It appeared that on the question of fun, Madame Marie-Louisa Dupres would brook no dissent, and by the time the evening at the Royal Tuileries Palace arrived, and Sophie was bathed, corseted and dressed afresh in one of Lu Lu’s most fetching blush-pink satin gowns, she’d begun to think it might be just the tonic for lifting her spirits.
‘For I am still Miss Sophie Fairfax when all’s said and done,’ she reminded herself, as she pulled a ringlet free from her elaboratePsyche knot, and turned to inspect the effect.
For a moment she wondered what her sisters would think if they could see her now. She’d always been the one considered least likely to take any risks. Yet it seemed the universe had rather different ideas.
Sophie pulled a face in the looking-glass, resolving that she would not feel sorry for herself, come what may.
‘For this is a situation of your own making, after all,’ she admonished.
Briefly, she recalled her last conversation with Matilda, so certain she would be able to return before dawn. How could she have been so naive? Lord Rotherby had a reputation for being one of the worst rakes in all Georgian London. Why she had taken it upon herself to try and intercept Aurelia with so little consideration for her own reputation seemed a foolishness of gargantuan proportions. And now that same rake, with more secrets than anyone she’d ever known, demanded blind trust.
She closed her eyes and conjured his scowling noble face, eyelids sunk low and lips curling.
‘Above all things, I consider myself honourable, I do not lead or make false promises to ladies, any more than I accuse a gentleman unjustly… I exist in a space where no one gets hurt… You must accept my word that this is truth.’
Sophie exhaled. He’d left London society abruptly, had ignored her entreaties to let her take her chances, and treated Sir Weston abominably– so why did she feel so confused?
‘Ah, ma chérie, you know l’amour can spring from the most curious and unexpected of places.’
Lu Lu’s voice reached through her thoughts as she gazed into her own anxious eyes. It was true that he was likeable, in a careless, roguish kind of way, and also that he frustrated her beyond all things reasonable. But could there be anything else? Could she have hidden a partiality for Lord Dominic Rotherby, even from herself?
She caught her breath. The notion was almost ridiculous, and yet,hadn’t she indulged him from the start?
Carefully, she recalled their meeting at Almack’s, her rash wager, her behaviour in the maze and her reaction at the exhibition when Aurelia shared her plan. Then there was the moment he kissed her outside Rotherby House in the moonlight. She flushed to think of it, even now, but the warmth of his lips had somehow reached right through her, creating a feeling of such intense longing it had haunted her dreams ever since.
And finally, there was her decision to stay and nurse him when she should have abandoned him to his fate. She had told herself she was doing the right thing, the noble thing even, but was that the real reason? Or had there been something else at play?
Sophie swallowed, her heart beating a note of betrayal.
‘I do believe you’ve liked him more than you’ve admitted, right from the start,’ she accused her pale countenance. ‘Which is all the more reason he must never find out,’ she added, watching her lower lip wobble. For a heartless rake, who never intended to marry, could never return the same regard.’
And now there was Sir Weston.
‘This is not the first time I’ve known Lord Dominic Rotherby to act dishonourably. Do you trust me, Miss Fairfax?’
Sophie inhaled deeply. Why every gentleman of her small acquaintance seemed intent on asking her the same felt a little pointed, to say the least. She finished her toilette, and drew on the fur-trimmed pelisse and soft kid gloves Lu Lu had loaned her to finish her outfit. Their quality was far in excess of anything she possessed at home and she paused briefly to admire their velvet lining before collecting her thoughts.
In truth, it wasn’t so much that shetrustedSir Weston, as that she’ddeceivedherself about Lord Rotherby, and despite Lu Lu’s optimism, she had zero expectation of making a love match during her short stay. This left her with one real option, and it was with this thought uppermost in her mind that Sophie left for the Palais des Tuileries, determined to fulfil her plan, no matter what Lu Lu might think of it.
‘Look,ma chérie, c’est magnifique, is it not?’ Lu Lu whispered as her carriage drew up at the Royal and Imperial Palace on the right bank of the River Seine.
‘And I do believe King Louis XVIII is in residence at the moment– though everyone says he has much to do since Napoleon’syou know what,’ she added in a hushed tone.
Sophie nodded, recalling Matilda’s painstaking reenactment of the defeat and exile oflittle Boneyover the library atlas, using the bulging-eyed Duke Wellington as the advancing British army.
‘It’s very beautiful,’ Sophie replied thoughtfully, gazing out of the window.
It was no lie. Despite the revolution and subsequent ‘Terror’, the palace and its gardens were amongst the finest she’d ever seen. Not only did the imposing building appear to stretch on endlessly into the night, the formal Italian gardens, illuminated by a hundred flickering lanterns, were a truly mesmerising sight.
‘Oui, springtime atLes Tuileriesis very special,’ Lu Lu said, sighing happily. ‘It is, how you English say…merveilleux,oui? Perfect for a little dalliance perhaps?’
She raised her eyebrows mischievously as Sophie suppressed a smile, wondering exactly how she could expect to have a dalliance when most of her old life hung by a thread.
‘Are you sure no one I know will be there?’ she asked again, a little anxiously.
‘Ah, machérie,’ Lu Lu replied with a wry smile, ‘cerclesat Le Palais des Tuileries are purely for the Parisian haute tonto outshine one another. And this fortunate fact means you and I will be of absolutely no interest at all.’
* * *
