“Mercy, woman. Mercy.”
Her horse rounded the fallen tree. “Your head start is rapidly disappearing.”
Shaking his head, he turned his horse around and trotted back toward the place where Betsy waited for them.
Bright laughter sounded behind him, and the muffled hoofbeats picked up pace.
His heart gave a twang.
He was in so much trouble.
CHAPTER 17
The high,sweet notes of flute music ended as the song came to an end, and Lady Carlisle motioned toward Sophie with her fan. “Won’t you play next, my dear?”
They were gathered in the largest drawing room at Nunhaven, exchanging gossip over tea and biscuits while the guests took turns entertaining one another with displays of their musical prowess. The previous performer, Miss Marianne Bloombury, had played a simple but delightful song.
The same could not be said of all of the guests.
“Yes, you must,” Baron Sylvestor urged from where he sat opposite her. “I’ll turn the pages for you.”
When no one else made a move for the instruments, Sophie rose and headed for the piano. Miss Bloombury was packing away her flute, and she smiled as Sophie approached, but her face fell as she glanced over Sophie’s shoulder.
Sneaking a look back, Sophie realized that the baron had followed her. She recalled what Lady Wembley had said about Miss Bloombury’s crush on him and felt rather sorry for the other woman. She knew how much it hurt to long for a man she couldn’t have and, in this case, Sophie herself wasone of the obstacles in Miss Bloombury’s way. She was contributing to someone else’s misery.
“You played wonderfully,” Sophie told her, but the words didn’t ease her guilt.
Miss Bloombury forced a smile. “Thank you, Lady Sophie.”
Sitting at the piano, Sophie leafed through the music. The Wembleys’ taste differed from hers, so there were many she hadn’t played. She found a song she was reasonably familiar with and readied herself, skimming the notes to ensure she wouldn’t stumble over the first few bars.
Baron Sylvestor stood at her shoulder, and as she began to play, she was all too aware of how close he was and the way her body seemed to instinctively lean away from him. There were flutters in her gut that might have been mistaken for attraction, but she doubted it was truly anything more than nerves.
She couldn’t afford to make a misstep at this point. Not when she’d gambled everything on attending this house party in order to secure the baron’s hand in marriage. By the time they returned to London, there was no guarantee that her other viable candidates would still be unattached.
Everything rode on the baron.
Her fingers slipped, a discordant note jangling in conflict with the others, but fortunately no one seemed to notice, and she recovered quickly.
When she finished, the baron touched her shoulder, and she flinched, caught off guard. She turned toward him, and he smiled sheepishly.
“You’re very talented,” he said, moving away to give her space. “Perhaps the best musician we’ve heard yet today.”
“That’s very kind of you to say.” She wasn’t sure it was true. The performance hadn’t been her best work.
“And sincerely meant.” He offered her his arm, and she took it, allowing him to lead her away from the instrument. “I thought I might walk to the pond in an hour or so. It’s a reasonable hike but not too tiring. Would you like to accompany me?”
Her gut plunged. A walk alone with Baron Sylvestor?
That would certainly cement their courtship.
Her insides roiled. She should be pleased, so why did the suggestion make her want to run to her bedchamber and hide?
“I thought we’d decided on a group outing to the pond,” Nicholas broke in, startling her once again.
She wasn’t sure exactly when they’d reached the sofas, but apparently they had. She glanced at Nicholas, whose eyebrow was arched, the twist of his mouth verging on smug.
What was he doing?
