Lord Trowbridge's Angel (Six Rogues and Their Ladies #5) By: G.G. Vandagriff
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NO DOUBT, IT WAS IMPROPER to describe the man who stood in Sophie’s sister’s drawing room as tall, dark, and beautiful. But to her, he was. And this beautiful man had agreed to be her escort this evening. Drawing a long breath to steady herself, she moved into the room and stopped again. She chided herself for a sudden rush of nerves. Partnering him to a ball could not be any more intimidating than mastering a Beethoven violin concerto!
Although surrounded by all the ornate French and Italian furniture her sister had shipped home during her honeymoon, he failed to be dwarfed by it. In fact, he was speaking to her brother-in-law, Buck, the Marquis of Deal as a man who knew how to be the dominating force in any conversation. From where Sophie stood staring, she could not catch the words they spoke, but the gorgeous man’s laughter sounded full and rich, making his face crinkle up until his eyes almost disappeared. He also had two shy dimples. No doubt feeling her eyes upon him, her evening’s escort turned his head and saw her.
The laughter faded away, as though a curtain had been drawn over his features. He stared back, his eyes piercingly blue.
Sophie summoned the only smile she could, aware that it was slight. Walking toward them, she was more than ever conscious of her limp. She tried to glide as her sister Elise would have done. Then, with renewed firmness of mind, she told herself that she was not Elise, she was not her sister Fanny. She was Sophie. And Sophie was adequate.
Buck spotted her, and his face creased in a smile. “Sophie! My dear, you look splendid. Your gown suits you to a cow’s thumb.”
“Thank you, Buck,” she said, managing a broader smile this time. She had been unsure of the gown, one of Fanny’s, since she had not had time to have one made up. A breath of leaf green sarcenet over a silver satin underskirt, it was cut expertly so that the Empire waist sat just right over her slight hips, as rightly as it had fit Fanny, even though their builds differed. The sleeves were tiny puffs, the scalloped bodice modest and overlaid with silver lace. The only trim, a wide silver ribbon, ran under her bosom, tied in a bow, and fell to the scalloped hem. Sophie’s light brown hair and light green eyes were so different from Fanny’s vibrant looks, she had despaired of finding a gown that would do her more subdued appearance justice until she had found this shimmering creation.
Buck turned to the man at his side. “Frank, allow me to introduce the enchanting Miss Sophie Edwards, my wife’s sister. Sophie, this fribble is my present heir, Francis St. Oswald, Viscount Trowbridge.”
The viscount made a formal leg, and Sophie curtseyed.
“Delighted to meet you, Miss Edwards,” he said solemnly.
“I have heard much of you, my lord,” Sophie replied. “And all of it good, surprisingly.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And why should that surprise you?”
“Buck does not really think you a fribble, you know.”
“But I have never gone to sea.” He gestured wildly with his hands. “I have not been tested in battle. I have not seen the world beyond the Continent. So I am not only undereducated, but lazy. A proper gentleman of the ton.”
“I shall not hold it against you,” Sophie said, grinning. “You must know that Buck thinks going to sea is the only proper education.”
“Thank you. I understand that tonight will be your first ball,” Lord Trowbridge said. He smiled, his eyes crinkling again, and her heart was warmed. The anxiety she had not quite kept in check began to melt.
“Yes. I have lived retired in the country, though my sisters have been urging me to London. My dearest friend from Shropshire, Lady Melissa Aldridge, insisted that I attend her come-out ball. So here I am. May I say that it is very good of you to allow me your escort, my lord?”
“And may I say I shall be the envy of every young buck in attendance?”
“Frank! How delightful to see you!” Fanny made her entrance, rushing in, her skirts rustling. She offered her hand to Frank with an actress’s flair. He kissed it. “Sophie, how charming you do look, my dear. I am sorry to be late coming down. Alexa did not want me to leave her. Even at two months, she still does not want to be separated from Mummy.”
“Motherhood certainly becomes you, my lady,” Lord Trowbridge said with a short bow. “Why did you not tell me you were hiding such a lovely sister in the country?”
“Thank you, Frank. As to Sophie, we had little hope that we could tempt her to London. My escapades, to say nothing of my sister Elise’s, were a bit daunting. She was happy with her music as company.” She put her arm about Sophie’s waist. “Sophie is a serious violinist, you know. It is past time she brought her talents to London. We shall undoubtedly schedule a musicale soon.”