Fortunately, at the same moment she heard the low yet unmistakable tone of a cheerful whistle. She exhaled in relief, certain that of all the gentlemen taking part, only sensible Sir Weston would be composed enough to whistle.
‘Do I have the pleasure of addressing the ghost of the maze?’ she called brightly, ‘and do you come to offer assistance or merely to terrorise those who pass through it?’
‘A tricky choice,’ came a muffled response, ‘though in truth, my terrorising skills are a little rusty, so I trust you will be content with the former?’
Sophie chuckled. ‘I promise you, sir, if you can guide me out of this beehive, I shall most likely be content forever,’ she replied.
‘High stakes indeed, for no female I’ve known has ever reached such an exalted state,’ he countered.
Briefly, Sophie wondered if Sir Weston was prone to philosophical turns of mood, yet she was certain he would know the quickest way out of the dratted maze, and even Aunt Higglestone couldn’t object to his anodyne company.
‘Then perhaps you are keeping the wrong company, sir,’ she replied, her lips twitching, ‘Now, how shall I find you?’
‘I believe there is a fork at the end of your corridor,’ came the muffled response. ‘Take the left, follow it round, and with a little luck we should find ourselves in the same corridor. Then I may be certain to guide– or terrorise– you in a much more civilised manner.’
Relieved, Sophie picked up the skirts of her new pink muslin and ran in what Harriet would have undoubtedly called a hoydenish manner towards the end of the corridor. She was out of all patience with Aurelia’s game, and very much looking forward to putting an end to it before anyone could say ‘Prinnie wed Mrs Fitzherbert in secret’.
In fact, it was just as she was pondering whether her aunt’s favourite piece of court gossip was suitable to share with a gentleman of Sir Weston’s very proper character, that she rounded the corner and ran straight into him.
‘Oh, I do beg your pardon!’ she exclaimed during their momentary tangle, which somehow managed to attach the delicate lace of her frilled bodice to the gilt button of his expensive waistcoat.
‘Oh, I am sorry, this French lace is all very well, but itiswearisome when?—’
Yet the remainder of her sentence evaporated as she stared up into an entirely unexpected face, with cheekbones that had clearly been borrowed from a Michelangelo.
‘I defer to your superior knowledge in these matters, Miss Fairfax,’ came his amused response. ‘I’m just grateful to have progressed from target practice to dress adornment!’
‘Oh!’ Sophie flushed instantly, taking a swift pace back. ‘I beg your pardon, Lord Rotherby. I thought you’d left. I mean, I had no idea you were…’
Sophie tailed off uncomfortably, suddenly and acutely aware of the picture she must present: hot, bothered and making no sense whatsoever, in addition to which, her ringlets were behaving as though she hadn’t attempted to recreate this month’s cover style ofLa Belle Assembléeat all.
‘Ah yes, well that’s perfectly understandable,’ he replied, unruffled. ‘However, since my business with Lord Hampton had concluded, and the afternoon was advancing, I offered my assistance with locating your party. I have navigated this maze once or twice before, you see.’ He smiled in a way that left Sophie in no doubt that once or twice was the most conservative of estimates.
‘Well, that is reassuring,’ she swallowed, to cover her jangle of nerves, ‘for I fear these corridors are all quite identical.’
‘Nearly,’ he replied enigmatically, his eyes gleaming. ‘But there is a secret to navigating a maze, as there is with all things, and that is to look up, rather than ahead.’
She nodded, trying to connect this gentleman with the one who’d left so abruptly earlier. She couldn’t, and her agitation redoubled. He was the most changeable of gentlemen, and for some reason his proximity seemed to rob her of the ability to think clearly.
‘That is most helpful,’ she managed, knowing her cheeks were likely the colour of squashed strawberries. ‘And I do believe we might be closer to the exit than the centre, so if you would be so kind as to show me the quickest exit?’
‘I would be only too happy to oblige, of course, Miss Fairfax,’ he replied, ‘except my charge is to locateallof your group. He paused as a quizzical light crept into his dark eyes. ‘Besides which, you have previously led me to believe that a fearless Fairfax will ride bareback through a storm before conceding defeat to anything?’
Sophie bristled. It was true that her family were renowned for their stubborn determination, but she was also aware that spending time alone in Lord Rotherby’s company was less than ideal too.
She scowled, spinning one way and then the other, before gazing up at the ancient Hampton oaks in the distance. Begrudgingly, she realised Lord Rotherby’s strategy was actually a rather wise one.
‘If your intention is to distract competitors by placing them in a spin, I can confirm it is highly effective,’ he quipped with a grin.
‘Youare not my competitor. Andyoudo not seem to be in any kind of spin,’ she retorted, gathering up her skirts and starting in the direction from which he’d come.
‘You are vexed with me, Miss Fairfax,’ he called, catching up to her in a few easy strides. ‘Please accept my apologies. I do not often keep company with debutantes, and my tongue can be a little unguarded. I’m certain we will discover the rest of your party very soon.’
She glanced up to find his dark eyes shaded with sincerity, and his expression altogether gentler. Her confusion and nerves eased a little, perhaps she’d let Phoebe’s excessive warnings addle her brain.
‘Not vexed, no, it’s just I do not wish to lose,’ she replied hesitantly. ‘You see, the loser must pay the winner’s forfeit, and if Aurelia has got there first…’ She paused, fearing she had already said more than she should.
‘I understand.’ He nodded and they set off again. ‘A forfeit, like any wager, should never be knowingly underestimated.’
