“Lord Shrewsbury, my good friend, is organizing a school for girls. The orphans in the East End. He wants to teach them to read. Would you be willing to donate some of your time as a teacher?”
Sophie blinked. Why was she surprised that he was involved in such a venture? He had mentioned to her at the ball his concerns for the poor.
“I would be most happy to help. I think that is a splendid idea! I would do it even without the archery lessons, you know.”
“Do you think perhaps Lady Melissa would be willing to teach, as well?”
“I am certain she would. She is very good with children.”
“I would be interested, too,” Fanny said. “As soon as Alexa no longer needs me at her beck and call. Speaking of whom, I had better go to her. But I think it a marvelous idea, Frank.”
“Good! I will tell Shrewsbury.” He stood. “Now, I will take my leave. But I will return tomorrow afternoon at two o’clock.”
They both rose from the bench, and he saluted her with a kiss on her bare knuckles. Sophie’s whole arm prickled, and the kiss seemed to go straight to her fluttering heart. Get hold of yourself, my girl!
She smiled and bade him good day.
~~*
As Sophie lay in her bed, she tried to think rationally about Frank. He was gorgeous, and that was for certain. She had not been exposed to many fashionable men in her life, but he had an unmistakable air of confidence and competence.
Thinking about the first time she had seen him, her stomach quivered as she remembered how his face had changed from laughter to serious regard as he looked at her. What had he been thinking?
Compliments had rolled off his tongue that night, with the sure practice of an expert. Had he meant any of them?
There had been a sea change in him last night. They had connected. She was certain they had. But today, he seemed, for the most part, to be falling back on his classic wit and extravagance. Perhaps he did not know how to act when they were in company.
If only she need not have a chaperone! They could recapture that intimacy of last night. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before. Just thinking of it brought to mind words like exquisite, velvet, and starry. They had both stepped into another realm when she began to play. No wonder he had had recourse to Byron. But she did prefer his own words: Angel, you have given me a gift so rare I cannot find the phrases to describe it. But Byron almost has the words to define you in your black silk and cameo. And the orchid symbolizes your rarity. With my heart, Frank.
~~*
Frank arrived at precisely two o’clock. Sophie had not had time to change out of the unflattering blue muslin round gown she had worn for rehearsal that morning. Fanny and Sophie greeted him together.
“Good afternoon, ladies! Sophie, are you prepared to become a serious archer?”
“I am not perfectly certain,” she said, keeping her face straight.
Raising an eyebrow, he told her, “Surely, as a serious violinist, you know not to face challenges in a tepid manner. Nothing is to be gained that way.”
“Let us proceed to the back garden,” she said. “You are very good to teach me.”
Frank set up the target, then paced off the distance to the place where Sophie should stand. Fanny sat watching in a garden seat, wearing a large sun bonnet, cradling Alexa in her arms. Sophie donned her new gauntlets and took up the bow, holding it as she had watched others do.
Trowbridge said, “Here, let me show you.” Putting both arms around her, he placed a hand over each of hers. She was locked in his arms so closely, she could smell the citrus of the cologne he wore. His strongly muscled arms held her encircled completely. Heat prickled over her whole body.
“You nock the arrow just so. Then you close one eye and, stretching out the bowstring, you look with your other eye along the length of the arrow to the target,” he said. “Line them up.”
She tried to do as he suggested, but it was impossible to concentrate with his arms around her.
“Angel!” he said, his voice husky. “You are trembling. Relax the bow.”
Putting his hands on her shoulders, he turned her to face him and looked into her eyes.
“Lord Trowbridge, are you trying to seduce me?” she asked in a low voice.
“What?” His forehead bunched, his eyes showed outrage.
“I may be just a green girl, but I cannot think of one other reason why you would contrive to have me in your arms.”
Full of some odd energy, he clutched his fists and paced about in a circle. “Not a single other reason?” He paced some more, finally coming to a halt in front of her. “Have you forgotten the night before last? I believe your soul actually seared mine, Sophie. Archery is but a game. But my feelings for you, though I make light of them most of the time, are not. And I am Frank, Sophie.”
She could only nod.
“When men have these sorts of feelings for a woman, unless she is married, they pursue them. If she is a virtuous young woman, and they are decent men, they do not do so with seduction in mind, but with serious intent. Honorable intent.”