For the Lady of Lowena (A Cornish Romance Book 2)

by Deborah M. Hathaway

  Frederick struggled to swallow the meat that turned dry in his mouth. Had he been wrong about her? He thought, what with her behavior on the beach, that she was different than most women. Could he have been so distracted with his hopeful views of Cornwall that he had not noticed her performance?

  Miss Rosewall laughed at another of Mr. Singleton’s prepared compliments. This time, the sound, those lilting bells, reverberated in Frederick’s ears and scratched at his soul.

  He longed to leave but forced himself to remain seated, though the meal stretched out, and Miss Rosewall proved herself incapable of being silent for a single moment.

  “Have you seen Mr. Chester’s new horse?” she asked anyone who would listen. “He is so elegant with his white coat. Of course, such a marvelous horse deserves a marvelous rider, and he certainly has one in Mr. Chester.”

  Mr. Chester straightened in his seat and glanced around to ensure everyone had heard the compliment. “You exaggerate, Miss Rosewall. I do enjoy the exercise, but you are a far better rider than I could ever be.”

  “No, I assure you. You are as superior a rider as I have ever seen. You have so many talents, sir.”

  “And what of me, Miss Rosewall?” Mr. Singleton asked. “What talents do I possess?”

  Frederick nearly groaned. Was this man truly anxious for attention from a woman who extended compliments cheaper than a two-pence sweet?

  He tried to chew another bite of his food, but it rolled about his mouth, tasteless, as Miss Rosewall leaned toward Mr. Singleton.

  “You, sir, have just as many talents as your friend, I assure you,” she said. “Your dancing, for one thing, exceeds the abilities of half the gentlemen in Cornwall. Indeed, I know at least a dozen women who look forward to having you as their partner for every ball, for they know you would never deign to tread on their slippers.”

  Frederick shook his head at the laughter that followed. How could he have been so stupid as to think she might have only had eyes for Frederick when they had only just met?

  She turned to him next, flashing a charming grin. He’d warned himself about that smile. Fortunately he had realized the truth before he’d fallen too far.

  “Now, Mr. Hawkins,” she said, “do not think I have forgotten about you. Indeed, I have saved the best for last. But I fear I am not acquainted with you well enough to know what your talents are. Though, if I didn’t know any better, I would assume that you are an excellent hunter. Especially with your hounds.”

  Her twinkling eyes hinted at their time together on the beach, and confusion tormented his mind. Which was the real Miss Rosewall? The one who slept on a beach without stockings or gloves and laughed at herself for tripping in the sand? Or the attention-seeking woman who spouted flirtatious remarks, believing she could win any gentleman she wished?

  He bounced his knee unobtrusively beneath the table. He was not going to get caught up in all of this. If she partook in games like the women in London, expressing interest in a man only until a wealthier gentleman came along, he refused to play. She was not the only woman in Cornwall, nor was she the only woman in the room.

  She was in need of a little humbling, and if the arrangement he’d just made with her father had not done the job, he knew what would.

  “Yes, Miss Rosewall,” he responded. “I do enjoy hunting. Though I assure you, I do not excel so very much as to warrant any praise from you.” Her confident look faded, and he faced forward before she could say another word. “Miss Kinsey, how long have you been staying with your aunt?”

  * * *

  Sophia blinked mutely at Mr. Hawkins. Had she said something offensive to warrant his brushing her aside? Miss Kinsey mumbled a response to his question, but Sophia hardly heard it, too concerned with the change that had come over the gentleman.

  She had done her best to make him feel welcomed, but still his spirits had seemed to decline throughout the meal. His and Father’s.

  She looked to the end of the table where Father sat staring at his drink, his plate of food untouched. He’d hardly said a word all night. Had his business matter with Mr. Hawkins turned sour? Was that why Mr. Hawkins was upset, as well?

  Her brow lowered for only a moment. It would not do her any good to simply dwell on the problems. She would solve them instead. She’d done a fine job being attentive to Mr. Singleton and Mr. Chester, as was evident by her mother’s proud glances, but Mr. Hawkins appeared to be in need of more attention.

  What a shame to have to spend more time with him.

  She smiled to herself, leaning toward the gentleman. “Sir, I—”

  “Miss Kinsey, I trust you are staying well, what with your uncle in poor health.”

  Sophia pulled back, blinking in surprise. Had Mr. Hawkins interrupted her on purpose? What was with his sudden interest in Miss Kinsey?

  Miss Kinsey, of all people.

  After a dessert of peach compote and almond cake, the women made for the drawing room. Sophia attempted to speak with Miss Kinsey, but after half an hour of trying to pry more than one-word responses from the woman, she was relieved to have the gentlemen join them.

  She had intended on seeking out Mr. Hawkins straightaway, but Mr. Singleton sidled up to her in an instant.

  “Typically, I enjoy a glass of port,” he said, dimples deep, “but knowing you were in here while I, in there, was simply too much for me to bear.”

  She looked over his shoulder to where Mr. Hawkins was already in conversation with Miss Kinsey. That was strange. He hadn’t sought out Sophia first. “I missed you, as well, Mr. Singleton,” she said distractedly.

  “Have you deduced our entertainment yet?” Mr. Singleton asked.

  She stifled a sigh. Would it be rude of her to ask him to be silent for a single moment so she might think in peace? “I am certain we shall find out soon enough.”

  She glanced to Mr. Hawkins in time to see his eyes pull away from her. Her lip curled. Now she understood. Mr. Hawkins was not at Sophia’s side because Mr. Singleton was. The poor man was jealous.

  Sophia couldn’t help that other men vied for her attention. But she could help Mr. Hawkins see that she was more interested in him than the others.

  “Do excuse me for a moment, Mr. Singleton,” she said, and she headed across the room without waiting for his response.

  In an instant, she reached Mr. Hawkins and Miss Kinsey. “I must say, I saw the two of you deep in conversation, and I simply had to know of what you were speaking.”

  Miss Kinsey, if it were possible, dropped her head even more. Mr. Hawkins simply stared at Sophia impassively. “I was merely speaking with the lovely Miss Kinsey about my home in Bedfordshire.”

  Sophia stared. The lovely Miss Kinsey? This had to be Mr. Hawkins being polite.

  “I see,” she said. She turned to Miss Kinsey, struggling to deduce what Mr. Hawkins saw in her that was ‘lovely.’ She supposed she had nice green eyes. “I was sorry to hear of your uncle’s health this evening, Miss Kinsey. You must tell him we missed him at our party.”

  Miss Kinsey nodded.

  “Are you enjoying your stay with them?” Sophia pressed.

  “I am, thank you.”

  Sophia had to lean in to hear her words. The girl was insufferable. Was she really so shy, or did she merely dislike everyone around her? Everyone but Mr. Hawkins.

  Sophia turned to face him, struck again with how handsome he was, even with his blank expression. It would appear Miss Kinsey’s lack of conversation was draining him, as well.

  “And you, Mr. Hawkins, are you enjoying your time in Cornwall?”

  “I am.”

  Now his answers were sounding like Miss Kinsey’s. Sophia needed to get this man away from the dull woman. “Did you enjoy the port my father chose? He only uses his finest for special company, which means you must be superior indeed.”

  “Yes, I was grateful for it.” He looked to Miss Kinsey. “If you will excuse me, ladies, I should like to thank him for it right now.”

 
As he walked past her, the scent of leather lingered, no doubt still clinging to his breeches from his ride that morning. Her heart stirred, but she stared after him with dismay. He’d taken the escape she’d provided him, but now Sophia was caught in Miss Kinsey’s dreary web of silence.

  “Did you enjoy dinner, Miss Kinsey?” she asked.

  Miss Kinsey shifted her feet. “It was delicious, thank you.”

  Sophia waited for her to say more.

  She didn’t.

  “The sunshine has been exceptional of late,” Sophia said next. Oh, dear. She was now resorting to talk of the weather. “I do hope the rain will not come for a few days yet.”

  “As do I.”

  Sophia clicked her teeth together. Mother told her it was a bad habit, especially around gentlemen, but Sophia hardly thought it would matter in the presence of Miss Kinsey.

  Anxious for a way out of the conversation—or lack thereof—Sophia looked around her. Mr. Hawkins spoke with Father and the Summerfields, and Mrs. Maddern was with Mother. But Mr. Singleton and Mr. Chester stood together with their eyes already upon her.

  They would make the perfect escape. She waved them over, to which they responded with a fair gallop across the room.

  “Miss Kinsey and I are in need of entertainment,” she said. Miss Kinsey didn’t respond, and Sophia fought the urge to groan. “Shall I have Mother decide on what we are to do this evening?”

  “Certainly. Though, you know what my vote is for,” Mr. Chester said.

  Mr. Singleton took a step forward, partially blocking Miss Kinsey from their circle. The girl hardly seemed to notice. “Yes, and mine, as well.”

  “We shall see, gentlemen,” Sophia said.

  Of course, she already knew Mother would not choose dancing, what with two ladies and three gentlemen to pair up, but Sophia would leave that disappointing news for her mother to deliver.

  Soon enough, when entertainment was called for, and dancing was excluded, the group collectively settled on playing whist.

  Two tables were set up, four chairs spaced around each one. Sophia headed straight for Mr. Hawkins as he took a seat at the empty table. His eyes pulled away from hers once he saw her coming, and he turned to face Miss Kinsey instead.

  “Miss Kinsey, will you be my partner?” he asked. “With your cleverness, we are sure to win.”

  Sophia’s smile faltered. He must have known she was intending to request him to be her partner. What did he mean by asking Miss Kinsey instead?

  The girl looked rather horrified as she sat down across from him. She directed her eyes anywhere but Mr. Hawkins.

  Sophia, however, directed her eyes solely on Mr. Hawkins.

  She hadn’t been his first choice. She could not remember the last time that had happened to her. She was always every gentleman’s first choice.

  “Miss Rosewall, do tell me you will be my partner.”

  She breathed a sigh, half-relieved, half-annoyed. Mr. Singleton. There was one gentleman who would choose her above all others. She looked graciously up at him, but before she could respond, Mr. Chester appeared beside him, seemingly from thin air.

  “No, you must be my partner, Miss Rosewall,” he said.

  The friends looked to one another, a silent battle of wills ensuing before Sophia produced a dry laugh to dispel her own discomfort. A discomfort produced not from their argument, but from coming second to Miss Kinsey. “You are both so silly. There is no need to quarrel.” She glanced to Mr. Hawkins, but he continued shuffling the deck of cards with his head down. “We can settle this easily. Whoever does not play as my partner this evening will receive my first dance at the Maddern’s ball next week.”

  “But I—”

  “Yes, Mr. Chester, I know I have already promised you the first, but if you forgo your chair to Mr. Singleton this evening, I shall then save you two dances instead of just the one.”

  Mr. Chester looked down his nose at Mr. Singleton, as much as he could being a full head shorter. “In that case, Singleton, you may play as Miss Rosewall’s partner this evening.”

  With his chest pushed out, he joined the other table.

  Sophia took her place across from Mr. Singleton, only then noticing her Father standing beside Mr. Summerfield to observe the games. Father’s eyes remained on the fire crackling in the hearth rather than on his guests playing whist.

  The meal hadn’t proved to buoy his spirits, nor had his port, and the weary half-circles carved beneath his eyes had only darkened. Perhaps he’d contracted Mr. Maddern’s cold. She would suggest for Mother to send for Dr. Rennalls that evening.

  “I am pleased Mr. Chester has allowed me to partner with you, Miss Rosewall,” Mr. Singleton said, breaking through her thoughts. “I trust playing whist is one of your many talents?”

  Sophia could not share how truly exceptional she was at the game. Instead, she smiled furtively as she removed her gloves. “That is for you to discover yourself, sir.”

  Mr. Singleton exuded pleasure. He and Mr. Chester were enjoying themselves that evening. Mother would be pleased. Mr. Hawkins, however…

  She glanced toward him, but he was busy extending the shuffled deck to Mr. Singleton. Mr. Singleton then proceeded to deal thirteen cards to each player before revealing the trump suit with a flourish.

  Diamonds. That was unfortunate. Sophia had only six of them, all lower-numbered. She would need to keep track of which cards had been played, just as Father had taught her. Victory would come easily, though, as it always did for her. Providing Mr. Singleton did his part, of course.

  She leaned toward Mr. Hawkins, arranging her cards in numeric order as she did so. “I hope you do not have a talent for whist, sir, as I truly despise losing.”

  His eyes lacked the luster of a smile. “I doubt I possess any talent greater than yours, Miss Rosewall.”

  His words did not sound like the compliment they should have been. Sophia glanced around the table. No one appeared to have noticed the slight but her.

  Mr. Hawkins played first, laying down a two of spades.

  Sophia could not decide if he was attempting to rid himself of pointless cards, or if he was simply rubbish at the game. Either way, she was sure he could use some encouragement.

  “Excellent start, sir,” she said. “And now you have me pondering what strategy you undoubtedly have hidden up your sleeve.”

  Mr. Hawkins pulled in his lips and nodded.

  With no spade to follow suit, Sophia played her lowest diamond. Miss Kinsey laid down another spade, and Sophia smiled at her own victory.

  Then Mr. Singleton took his turn. Instead of laying a sensible card, he put down another diamond.

  “Wait a moment, no…” But it was too late, the card having already been played. She clamped her mouth shut.

  Mr. Singleton looked up at her with a quirked brow, pulling the trick he’d won toward him. “We won that round, Miss Rosewall.”

  “Yes, I know, but…” She shook her head. Never mind that he’d wasted a trump card when they’d already won that round together. It was only a game, after all. “Yes, well done, sir.”

  She thought she heard a snort come from Mr. Hawkins, but when she looked to him, his mouth was hidden behind his cards.

  Mr. Singleton led the next round, but Miss Kinsey took the trick with a two of diamonds.

  “I knew I chose the right partner,” Mr. Hawkins said.

  Sophia frowned, every bit as uncomfortable with his words as the shy Miss Kinsey.

  “Very good play, Miss Kinsey,” she said, attempting to swallow her pride.

  “Do you play whist often?” Mr. Hawkins asked.

  “Yes, as often as I can manage,” Sophia replied as the cards were dealt.

  He stared. “Oh, I was asking Miss Kinsey.”

  “Ah.” Sophia stared down at her new cards, her cheeks feeling as if she’d spent far too long in the sunshine. “My apologies.”

  “My sisters and I used to play often when we were children,” Miss Kinsey f
inally responded.

  Sophia had never heard the woman say so much. Of course Mr. Hawkins would be the one to draw her out of her shell.

  Miss Kinsey won another round, then Sophia the next.

  “Just the beginning of our victory,” Mr. Singleton boasted.

  Sophia glanced to Mr. Hawkins. The muscles in his jaw twitched.

  The game continued, and Mr. Hawkins won his first trick before playing the ace of diamonds, another instant win. Sophia and Miss Kinsey played lower cards, but Mr. Singleton placed his king of diamonds, though there was no chance of his winning.

  Had the man never played before in his life? What was he thinking? She should have partnered with Mr. Chester. Surely he could not be this bad.

  Unable to bear another wasted trump card, she raised a finger. “Oh, you might not wish to—”

  “The card has been played, Miss Rosewall,” Mr. Hawkins interrupted, setting his winning trick at his side of the table.

  Sophia clamped her mouth shut with dismay. Mr. Singleton proceeded to win another round, again taking it from Sophia.

  “Another win for us,” he said.

  Sophia blinked at him. “You do know, Mr. Singleton, in order to win a trick, only one in a partnership needs to play a high diamond?”

  “Of course,” he responded with a casual lift of his brow.

  She bit back a groan, catching Mr. Hawkins’s eye. Why did he appear so entertained? Was it because he was winning, or because she had a ninny for a partner?

  With each passing round, the discourse around the table suffered, as did Sophia’s patience with Mr. Singleton. When the final rounds commenced with no chance of her winning the game, she attempted to brush aside her frustrations by striking up a conversation between her and Mr. Hawkins.

  “Tell me, where did you learn to play so well? Was it the time you spent in London?”

  His eyes remained on the cards he dealt into four piles. “No, I made it a point to never adopt any habit from London that I did not value.”