‘You mean to say… that is… you’re saying that…Lord Rotherbyhas made you an offer?’ Sophie asked incredulously. ‘Self-confessed notorious rake Lord Rotherby, who claims not to possess a heart?’
She swallowed, trying not to look as shocked as she felt. It wasn’t that Aurelia wasn't both attractive and a significant catch. It was just that Lord Rotherby had done nothing but convince her of his permanent bachelordom from the moment they met.
Aurelia surveyed her as though she’d just crawled out from Edward’s sleeve.
‘La, much I care for that!’ she scorned. ‘I’m a creature of the real world, and know it is far better to marry with your head than your heart. And no, not an offeryet– a girl can only work so fast after all– but he has been paying me considerable attention and I do have a plan!’ She smiled smugly, before lowering her voice. ‘Lord Rotherby frequently travels to France on account of some extended family living there. I believe they’re based in Paris, though there’s also a maiden aunt who conducts her life in the oddest fashion, travelling across Europe in the pursuit of artistic endeavours rather than living at Grosvenor Place?—’
‘I like her already!’ Sophie murmured.
‘Anyway,’ Aurelia continued, glaring, ‘the last time we conversed, he saidI’d adore Pariswhich was so clearly an invitation that I’ve made up my mind: I’m going to accompany him on his next trip! It is simple yet brilliant, is it not? Imagine waking up to the scent of freshly baked croissants and le chocolat,safe in the knowledge you’re shortly to become Lady Rotherby? Not even my parents will be able to object, and I’ll have spared myself a husband in his dotage too. I have to say that this time, I have surpassed even my own expectations!’
Sophie gazed at Aurelia in horror-struck silence, certain all the colour had drained from her face. Aurelia was the most conceited and self-centred debutante of her acquaintance, but even she didn't deserve utter ruin. How she’d convinced herself Lord Rotherby, of all gentlemen, could be relied upon to behave with any kind of honour was beyond all belief.
‘But Aurelia!’ she whispered hoarsely, ‘European shores are not Gretna Green. And what makes you think Lord Rotherby will behave honourably when pressed in this manner? Suggesting you will adore Paris, is not the same as asking you to run away with and marry him! He’s a rake and a confirmed bachelor, and much more likely to abandon you in France, without any hope of a match or return to polite society at all,’ she finished in a rush. ‘Truly, this is a madness, Aurelia, and you will end up ruined and alone.’
Sophie paused to inhale deeply, perplexed by her own reaction. Aurelia’s plan sounded beyond foolish, but it didn’t explain the rise of agitation she felt at the thought of Lord Rotherby disappearing onto the continent with her either.
‘La! What a worryhead you are!’ Aurelia retorted with a dismissive shake of her head. ‘Lord Rotherby may well be a rake, but he is also a nobleman, from an old family like mine. We understand one another! I also have an old, beloved friend in Paris who has much influence with him, and if necessary my mother will make such a fuss that he’ll have to wed me. Anyway, I’m sure he’s already contemplating it, for even a notorious rake is still a man when all is said and done. You’re just envious because a darling of the ton wants to show me Paris, while you have yet to secure any interest from anyone!’
She smiled superciliously while Sophie gritted her teeth, wondering why she didn’t just consider herself well rid of two of the most obnoxious characters of her acquaintance.
Instead, she adopted a tone Phoebe would have recognised from a Fairfax production of Macbeth three summers before.
‘It’s your decision, Aurelia,’ she replied coldly, ‘though in truth, the season has hardly begun. Most debutantes are just getting to know the eligible bachelors and certainly wouldn’t be tempted to take such a chance. Indeed, if Phoebe’s happiness is anything to set standards by, it is quite possible to hope for a match of the heart, as well as the head.’
‘Oh, another love match enthusiast,’ Aurelia crowed. ‘How exceedingly quaint! Do you plan to steal another’s betrothed from under their nose, too?’
Sophie inhaled sharply, as a pale girl in a modest dress and shawl peered around a column a few paces away.
‘I said wait outside the library!’ Aurelia hissed, making the poor abigail shrink and flee in terror.
‘For the last time,’ Sophie replied, white-lipped, ‘Viscount Damerel broke off your engagement long before he married my sister, as well you know. And now, if you don’t mind, the hour is advancing!’
Sophie walked up to the next exhibit, her thoughts whirling. The truth was, no matter how much she believed Aurelia was making the gravest of mistakes, or that Lord Rotherby was highly unlikely to be forced into anything by the threat of dishonour, neither were the type to listen or be told anything. Which left Sophie washing her hands of the pair of them, no matter how oddly her stomach churned at the thought.
She inhaled deeply as she gazed up at a Prussian-blue ribboned corset, wishing for the umpteenth time that she’d been able to bring her own sketchpad.
‘Part of your love match plan?’ Aurelia nodded at the corset.
Sophie inhaled deeply, wondering if old Phoebe would have landed Aurelia a leveller by now.
‘Actually, I’ve always believed fashion should be a blend of art and functionality,’ she replied when she could trust her voice, ‘and that there should be room for both. For example, this designer has explored very contemporary lines, with an acknowledgement of the feminine shape which puts our own corsetry to shame. Indeed, most make me wonder if they were designed with females in mind at all.’
‘A fascinating insight!’ a low and familiar tone interrupted them. ‘Even if I am a little surprised to find a young lady expressing it so freely.’
She caught her breath, as all the tiny hairs on the back of her neck began to strain.
‘Better a young lady with an opinion, than another one without one,’ a female voice chimed in. ‘In my view, the real pity is that such items are hidden beneath the layers of clothing deemed necessary by polite society!’
Then the newcomer tailed off into a throaty laugh that didn’t sound polite to Sophie at all.
Sophie closed her eyes in disbelief. It seemed the height of misfortune to run into any of her acquaintance– she’d deliberately selected an early and unfashionable hour, and they’d barely been there above thirty minutes. Yet, when she turned, there was no denying the tall, languid nobleman or the hawk-eyed lady beside him at all. A warm flush crept into Sophie’s cheeks as she forced herself to meet his curious gaze. She didn’t know his companion, but could read everything into the way she hung off his arm.
‘Aren’t you going to introduce us, Dominic?’ the lady asked coquettishly, tapping his arm with a closed fan. ‘We ladies like to know one another.’
‘Of course,’ Lord Rotherby replied smoothly, though it seemed to Sophie that he was reluctant.
‘Miss Fairfax, may I present Mrs Haxby. Mrs Haxby, this is Miss Fairfax of… the fearlessFairfaxes.’
