“Ah, yes. The one about her Aunt being all that a lady should be, or some such.”
“Yes.” Frank said, studying the glowing tip of his cigar. Though he had been thinking incessantly about his angel, he could not bring himself to discuss the evening before with Shrewsbury.
Shrewsbury lit his own cigar and then drew on it. “No doubt she is a passionate little thing.”
Frank looked from the fire to his friend’s face. “What makes you think so?”
“I can always tell that about a woman by the way she converses. She looks you in the eye. She is earnest. She moves her hands a great deal.”
“Hmm.” Frank considered this. “You should have seen her with her musical friends, if you think she was earnest with you.”
“What’s more,” Shrewsbury continued, “hers is honest passion.”
“Not like Lila’s, you mean?” Frank surveyed his friend with interest.
“Lila is a selfish beast.”
Frank smiled. “Disillusioned?”
“A bit. But we do have an arrangement, nevertheless. However, if you do not have an interest in Miss Edwards …”
“Poaching, are we?” Frank’s idle question hid an anxiety that disturbed him. Shrewsbury was very attractive to women.
His friend smiled. “So you do intend to pursue things. However will you go about it if she doesn’t attend the balls?”
“I am to teach her archery. As soon as I finish smoking this cigar, I am off to locate a women’s bow.”
“Ahh.” Shrewsbury nodded. “What a good idea.”
“Why did you ask if she was interested in Good Works?”
“I’ve an idea for a girl’s school. The Duke and Duchess of Beverley’s project to teach those orphan boys to read is admirable, but what about the girls? As things stand, most of them only qualify for one profession. The oldest one.”
Frank reflected on this surprising observation. No one in today’s society gave a thought to orphan girls. It was as though they were invisible. “Yes, you are absolutely right. Literacy is key for their betterment.”
“I’ve got a building. My servants are cleaning it. Now I’m looking for teachers.”
“Shall I talk to my angel about it? I’m going there later.”
“You are really certain you mean to pursue her?”
“I am, actually.” Never comfortable talking about his feelings, Frank squirmed a bit and sat up straight. “Are you all right for money for this project? I’d be willing to donate.”
“I’ll need books, once I get the teachers. Your help wouldn’t come amiss.”
“And Miss Edwards?”
“Please. Ask her about the project.”
~~*
As Frank strode through the streets, he mulled over his conversation with Shrewsbury. If he thought his glorious discovery of Sophie to have given him the edge over other men, he supposed he could forget it. Once she gave her public performance, everyone with eyes to see and ears to hear would glean the understanding he now had. She was, in addition to being an angel, a person of rare understanding. When he had first seen her in Buck’s drawing room, he had been taken by both her vulnerability and courage. He had known she was different.
But last night, she had changed everything. Now he yearned to hold her close, to protect her from those in society who, like Lila, had no idea of who she really was. At the same time, he wanted to applaud for her.
Frank had reached the shop where archery sets, croquet sets, and cricket paraphernalia were sold. Entering, he went at once to the women’s bows and began testing them. Fortunately, he found just what he wanted but had feared he would not find. A bow that need not be altered at all. He judged it to be perfect for his Sophie. As well as the bow, he bought a target and a quiverful of arrows. Frank waited impatiently while they were packaged, and then, hailing a hackney, made his way to the Marquis of Deal’s townhouse.
He was received by the butler, who informed him that the ladies were still out but were expected to return for tea, if he would care to wait. The marquis was in his library.
{ 9 }
EXCEPT FOR HER PERFORMANCE ENSEMBLE, such gowns as Sophie had ever owned had been stitched up by the family seamstress. Until the night of Melissa’s ball, she had never thought much about her gowns, having lived for the most part only in the family circle. Madame Colbert was clearly delighted to have the dressing of her. “Ma petite, you have the form parfait, and your coloring is so interresante. Those eyes, they are tres magnifique. For you, not the jewel colors. For you, the colors of springtime—the yellows, the soft greens, the pinks, the apricots.” As she spoke, she pointed to bolts of muslin and silk for her assistant to pull off the shelves. Draping Sophie with the different fabrics, she made notations with her pencil and murmured to herself in cockney English.