Page 20 of The Chaperone
‘In all other situations I hope it remains as it is now.’
The blush deepened.
‘My lord, I am unused to compliments. You should retain them for such as appreciate them.’
‘You think me insincere. I can see I will have much to do to persuade you otherwise.’
‘I beg you will not put yourself to the trouble, my lord.’
The comment came out sharply, for the thought that he might seek her company the more would fly in the face of her mother’s instructions. He looked hurt.
‘That has given me mycongé, has it not. My apologies, ma’am.’
They parted, moved through other couples and came together once more for the end of the dance. She looked not so much angered, he thought, as beleaguered. He did not understand. When he led her to where Susan stood, eager to thrust the champagne glass back into her cousin’s hand, her thanks were mechanical. Dancing with the vivacious Miss Tyneham, whose every signal was perfectly clear, was a lot easier, if less fulfilling, and he had to admit the girl could be very winning when she tried.
‘Sophronia! Did you not attend to my words?’ hissed Lady Chelmarsh, coming up and laying a hand on her daughter’s arm. ‘Not only did I just catch you dancing with That Man, but now you pass him on to your cousin, when I specifically asked you to avoid him.’
‘I danced with him, Mama, in an attempt to keep him from dancing with Susan, but short of creating a very embarrassing scene there was nothing more I could do.’ She sounded terse. Her head was beginning to ache and the evening one of gold turning to dross. ‘I am sorry, Mama, if I appear disobedient. My head is starting to throb. Might I have your leave to call our carriage and go home? There is no need for you to drag Harriet or Susan away from the entertainment.’
Lady Chelmarsh, who had been drawing up further angry comments, relented. Sophronia rarely complained of a headache.
‘Oh, my dear, try lavender water upon your pillow. Is it very bad? I would come, but Harriet has secured the next three dances to my certain knowledge, and Lady Boscombe has promised me the juiciest ofon ditsabout Cornelia Sempringham. By all means retire. Just send the carriage back again to await us.’
Thus it was that when Lord Rothley brought a flushed and proud Miss Tyneham off the floor, it was to find her aunt where her cousin had been, and to the intelligence that Lady Sophronia Hadlow had gone home, unwell. He expressed the very genuine wish that her indisposition might be transitory, and withdrew, with the worrying thought that he had been instrumental in her sudden decline.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sophy’s headache meant that sleep eluded herfor some time. The combination of the throbbing at her temples and the disquieting thoughts within her mind did not facilitate rest in any way. She lay in the darkness, prey to guilt, confusion, and a weird, elated feeling which concerned her more than the rest.
She had not been entirely honest with her mama. She had danced with Lord Rothley to prevent him doing so with Susan, and failed, but before that … Politeness meant that she would have had to exchange civilities with him when he spoke to her, but it had seemed so very natural to respond as she had, to flirt with him. She did not consider herself flirtatious, so it must have been him encouraging her to be so. He had that lupine smile and the appreciative look in his grey eyes. She chastised herself, for she had noted the colour of his eyes, imprinted them upon her mind’s eye. She was being a fool. Mama would not want her charges to keep at arm’s length from the heir to an earldom for no good reason. She had not heard that he was living under a mountain of debt, and so the only logical cause must be that he was the sort of man who made a woman the object of his gallantry to the point where she was besotted, took advantage, and then turned his back upon her. He had the attributes of such a man; the wolfish smile, the ability to make one feel the centre of his attention, and girlishly excited.
So she was not just duplicitous, she was a fool, for she was beginning to slide down the slope towards her heart beating the faster just because she knew him to be in the same room, wanting his eyes to meet hers, wanting him to engage in the light-hearted but quick-witted badinage that had thrilled her at the party. He did not act as if everything had to be explained, but accepted that she could keep pace with him. An image of her cousin Tyneham intruded. There was a man who would treat every woman as though a child. She banished him. Mama might say he could be her last chance of marriage, but spinsterhood was preferable to facing such a man at breakfast, or … She shuddered. Mama also had hopes of Sir Esmond, upon the very flimsiest of evidence. He did not treat her as a child, and she liked him, thus far. He was companionable, friendly, and showed signs of having surprisingly acute understanding. Looking at it calmly, which was not altogether easy at two o’clock in the morning and with a sick headache, an offer from Sir Esmond would not be unwelcome, except for the fact that it was not his image that appeared in her dreams.
Undoubtedly she was the idiot, then, to even consider that she would reject companionship, friendship, comfort, and the potential for love for the sake of, and her brain echoed her mother’s tone, ‘That Man’.
When sleep eventually claimed her it was not restful, but it did mean that Sophy, normally enjoying the day by half past nine, slept until eleven, and came downstairs looking, in her mama’s depressing but accurate words, ‘a trifle hag-ridden’.
‘I do hope you are not going down with something contagious, Sophronia, just when the Season is about to start properly. Of course, Harriet had the mumps and measles when young, and the chickenpox, blessedly, never left but the one mark upon her, and that where no public gaze may see it. What a pity you had to leave early last night. Harriet created quite an impression upon Emily Cowper, not but that I was relying upon Sally Fane, Lady Jersey rather, to procure us admission to Almack’s. Fortunately, Susan was on her best behaviour at that point and not in view either. Bollington was introducing her to his mother, which is a terribly good sign, as long as Lady Wetherden does not watch her too closely hereafter.’
Sophy noted that any concern for her eldest daughter’s health had now been superseded in her mama’s mind by the ‘business’ of the Season, getting Harriet and Susan suitably attached. Since neither Harriet nor Susan were likely to surface before noon, Lady Chelmarsh felt that she could speak quite freely about ‘progress’ thus far, without either damsel interrupting.
‘For it would do neither any good to mention things to them at this stage. Of course, it is different with you, Sophronia. I need not fear that what I might say would go to your head. You are a sensible girl, and fully aware of the situation in which you find yourself.’
Ah, thought Sophy, if her mama did but know the situation. How could one possibly explain even the most tentative attraction to the very man in all London against whom one had been warned?
The afternoon brought a call from one of Lady Chelmarsh’s old friends, which Susan described, not inaccurately, as the sort guaranteed to bring on a fit of the dismals, since all she did was enumerate their mutual acquaintances who were wasting away from diseases unspecified, or had already cast the rest of their family into blacks. As if that were not enough, they then received a visit from Lord Tyneham. Susan stiffened immediately.
‘I hear Bollington introduced Susan to his mother last night. That is very good, very good indeed.’ He rubbed his hands together.
‘We did not see you there, Tyneham.’ Lady Chelmarsh regarded the hand rubbing with disfavour.
‘Oh no, a friend of mine mentioned it when we bumped into each other today. I thought you would like to know I have made it known, discreetly, of course, that she comes with good Settlements. Not that Bollington is short of the readies, but it is helpful.’
Susan was almost grinding her teeth, and Sophy could understand why. Being referred to as ‘she’ as if an animal for sale would annoy the most even-tempered of young ladies. Lady Chelmarsh looked even more displeased.
‘You have done what, Tyneham?’
He looked suddenly less assured.
