“Really, Soph…” Dudley clucked his tongue. “…your friend ought to show some consideration. Shouldn’t surprise me, though, I’d always thought Miss Mossant an irreverent sort.”
Rhoda had failed to arrive at the exact designated time. What ought to have been a normal family gathering had become somewhat uncomfortable.
“She did not receive her invitation until late.” Sophia lifted her chin. “She is filling in for your sister, Mr. Scofield, as a favor. She will be here any minute, I am certain.”
Her stepfather pinched his lips and pulled back the curtain. Dudley threw a satisfied smirk her way. He’d still not said a word about seeing her at the circus. Had he known who Captain Brookes was? Most likely.
Dudley was a friend to Lord Kensington and was adamant that the duel had been unsporting. He would know who Captain Brookes was, most certainly, even if he’d not personally met the man.
“There she is now.” Sophia’s mother stood, reaching for her reticule.
“Hurry along.” Mr. Scofield held the door. “I do hope the duke isn’t insulted by our tardiness.”
“Walter, my dear,” her mother soothed. “Isn’t a lady allowed to be late? I’m sure Lord Harold will be all the more pleased when Sophia arrives.”
Mr. Scofield, somewhat mollified, glanced at Dudley who was chuckling to himself. “Of course, my dear, of course.”
As Rhoda rushed in, they gathered hats and wraps and what-nots and were quickly ushered outside to a carriage with the Duke of Prescott’s insignia on the door. It had arrived nearly half an hour ago. Her father and Dudley sat in the front-facing seat and the ladies slid onto the opposite bench.
Mr. Scofield inspected and touched the plush upholstery in approval. “Beautiful, beautiful. The duke has excellent taste.” It was the most satisfied he’d sounded since Sophia joined them in the drawing room.
“He does at that,” Rhoda quipped, never one to be intimidated by arrogance or self-importance.
The rest of the short journey passed in silence. Sophia knew Rhoda wanted to ask about the afternoon spent in Brookes’ company, just as Sophia was anxious to discuss all that she’d discovered today. Rhoda would most definitely have opinions on all of it.
And Sophia valued most of them.
But, of course, the girls could discuss none of it in her family’s presence!
So, they settled for cryptic glances, and half smiles, until the coach came to a halt at the front of the theatre.
Her fiancé and his brother awaited them outside, both somber and unsmiling.
Sophia, drawing upon manners instilled in her since birth, presented Rhoda to the Marques St. John while Lord Harold stood by, impatience on his face. “My lord, may I present to you my dear friend, Miss Rhododendron Mossant. Rhoda, the Marques St. John, Lord Harold’s older brother.”
Looking slightly less bored than he had a moment before, St. John stepped forward and bent over Rhoda’s hand. His gaze, Sophia noticed with some concern, lingered perhaps longer than it ought to upon Rhoda’s décolletage.
But the play was due to begin any moment.
Without further delay, Lord Harold led them into the theatre.
“I’d hoped to speak with you before the play, Miss Beauchamp. In the future, please, I’d appreciate it if you can avoid such tardiness.” His voice was tight and disapproving. Casting him a questioning glance, Sophia was surprised when he refused to meet her eyes.
She took his arm tentatively as he ushered them through the emptying corridor.
“I’m sorry, my lord,” Sophia breathed. Oh, why could he not be in a better mood this evening? She’d so hoped to find reassurance in his company, tonight of all nights.
Mr. Scofield escorted her mother while the marques offered his arm to Rhoda. Dudley followed alone. Sounds of the crowd could be heard as Lord Harold rushed them along.
Just as they stepped into the duke’s box, the lights began to dim.
Not before, however, Sophia took in the curious and disapproving faces awaiting them.
Except for one, which looked as surprised as she felt.
Sitting in the corner, next to the duke and the duke’s younger brother, was none other than the man who’d licked her nose earlier that afternoon.
Captain Devlin Brookes.
