Lord Trowbridge's Angel (Six Rogues and Their Ladies #5)

“Yes. I think that would be a good idea,” Sophie remarked.

They reached Buck’s home a good half hour later. Sophie decided not to invite the baron inside. Instead, she said, “That was delightful! Thank you so much for escorting me so that I did not miss it. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a long day tomorrow.”

He raised a hand to her cheek. “Yes you look at bit fatigued. I will bid you good evening.” Bringing her gloved hand to his lips, he kissed her knuckles just as Perkins opened the door. Then he was gone.

She was too tired to worry about Shrewbury’s attentions tonight. She would talk it out with Elise tomorrow.

~~*

Sophie received two offerings the following morning. To her discomfort, Lord Shrewsbury sent her a bouquet of white roses. His card read, Thank you for a memorable evening. I look forward to many more.

The other was a delicate maidenhair fern from Frank. This lovely thing is the color of your eyes. I missed you last night. Perhaps you would be so kind as to hostess a dinner party at my house tonight? I will invite Buck and Fanny (and Alexa, of course), Shrewsbury, Lady Melissa, her parents, and the Ruisdells, if they have not committed elsewhere for the early part of the evening. I would also count it as an honor if you would give us a repeat performance of the Mozart on your violin.

Your own,





Frank

What fun! Of course, she would love to be hostess. Dashing off a note to that effect, she gave it to Sally to give to the footman for delivery. What an admirable way for Shrewsbury to find out where her interests lay.

The rehearsal for the musicale went well. Much of the movement was the cello and violin’s dissonant foil for the lovely melody of Bella’s piano. Timing was all-important, especially as they did not have a conductor. Fortunately, Joseph had brought his metronome.

After luncheon, during which Fanny held Alexa on her lap and Sophie made a ridiculous fuss over the child, she left in the carriage for Elise’s townhouse, Shearings. Herbert admitted her, telling her Elise was in the nursery.

Sophie’s niece greeted her with unbounded joy. “Sooophieee. Emma’s Sooophiee.” Scooping up the two-year-old, Sophie covered her with kisses.

Elise greeted her. “Oh Sophie, how wonderful to see you! I am as excited as Emma. I’m afraid Alistair is doing lessons with his tutor in the schoolroom.”

“Then I can concentrate all my affections on this little one,” Sophie said. She had known Emma since her birth, and the unconditional love the child rained on her had always been heartwarming.

Giving Elise a kiss on the cheek, she asked, “Did I get her before or after her nap?”

“Before,” Elise said, “So no ‘This is the way the ladies ride,’ if you please. In fact, a lullaby would be just the thing.”

Sophie settled Emma in her arms, and began to sing, “Hush a bye baby, in the treetops …”

Before she knew it, the little thing had two fingers in her mouth and her lids were drooping.

The chill of dread that she might never have her own children did not enter Sophie’s breast today. Mother had always prophesied that bleak future for Sophie. Now there was someone in her life who had “serious intentions.”

Marriage, she must conclude, was for once an actual possibility, as were babies, one would hope, as well. The thought warmed her. There was the possibility that she would be singing to her own babies one day, possibly even teaching them to play the piano and sing themselves.

When the lullaby was over, she rocked Emma for a few extra minutes, smiling down at the baby, and then allowed Elise to put her in her cot.

“Let us go into my sitting room, where we can talk,” Elise whispered.

When they were situated in the cheery room with its turquoise-and-white-striped walls and furniture, Sophie said, “Elise, I need your advice.”

“You are absolutely glowing! Never tell me you have fallen in love!”

“I think I have. With Gorgeous Frank.” Sophie related the incidents of the night of her violin performance and followed with the archery lesson.

“Frank says his intent is serious.”

“Sophie, how lovely this all is. I have never known Frank to favor any respectable woman. I think he must be smitten indeed.” She rang the servant’s bell. “This calls for a celebration. Peter has known Frank for years. He has been a patron of my soup kitchen since the beginning. But he has always struck me as someone who uses his beautiful manners to keep everyone at a distance.”

“That’s how I thought of him at first, as well. He started right off calling me ‘angel. ’”

Elise’s maid Betsy entered, and Elise asked for Cook’s chocolate macaroons and some tea. Chocolate maroons were one of the rare treats they had enjoyed as children.

When Betsy exited, Sophie said, “My little violin concert seems to have unlocked Frank and shown him to himself. But I am in a quandary.”

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