Sophie glided down the stairs and over to Baron Sylvestor, who wore black trousers and a pale blue shirt that matched his eyes and molded to his trim torso.
“Good morning, my lord,” she greeted him with a smile. Perhaps it had been slightly rude of her to bypass Mr. Garfield, but if she was going to spend time with either of these men, she’d prefer it to be the baron. “We were just about to leave for a walk in Hyde Park.”
The rustle of silk indicated that her mother had joined her. “Perhaps we may all walk together.”
That sounded like a terrible idea, but unless either gentlemen decided to leave, Sophie didn’t think there was any avoiding it.
The baron’s gaze flitted from Sophie to Lady Carlisle to Mr. Garfield, who was approaching from behind them. His eyes narrowed in calculation, but then he nodded. “What a superb idea. It’s just the day for a jaunt in the park.”
Mr. Garfield scowled, clearly displeased with this turn of events. “Will we all fit in a carriage?”
Lady Carlisle tittered as if he’d said something funny. “We can travel in convoy. I’ll accompany the baron, since he’s a latecomer, and Lady Sophie can ride with Mr. Garfield.”
It wasn’t the outcome Sophie would have preferred, but she understood that her mother was trying to observe the rules of propriety as much as possible.
Her mother stepped outside, and Baron Sylvestor escorted her down the stairs to his carriage. Mr. Garfield claimed Sophie’s arm, and his chest puffed out as he followed suit. He helped her into his carriage, which was the one she had seen arriving earlier.
They didn’t talk much during the drive to the park. Mr.Garfield didn’t try to open a conversation, apparently simmering in irritation because of the baron’s interruption, and she didn’t bother either.
Perhaps she ought to have been open to getting to know him better, but between her own lack of interest and her concern about his motives, it was easier not to.
When they disembarked at Hyde Park, Mr. Garfield did his best to secure her arm before the baron could, but she deftly evaded him and walked alongside the baron instead.
“Have you and Lady Carlisle decided what date you will be leaving for the Wembley’s’ house party?” Baron Sylvestor asked as he guided her around a curve in the path. The river ran to their left, and many other groups of people were strolling together in the sun.
“I haven’t discussed the matter with my mother yet,” Sophie confessed, “but I suspect she has the details under control.”
When it came to things like this, she usually did.
“A house party?” Mr. Garfield asked from Sophie’s right, where he was escorting Lady Carlisle. “A bit early for that, isn’t it?”
The baron shrugged. “Lady Wembley can be somewhat of an eccentric, and with the weather as it is, I can understand her reasoning for holding it early.”
Mr. Garfield grumbled something. It was clear he hadn’t heard of the house party, and Sophie couldn’t help being a little bit pleased that he wouldn’t be there. It would be difficult enough to balance her false courtship with Nicholas and her real courtship with the baron.
“I prefer London to the country anyway,” Mr. Garfield muttered, yet again proving that Sophie’s disinterest in him was earned. His petulant attitude was immature, especially when she’d given him no reason to think they might be well matched.
She peeked at the baron. His countenance was sunny andcarefree, but there was a tension in his frame that belied it. He was probably just as annoyed by Mr. Garfield’s presence as Mr. Garfield was by his, but the baron had the maturity not to show it. That was an attractive trait.
“Both have their appeal,” the baron said amicably.
Mr. Garfield grunted noncommittally. “Lady Sophie, I’ve noticed that you spend a reasonable amount of time with Mr. Blackwell. Is there an understanding between you?”
Sophie stopped in her tracks. If the baron hadn’t been so fleet of foot, he might have dragged her off balance as he continued on. As it was, he stumbled and had to right himself.
“I beg your pardon?” She couldn’t believe Mr. Garfield’s nerve. It was one thing to ask such a question in private, but here in a public location, in front of another suitor, it was beyond the pale.
“As I understand it,” her mother said slowly, glancing between them as if expecting someone to lose their temper at any moment, “no formal understanding exists between Lady Sophie and any gentleman. Is that correct, darling?”
“It is,” Sophie gritted out.
Mr. Garfield looked pleased. “Then perhaps one may be made elsewhere.”
Sophie’s stomach dropped. Like hell was she marrying Mr. Garfield.
CHAPTER 13
A stablehand offeredSophie assistance to climb onto her horse, but before she could accept his help, Nicholas displaced him.
