Chapter Six
“You will marry the chit,” commanded the duke, bringing his hand forcefully down on the desk as Vale, hands held tensely behind his back and a look of thunderous defiance on his face, stood rebelliously before him.
“I will do no such thing,” he responded, mirroring his father’s frown. “You may not have noticed sir, but I am well past the age of my majority and you have no power whatsoever over my actions. I am my own man.”
“Not where the honor of the Blake name is concerned,” responded the duke. “She is undoubtedly a young lady of quality and you, in your foolhardy scheme, have compromised her. Therefore it is your duty to marry her.”
“My duty, sir? My duty be damned! There has been no impropriety whatsoever. We have but enjoyed each other’s company.”
“That is not how society will see it. She is not one of your lightskirts; she is a lady of quality. She will be ruined; her reputation will be in tatters.”
“Then that for society and its small minded ways,” replied the earl, snapping his fingers and turning on his heel, but his father’s words halted his heated departure.
“What of your mother? Is she to be continually reminded of your indiscretions? Why should she have the need to defend you when your scandals are brought to her notice by every tabby of her acquaintance?”
Vale halted and turned to face the duke, his face softening slightly and his anger abating somewhat. “You know I wouldn’t wish to hurt my mother in any way, but I will not be coerced into marriage and I am damned sure Sophie has no more wish to marry me than I have to wed her. Besides, it would not suit my purpose to enter into the most holy state of matrimony.”
“Because it would bring about a halt to your rake- shame existence?” scorned the duke at his most awful. “Put a stop to your gaming and wenching?”
“I doubt that it could,” Vale scorned in return, equaling his father’s anger. “No wife will put the chains on me, sir, I do assure you.”
“Then you are a bigger fool than I gave you credit for! You cannot continue to conduct your life in your present hellish manner.”
“You did sir, or do you so conveniently forget the reputation you gained before you married Mother? I believe it to be somewhat worse than mine.”
The duke dropped his gaze to contemplate the desk before him but not before his son had seen the slight curving of his lips at the memories his words evoked. Then, returning his gaze to his son, his countenance hardened and he renewed his abrupt manner. “Do not think to side-track me, Dominic. This coil must be resolved.”
Uttering an oath beneath his breath, Vale turned on his heel and strode from the room, slamming the door behind him. So enraged was he that he failed to see the pathetic little form standing the other side of the door as he brushed passed her, not realizing that she had heard all that had transpired. He had thought her to have returned to her aunt’s house but instead, terrified of the consequences of the duke’s arrival, she had crept along the corridor to listen nervously at the door. Wiping the tears from her face Sophie heard a movement within the room as if his grace was rising from his desk and without waiting to face him and his accusations, she ran the length of the corridor and out into the grounds.
*****
Vale saw nothing of Sophie over the next few days. Indeed, although he had returned to their usual meeting place on several occasions, there had been no sign of her. The duchess, upon receiving a letter of explanation from her husband and imagining how things would stand between father and son, followed him down to Stovely in an attempt to ease the situation. Her first interview with her son left her somewhat confused as she attempted to explain to the duke over supper that evening.
“I don’t understand. There is nothing at all of the lover in his attitude toward her, Marcel,” she said, with a small frown creasing her brow. “He talks of her as a boy, indeed he seems to have treated her as a boy. Although his actions have been foolish, I believe him when he says there has been no impropriety. A scoundrel he may be, but for all that, he is not so blatant as to bring his current light-o-love to Stovely. Even he has more respect for his parents than to serve us in that manner.”
“Do not believe it, my dear,” replied the duke, pushing away his plate and taking up his wineglass. “I have seen the girl, and if Dominic thinks only of her as a boy, then he is a bigger fool than I gave him credit for. You have only to see the child to realize where the attraction lies.”
“Ho, caught your eye, did she?” said the duchess, with a chuckle.
“You know very well she did not,” he reproved. “I am merely stating fact. Young men of Dominic’s age are not in the habit of giving fencing lessons to young ladies of quality, especially not ones who dress like a boy, and certainly not out of the goodness of their heart. I swear, there is more to it than meets the eye.”
“Do you think she has designs on him?” asked the duchess, confining her gaze to the tablecloth and tracing the pattern with her finger.
“She appeared artless enough when I first spoke to her, but one can never tell. She disappeared before I could have any further conversation with her. Let us hope that she does not reappear and this is the end to the episode. Now that you are here the boy will not dare flaunt his indiscretions. He cares too much for your opinion and values your approval.”
*****
Vale did not share his father’s thoughts on the subject; he continued to ride over to the boundaries in hopes of meeting Sophie. Now that his mother was here he could bring her to Stovely without comment and he was sure that once the duchess had met her and heard the girl’s story she would be only too willing to help.
On the morning of the fifth day of Sophie’s absence, he was just about to mount his horse in the stable yard intent on riding to her aunt’s house, when a groom brought a young boy of about twelve before him. “This young gentleman has been asking for your lordship,” informed the groom pushing the boy before him. “Wants a private word with you, sir.”
“My name is David,” said the boy, taking matters into his own hands and coming to stand before Vale. “I am Sophie’s brother.”
“Come into the office,” said Vale, handing his horse over to the groom and leading the way across the stable yard toward the house, entering through a side entrance.
“We will not be disturbed in here,” he said, holding open the door to a small room at the rear, and the boy passed inside.
“Now, what’s to do?” asked his lordship. “How is your sister? Indeed, where is your sister? I have been looking to see her these past five days.”
“She’s gone, sir,” said David, twisting his fingers before him. “Our aunt has found out about her visiting Stovely and she said that she was coming to see the duke to try to make you marry her. If you do not, then she declares that she will tell all and try to shame you into it.”
“Lord, not your aunt as well.” Vale groaned, putting his hand to his brow. “Why must it be necessary for all this interference...” then stopping, “Gone? You say she is gone? Gone where?”
“She has taken my savings, which are not much sir, and she caught the accommodation coach that left The Boar for London at five this morning. I know she does not have enough money to take her all the way and they will put her down short. She made me promise not to tell you where she had gone; indeed, I was to tell no one. But though she would not tell you, she almost starved when she was in London before, my lord, and it terrified her.”
Vale cursed softly and long, filling David with wonder and admiration at his fluency. “She will not be put through that again, I swear,” he said through clenched teeth. “The diligence is slow; I will have no trouble overtaking it. Does she wear her breeches?”
“Yes sir.”
“Good, then I need not take a carriage, I will make better time. Go back to your aunt and say nothing, make some excuse for your sister’s absence. I will sort this matter.” So saying he strode from the office, leaving David to follow as best he might. Rea
ching the stables he called for Merlin to be saddled, knowing he would make good time.
*****
The accommodation coach took but one route on its journey from Portsmouth to London and as it was full to capacity was not able to achieve more than eight miles an hour. Sophie was fortunate enough to have secured an inside seat and was firmly wedged between a large farmer with a florid countenance and a man in a flowered waistcoat who had fallen asleep and snored heavily. The farmer’s wife, sitting opposite, smiled kindly at her and would have struck up a conversation had not Sophie closed her eyes and feigned sleep. She had no desire to talk to anyone, indeed, she was fearful of attempting to talk lest she should start to cry again. She had spent the whole of the previous night in despair, not knowing what to do for the best. She could not allow her aunt to approach the duke to try to coerce Dominic into marrying her; she would have no such pressure put on him. If he should marry her it must be because…but what was the use in that train of thought? She knew very well that he did not. Who would wish for a wife under those circumstances? The thought of London terrified her, yet what else could she do? At least once there she could lose herself amongst the back streets.
The coach stopped at about eight to change horses and all the passengers alighted to take some refreshment at the inn, but having no money she remained inside. Seeing that she did not get down from the vehicle, the farmer’s wife gave her a piece of gingerbread from her basket.
“A young sir like you must have something in his stomach of a morning,” she said and smiled kindly as she joined her husband in the inn.
Sophie waited impatiently for the coach to recommence its journey and heaved a sigh of relief when the passengers once more clambered inside. Though why she was so eager to reach her journey’s end she knew not, for the driver had informed her that her money would not take her all the way and she would have to make the last ten miles on foot. At the stop they had been joined by several more outside passengers who sang rollicking songs which jangled on her nerves and the tears stood in her eyes.
A few miles further down the road, as it turned a bend, the coach was brought to an abrupt halt making the horses plunge and almost dislodging the roof passengers. The farmer’s wife looked out the window to see what caused the delay and a lone rider was seen to bar the road.
“Lawks, young sir, it’s a highwayman,” she cried nervously.
“Not at this time of day and on this road, it is too well frequented,” replied her husband impatiently. “Don’t be so silly, woman.”
“Then who is it, who is it?” she replied puffing out her rosy cheeks indignantly.
Sophie knew. As soon as she heard that well-loved voice, she knew, and attempted to push herself further back into the squabs, hoping to go unnoticed beside the farmer’s bulk.
Vale brought his horse to the coach door and without dismounting flung it wide, peering into the shadowed interior. Seeing Sophie cowering back, much to the confusion of her fellow travelers, he expostulated, “Jack, you obstinate girl, don’t think you can elude me that easily. Have done with this behavior and get down immediately. This is nonsense.”
Sophie rose from her seat and would have attempted to escape by the opposite door if Vale had not quickly leaned from the saddle and plucked her from the interior. Depositing her none too gently face down across Merlin’s withers, he pinioned her with his arm lest she should attempt to flee again.
As the farmer’s wife would have exclaimed at his rough handling, he made a short bow, smiling at his most charming. “You must forgive me ladies and gentlemen for interrupting your journey,” he said, “but you must understand that my young cousin here is a most wayward son. He is always attempting to abscond from his mama. He has the notion to join the navy, a fact that compels me to be forever retrieving him from the most unlikely of places.”
As Sophie would have protested at this, he held her even more tightly, which served as a warning to hold her tongue.
The farmer nodded his agreement. “The young are indeed a trial to us all sir, but to be honest, I would not have suspected this young man of being a trial to anyone.”
“No, so innocent he looks,” interpolated his wife. “Such an endearing little face.”
Vale grinned devilishly. “Don’t let that face deceive you, it hides a character the likes of which you would not believe.”
This was not to go unchallenged and Sophie dug a sharp elbow into his ribs and attempted to wriggle free of his hold. “You will let me go,” she demanded fiercely, but this only had the effect of making his lordship tighten his grip even more until it made it difficult for her to breath.
“I see that you do indeed have your hands full with the young lad,” said the farmer, chuckling, “but he does not lack spirit, a real game ‘un.”
“Very game indeed,” Vale agreed, grinning. “One can certainly not bemoan his lack of spirit, but he will feel my hand if he does not cease his fidgeting. Even in full view of so keen an audience, I shall have no compunction whatsoever in laying my hand across him if he continues to struggle.”
Believing him, Sophie abated her attempts at freedom for the moment and lay meekly across the horse’s withers. “Dear cousin, please let me down,” she wheedled, “I promise I will not run away again.”
“You will not have the opportunity, Jack, for I certainly will not let you down. You are headed for home and your mama.” At this, a murmur of approval issued from the occupants of the coach and smiling, Vale once more executed a short bow. “I will keep you good people from your journey no longer. Please accept my apologies for the delay.”
Amidst calls of approval, the coach lumbered forward leaving the two on an empty road.
“Please will you not let me down, Dominic,” Sophie pleaded, trying to see his face. “Indeed, I will not attempt to run away, I promise you.”
“I will let you down when you tell me what you are at, you silly chit,” replied Vale in a severe tone she had not heard before.
“You don’t understand, sir,” she replied, tears in her voice. “My aunt... your father...”
“Oh, I understand only too well,” he replied in a quieter tone, allowing her to slip to her feet and dismounting to stand before her. “Your brother came to see me. How else would I have known where to find you? How else could I have retrieved you? This is not at all necessary. It is not the answer. You can’t be forever absconding. I am taking you to my mother and I want no more of your silly ideas. We will explain all to her and I know she will help. We are not such a fierce family as we would have you believe, though you would not know it. Be assured, my parents can be quite understanding when the occasion arises. Have they not had me as a son to contend with, and who would prove a more severe trial to their patience than I? Come, up behind me and we return to Stovely.” Then grinning, “Always knew those breeches of yours would serve some purpose. Now up, I will brook no defiance.”
Smiling now, once Vale was mounted, Sophie stood on the toe of his boot and he swung her up behind him and after only a moment’s hesitation, she put her arms about his waist the better to keep her seat.
*****
The duchess listened intently to Sophie’s story, tears coming to her eyes when told of the beating and her subsequent plight, even being indignant at her aunt’s treatment.
Taking hold of Sophie’s hand as she sat beside her on the chaise, she said with decision, “You shall come to me. When it is seen that I too am at Stovely, any talk of impropriety will be dismissed.” Then, smiling, “Indeed, my dear, although the official season is almost over, I have a mind to introduce you to society. I will bring you out. Regina is eighteen and she is already out, though Isabella is only fifteen and will remain in the schoolroom for another year. It will be delightful. I will inform your aunt. She should not object, especially when it is known that you will be under my aegis.”
“But what of the duke...?” began Sophie.
“You need not worry your head about my husband,” assured the d
uchess. “If approached in the correct manner, he can be quite reasonable. Indeed, he will add weight to any scheme I may evolve.”
She turned to her son who had remained silent, standing by the hearth throughout the whole discourse. “It is the end of the half-year in two weeks, Dominic; will you not abandon your rooms and come to stay at Blake House? I would so enjoy having you with us again.”
His lordship grinned. “But father would not. One must have consideration for his temper. No, I will keep my rooms and so my independence. I fought hard and long for it and it would not do to give it up now. However, it does not mean that I will not keep my eye on you, brat,” he said, tweaking one of Sophie’s curls as he passed her chair, not noticing that his mother looked sharply at him, an unspoken question in her eyes.
*****
Sophie’s aunt posed no problem. Indeed she was relieved to be rid of her charge and if it was to so eminent a personage as her Grace the Duchess of Lear, then so much the better. She even still harbored secret hopes of a match with the young earl, such could still not be ruled out. However, it must be said that she gained no satisfaction whatsoever from her interview with the duchess. Upon reflection, she thought her grace a little too high in the instep for her taste, even though she had been so obliging as to state that she would bear the whole of the expenses involved in bringing her niece out into society. And what if the young earl could not be brought up to scratch, then at least Sophie would be in the company of others of rank and fortune and did she not have a pretty enough face to recommend her? Perhaps when she too became a person of rank and fortune she would not forget her aunt who had so kindly taken her in when she was in need.
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