‘I still don’t understand why Sir Weston was at the exhibition,’ Josephine blurted suddenly. ‘I would have thought him the last gentleman to be interested in an exhibition of modern ladies’ fashion. He usually seems… above such things.’
‘Dearest, Sir Weston was only there as an escort to Mrs Hendercott and her Bridge Club,’ Sophie replied, surprised Josephine should fix upon such a point. ‘Apparently, he offered to escort them in case there were any exuberant gentlemen present. Though how Sir Weston could offer any more protection than Mrs Hendercott herself, is beyond me!’
Josephine began to chuckle as Sophie glanced across the park at a smart black curricle being driven along theKing’s Routeat a vigorous pace.
‘She is rather formidable,’ Josephine replied, ‘like all our governesses and the Marchioness Carlisle rolled into one, only with slightly less peacock!’
At this, they both dissolved into snorts of laughter.
‘If anything, I suspect Sir Weston needed protection from Mrs Hendercott!’ Josephine added when she could draw breath. ‘Though I did think it was gentlemanly of him to escort you home. Did he not ask why you were there?’
‘He didn’t,’ Sophie said. ‘He’s far too well-mannered for that. Though I did mention having some ideas for my sketch book, so hopefully he realised it was for the sake of fashion… Not that it matters now. The main thing is that we all know just how much of a scoundrel Lord Rotherby can be. Do you know, apart from treating me like an ignorant schoolgirl, he actually had the effrontery to scowl at Sir Weston too– and all with his lady-friend on his arm!’
‘A scoundrel indeed,’ Josephine replied, eyeing her sister carefully. ‘He really is one of Matilda’s pigwidgeoned dunderheads!’
‘I warrant there are few more cheering sights than an ambush of fearless Fairfaxes choosing their own company over the rest of the ton,’ a low voice called with perfect timing. ‘Good evening, Miss Fairfax– and Miss Fairfax the younger too, I hazard?’
Sophie started at the familiar tone, before reluctantly turning towards the gleaming sports curricle that had pulled up alongside their own. Instantly she could see it was a fashionable equipage finished, it appeared, with far more care than the driver himself today. She glanced at Lord Rotherby’s ruffled hair and swiftly tied cravat, which gave him a dashing, almost heroic appearance in the late afternoon light, and suppressed a frown, for he was neither, she reminded herself. Indeed, he was still the same unpredictable, notorious rake she’d sworn to avoid for the rest of the season.
‘Good evening, sir,’ Sophie replied, deliberately ignoring his reference to Josephine. ‘I trust you are enjoying a pleasurable excursion?’
She waited, as he seemed to consider her question. Unusually, there was a decidedly unsettled air about him, and he appeared entirely devoid of company, save for a scowling tiger seated at the back of his curricle. For a few moments, Sophie wondered if Mrs Haxby had given him his marching orders and felt a peculiar satisfaction at the thought.
‘I am enjoying the air,’ he replied, ‘but in truth, Hyde Park is a little crowded today.’ He paused and smiled in a way that didn’t quite reach his shadowed eyes. ‘Though it is encouraging to see young ladies enjoying all of the distractions London has to offer,’ he continued. Indeed, I would be tempted to wager there will be a new darling of the ton very soon, but as I am already in danger of losing my first, I’ll offer it as a sincere belief instead. Miss Fairfax, I wish you every success of the season! And Miss Fairfax the Younger, you would do well to study your sister, for I am certain that her unique passion and charms will ensure she takes the ton by storm.’
Then he doffed his hat and drove on.
‘Well, what on earth was all that about?’ Josephine quizzed, wide-eyed.
‘I’m sure I haven’t the faintest idea!’ Sophie replied.
ChapterNine
TEACHING A RAKE A LESSON
Two days later
‘An ambush of fearless Fairfaxes,’Sophie muttered to herself, re-buttoning her stays and wishing she hadn’t had a second helping of baked custard at dinner. ‘Well, he was right about the latter part anyway.’
She glanced down at the hastily scrawled letter from Aurelia, and cursed in a way that would make even Phoebe look twice.
My dear Miss Fairfax,
I have heard through a reliable friend that there is movement afoot in a certain noble household, thus providing an opportunity for my plan. I will leave a letter for my parents and ask only that you maintain my confidence until tomorrow evening, when I will send word directly from Paris.
Do think of me at midnight tonight, headed for foreign shores, and the next time we meet you can address me as Lady R!
Until then, mon amie,
Lady Aurelia Carlisle
‘Pah! Headed for Rotherby’s shores, more like,’ Sophie muttered caustically, wriggling into the only muslin she could fasten with a hook.
It was well past ten, her aunt’s bourgeois lodgings were quiet, and she’d been deliberating her course of action since receiving the letter at breakfast.
That Lady Aurelia was delusional Sophie was now sure, and that Lord Rotherby was entirely capable of crushing her expectations was also beyond certain. The only question remaining was whether she should thrust her head in the sand, or admit she had the smallest window of opportunity to try and stop Aurelia from making the biggest mistake of her life.
She closed her eyes in frustration. The last thing she wanted was to take any more risks. Her chance meeting with Mrs Hendercott at The British Institution had already resulted in more restless nights than she cared to admit, but there was a chance she’d never forgive herself if she stood by while Aurelia ruined her life– especially for a cad like Rotherby. And so, despite every good reason to climb into bed and ignore the world, she’d begun dressing the moment the housemaid retired.
