“I’m afraid you may not sufficiently understand my situation.” He leaned forward, calloused hands on his knees. “I need a mature woman who understands how to negotiate the rocky political shoals of thetonand the Admiralty.”
“Ah, but Arnaud, she’s so beautiful, and so, so…what you need. And then there’s Lady Howick’s nephew,” She wrinkled her nose as if the thought of the man were repugnant. “I'm sure he has designs on Sophie's dowry, and I don’t like the greedy look in his eyes whenever he settles his gaze on her. You have to save that poor young woman.”
Arnaud threw up his hands and leaned back against the squabs just as the carriage jostled to a stop behind two other conveyances near Howick House. He shook his head and breathed a silent prayer for strength to get through the evening without his mother proposing on his behalf.
Standing in the Howicks’ opulent drawing room, Sophie trembled and blamed the cool fall evening. When she excused herself to return to her room to fetch a shawl, Lady Howick tutted and asked one of the footmen to retrieve the warm covering.
“You must stay here, Sophie, and help greet our guests. You don’t want to miss greeting Captain Bellingham, do you?”
Sophie’s face heated with embarrassment and she shook her head. “Of course not.”
As if summoned by the mention of his name, he and his mother were announced. Dr. MacCloud and his father followed close behind.
Lady Howick made her way toward the elderly physician and linked her arm with his. “You must share the latest court gossip,” she said, and guided him toward a settee near the fireplace. She turned her attention toward Arnaud and Honore and beckoned to Sophie and Lydia to join them.
Sophie hung back a moment to retrieve her shawl from the young footman who had fetched it from her room two floors above. She pulled the rich, woolen paisley tight about her shoulders and smiled at the memory of the day her father had surprised her with the extravagant gift.
She’d been on her hands and knees scrubbing floors in their little stone cottage. He’d pulled her to her feet and scolded her for ruining her hands with housework before swirling the precious shawl around her and dancing her around their tiny drawing room. The gift had been an extravagance they could ill afford. And, of course, she’d had to manipulate the household budget for the month to accommodate the expensive purchase.
“Sophie—” Lady Howick’s commanding voice floated across the large, opulent drawing room, bringing her back to the present and emphasizing her predicament. “Please come speak to our guests. After all, they are here to inquire after your well-being.”
She moved quickly across the room, her slippers sliding without a sound across the lush floral landscape of a light blue Aubusson carpet. She nodded to Mrs. Bellingham and then turned, waiting for Lady Howick’s lead with introductions.
“Sophie, please meet my guests, the elder and younger Doctors MacCloud and Captain Arnaud Bellingham. And, of course, you remember the captain’s mother from her visit yesterday.”
"So good to see you again, Mrs. Bellingham, and I am very pleased to make your acquaintances," she added, nodding toward Arnaud ands the MacClouds.
“Come sit by me, Sophie.” Lady Howick patted the settee cushion next to her.
The elder Dr. MacCloud inclined his head and inquired, “Do you have any lingering effects from the fright you suffered?”
Sophie flashed him a bright smile and said, “It was really nothing since your son and Captain Bellingham intervened so quickly. I barely had time to realize I was in danger.”
“Did the kidnappers put their hands on you or hurt you?” The dratted physician would not stop questioning her.
“I honestly do not remember. There was so much happening, and I was so frightened…” Sophie’s voice trailed off.
At that moment, the butler saved her from further interrogation by announcing dinner was served.
Lady Howick assigned Sophie to walk in with the young Dr. MacCloud while Captain Bellingham accompanied Lydia. They faced each other across the long dining table. Sophie smiled at the captain across the divide.
Although Sophie was no stranger to long, formal dinners at Howick House, this one had her on edge. Once the white soup course was served, most conversation paused while the guests tucked into Cook’s elegant version.
She was seated across the table from Captain Bellingham, with Lydia at her side. Teddy, unfortunately, was the lone bachelor out and somehow had contrived to be seated on her other side. When he leaned close to her ear, ostensibly to share an on dit, instead he asked, “Do you think the duke might relent and sponsor your coming out after all?” She snapped her head toward Teddy and his outrageous question and then returned to staring straight ahead, knowing she had to control her reaction. She knew his game. He sought to bait her so that she’d break down in front of Lady Howick’s guests. The taste of bile rose in her throat, destroying the finish of the luscious soup.
Just as Sophie was wondering how to avoid the blush spreading down her neck toward the daring neckline of the dress she’d borrowed from Lydia, Captain Bellingham intervened. Teddy had leaned toward her again and seemed about to spew forth more nastiness.
“I say, Mr. Seaton. Can you recommend a decent tailor?”
Teddy’s head whipped around at the unexpected interruption. “What an interesting question, Captain Bellingham. I haven’t considered ordering a new coat in a while.”
Lydia appeared to be turning purple from trying to stifle a laugh. Sophie feared to breathe, feeling trapped between the two men. She had no idea where the strange conversation would progress from there, but there was a definite feeling of animosity crackling between them.
“My surgeon and I went to our former tailor this week to order new shirts and discovered he’s no longer in business.” Captain Bellingham refused to break the steady stare with which he gripped Teddy’s attention.
Teddy seemed at a loss for words when Lord Howick interrupted from his end of the table opposite the dowager marchioness. “My tailor on Savile Street is the man you need to see. He’ll meet you at your accommodations at Albany. My valet, Sergeant Randall, will arrange everything and send you a message.”
Sophie clenched her teeth and gripped the edges of her chair, wishing she could sink to the floor and disappear. She longed to thank the captain for interrupting Lydia’s annoying cousin, but feared any further mention would agitate the tensions between the two men.
