that would treat my dearest friend with such a public humiliation?” Sophie snapped. “Poor Melissa has feelings for him, I am sure of it.”

  “Admit it, Sophie. You are primarily incensed because he appears to have gone back to Lady Manwaring in your absence. If that is the case, I do not blame you.”

  “How could I have misjudged him so?” Sophie asked, her voice cracking on a sob. “I thought our love was a one in a million love and that he had truly changed. I gave him my trust, Fan, not just my love. I was so naïve.”

  “Well, since Buck is not here, I can give vent to my dismay and say that Frank is a shockingly loose screw.”

  “Fan!” Sophie was startled for only a moment. “I think that describes Frank to perfection.”

  As usual, Fanny knew how to shock her out of her melancholy. Sophie was even able to eat her luncheon. Afterward, she said, “I feel I should call on Melissa. Would you please come with me?”

  “If I can bring Alexa.”

  “Of course. Alexa will brighten everyone’s day.”

  ~~*

  Melissa’s drawing room was full of callers, and her friend was chattering nineteen to the dozen. This told Sophie that Melissa was madly fending off distress. Frank’s open shaming of her the night before was obviously the latest on dit. With another flash of anger, she realized that Frank had put Melissa in this false position by engaging her help to find Sophie’s chamber in the first place. Though Sophie had considered it the height of romance at the time, it was truly ill-considered.

  She made her way to her friend’s side, saying, “Excuse me, ma’am,” to the dowager who sat at Melissa’s side. “I have just returned to London and am full of news for Lady Melissa.”

  The dowager removed herself from her place, looking down her nose at Sophie. “Forward gel.”

  “Melissa! I have so much to tell you. It looks as though we have found a place for the Orphans’ School.”

  Her friend blinked.

  Sophie continued. “It is to be in Chipping Norton. Or actually, just outside the village.” She continued a spirited monologue that covered every last detail of their plans. By the time she had finished, most of the ill-bred, avaricious callers had disappeared.

  When the last guest finally left, a fair haired, extremely handsome man was announced as Lord Oaksey. Sophie remembered the day that now seemed so long ago when Melissa had waltzed around this very room with this man’s bouquet for a partner.

  “I must get back, Melissa dear,” she said. “I just wanted to assure myself that you are well. I leave you in Lord Oaksey’s care.”

  She and Fanny, who had been displaying her daughter to all and sundry, quietly left and returned home.

  { 32 }

  FRANK KNEW THAT HE WAS THE SUBJECT of unfavorable gossip all over town. He was anxious that Sophie not hear the gossip before he could explain himself. He had been paying an urchin to watch for Sophie’s return to the Deals.’ Hoping he would arrive before the chatter, he called upon her the morning after she arrived and was told that she was rehearsing. He called again after luncheon and was told she had gone out. The third time he called, his card was taken up, but Perkins returned to say that Miss Edwards was not at home to visitors.

  His heart sank to his boots. He asked to see the marchioness and was subsequently admitted to the afternoon parlor—a sunny yellow room overlooking the street.

  “Good afternoon, Fanny,” he said. She looked up from what appeared to be her embroidery of a baby dress.

  “Frank, you are in the suds,” Fanny replied, giving him her hand. “Sophie is quite furious with you.”

  “What has she heard?” he asked.

  “That you were at Westhaven’s rout, dangling after Lady Manwaring, with your fiancée standing not five feet away.”

  “If that were true, she would have every right to be angry with me. However, Lady Manwaring was forcing her attentions on me. The rout was an absolute crush, the way these routs always are, and I had no idea that Lady Melissa was standing so close or I would have made an immediate effort to explain that things were not as they appeared.”

  “But you did try to explain?”

  “Yes. And I would lay odds that she agreed with me. However, she said the truth did not matter at that point, as the ton believed her to be overtly and purposefully scorned and that we had become the latest on dit.”

  “Well, Frank, you are in a difficult position, I am afraid. Let me see if I can get it right. You want to marry Sophie, but you have compromised her best friend and are engaged to her. You have openly scorned Melissa by appearing to dote on your mistress. Sophie is angry at you for treating her best friend with such contempt. You cannot hope to gain her back even if you do succeed in breaking your engagement, unless you first do all that you can to repair that engagement. Even if Melissa were to cry off herself, I do not think Sophie would have you at this point.”

  “This coil gets perpetually worse!”

  “Yes, it would seem so.” Fanny took up her embroidery again. “Would you care for tea?”

  “Tea? I’m afraid only a brandy will do. Thank y
ou for seeing me.”

  “You must take some steps to deal with Lady Manwaring, Frank. This is not the first time she has caused you problems.”

  “You are right. I must clean house, as they say.”

  ~~*

  Of course, Lila was overjoyed to see him.

  “I knew you’d come,” she said. Her face held such delight that he felt a qualm. His anger still simmered, but he didn’t let it get the better of him.

  As she was about to sweep him into her boudoir, he halted on the landing. “Let us go into the drawing room, if you do not mind.”

  The gold and white room was decorated to set off Lila’s striking looks. Today, she wore tangerine muslin and delicate gold jewelry.

  “Lila, you and I must have a talk. You know we must.”

  She pouted.

  “You are a married woman, needless to say. As such, our relationship was limited to what it was from the very beginning. There was never any chance of its becoming anything more.”

  She put a hand to her forehead as though she were trying to block out his words.

  “Because of your position in society, it was possible for you to be my mistress without any diminution of your social standing. Ours was a well-known liaison, was it not?”

  “I suppose it was,” she acknowledged with a shrug.

  Frank stood and began pacing the hearth rug, choosing his words with care. “I am here to tell you in the firmest possible way that it has come to an end. I do not wish to cause you pain, however. This day was inevitable, and we both knew it. Even though your husband is conveniently absent, the time has come that I very much wish to marry.”

  Lila looked at him with eyes that resembled those of a wounded puppy. “And what difference does that make? Most married men in this town have a mistress as well as a wife.”

  “That is an exaggeration, I believe. And then there is the fact,” he came and stood directly before her. “that I am very much in love.”

  “Frank, you are not fun anymore. You have lost your wit. Your sense of humor. You are drearily serious.”

  “My situation is serious. This is no drawing room comedy, and I wish you to understand that. You have caused a scandal and seriously affronted my fiancée.”

  “Come now, Frank. You have caused a scandal yourself and that is why you are engaged to someone you do not even love. All this talk of being in love …”

  “You are right about my engagement. However, Miss Edwards is privy to the situation surrounding my engagement. It is Miss Edwards that I love, but Lady Melissa is her best friend. We are trying to rid ourselves of this coil in a satisfactory manner, and you are doing nothing but making the matter a good deal worse than it needs to be.”

  “Perhaps Lady Melissa will now call off the engagement, and I will have been a help to you.”

  “She would still be ruined in that case. And her reputation would not be improved by crying off for such a scandalous reason.” Setting his fists on his hips, he said, “I have come here to ask your cooperation, Lila. For the sake of whatever fondness you may have felt for me in the past, please refrain from addressing me in public in a way that seems to indicate that our relationship is ongoing.”

  His former mistress elevated her chin and came to her feet, sweeping her dress about her. “I never thought to find you to be so unfeeling, Frank.”

  He could feel his temper rising. “Lila, you cannot pretend to feel any grande passion for me! Ours was never even an exclusive arrangement. You have had many lovers!”

  “I dislike losing,” she said, elevating an eyebrow. The pout was gone, and now she looked like what she was: a dangerous female.

  “Would you like me to repudiate you in public, then? That is the only choice you are offering me.”

  Her eyes grew round.

  “You would do that?”

  “It is not beneath me.”

  “I would be greatly distressed. I do not believe you would do it!”

  “I will prove it to you, if you pull another stunt like you pulled at the rout the other night.”

  “I would like you to leave now,” Lila said. “I do not wish to hear any more.”

  Frank clamped his beaver back onto his head and took leave.

  ~~*

  Sitting in the writing room at Brook’s, he penned a letter to Lady Melissa.

  My dear lady Melissa,

  I have spoken to Lady Manwaring and have warned her that if she ever approaches me again in the manner in which she did at the rout that I will repudiate her. I know it is a harsh step, but she would not agree to refrain from such actions in the future of her own free will. I hope this will go some way toward smoothing the relations between us. Though neither of us asked for this engagement, I do mean to treat you well and fairly. I do not wish for you to become a by-word among the ton.

  I should like to escort you to Lady Herbert’s masquerade this evening. Please forgive me for that which you have suffered because of me.

  Most sincerely,

  Frank

  He wanted desperately to write to Sophie to make amends for what she saw as his improper behavior, but knew that she would take any declaration from him at this point as a further strike against her friend.

  Fanny was right. It was a damnable coil. He had to be the perfectly mannered fiancé and yet manage to find a way to get free of the engagement without scandal. Only then could he set about mending things between him and his dearest Sophie.

  ~~*

  Frank appeared at the Aldridges’ home that evening, dressed in a scarlet domino, carrying his loo mask. He waited in the front parlor for Lady Melissa to appear.

  In she came, escorted by Lord Donald. To his surprise, she was a very sophisticated Cleopatra, wearing a black wig, a gold lamé dress that clung slightly to her form, a gold bracelet on her upper arm, and a gold circlet over her wig. Her brother was outfitted as Anthony, in Roman soldier’s garb.

  “Well done!” Frank exclaimed. “You look very well indeed.”

  “And you?” Lady Melissa inquired. “Is that supposed to be a costume?”

  “A domino is acceptable. I did not decide to attend until the last minute. Have you masks?”

  They showed him the identical gold masks they carried.

  “Shall we be off, then?”

  Lady Melissa proved to be in high demand at the masquerade, particularly by a Red Indian who wore a fabulous headdress, a leather vest that showed much of his red-stained, well-muscled chest, and a leather kilt arrangement that came only to his knees.

  Frank’s fiancée seemed to know who he was, but Frank remained ignorant. Her dance card filled in a hurry, and he was lucky to secure the supper dance. He had planned on staying by her side throughout the evening, but with all the gentlemen intent on claiming dances, he soon found himself de trop.

  Standing on the sidelines, his mind went to Sophie, following its accustomed path. He ached to see her. He longed for the restfulness of her angel-like countenance. He wished more than he could express to travel with her to that world where her violin carried him. Frank was beginning to know himself better, and he knew that he was losing touch with that world and all that it represented in his life.

  What would the angel do if confronted by a masked, red domino? Buck’s house was near to this one. Perhaps he could slip away for a few moments. Perhaps if he did not present his own name, she would consent to see him.

  { 33 }

  SOPHIE WAS PRACTICING HER VIOLIN in the drawing room where Fanny was embroidering a dress for Alexa when Perkins entered, saying, “A gentleman in a red domino has called, my lady.”

  “Oh!” Fanny said, “It is Lady Hasting’s masquerade tonight! The carriages and chaises were backed up almost to our front door. Has some poor soul gotten lost?”

  “I suppose it is Frank, or perhaps Lord Shrewsbury,” Sophie said, laying her violin and bow on the game table. “Maybe there is no harm in letting him come in.”

  Her undisciplined heart lurched in her breast at
the idea of seeing Frank, even in a mask. It was clearly he who strode into the room, for he wore no head covering and she recognized his black hair with its distinctive wave. She stood where she was, staring. All the reasons she had for turning him away flew out of her head.

  “Goodness, you look dramatic, Frank!” Fanny said. “Have you escaped from the party and left your fiancée?”

  “Tonight Lady Melissa is Cleopatra, and has attracted such a court of followers that I was only allowed the supper dance, which is not until midnight.”

  Sophie’s spirits lifted at this news. Apparently, Melissa was going to escape social ruin. Frank was acknowledging her as his fiancée. But she asked, “And Lady Manwaring? Who is she tonight?”

  “I have not the slightest idea,” Frank said, striding further into the room until he stood directly in front of her. He put hands on her shoulders and looked down into her face. “I have informed her that the next time she latches on to me the way she did the other night, I will publicly repudiate her. I know it sounds harsh, but it was the only threat I could use to make her see reason. I do not imagine she is madly in love with me. I think it is just that her vanity is hurt.”

  Sophie moved out of his vicinity by taking a chair before the fireplace. “Heaven knows how long it will take for the slight you offered Melissa to be forgotten.”

  “It was certainly not intentional. You have never been to a rout, Sophie. Fanny, will you not describe a rout to your sister?”

  Fanny gave a little laugh and said, “The ambition of every hostess of a rout is to have so many people attend that it is termed a ‘crush.’ The object of the evening is to converse, but that is made exceedingly difficult because one can hardly hear oneself think.”

  “So,” Frank said, “Even though Lady Melissa might have been close to me in purely geographical terms, there were at least two conversational circles between us.”

  Sophie was quiet. Frank always seemed to have a facile answer for everything.

  “Sophie?” he asked. “Do you forgive me for the unintentional slight of your friend?”