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

In the meantime, another floral tribute arrived from Frank: a bunch of violets. Fanny looked them up in the new book. The meaning was “faithful love.” Frank seemed to have an uncanny ability to address her most pressing doubts.

Dr. Finch arrived and pronounced the dreaded news: Sophie had an inflammation of the lungs. He left Fanny with instructions about what to do if Sophie became delirious.

Sophie had not the strength to write a letter. When would she see Frank again? Would she even survive this fever? The last one had nearly taken her life.





{ 20 }



FRANK WAS UNABLE TO CONVINCE a very prideful Lila to write a retraction of her statement to Sophie.

“You have cast me aside, Frank. Is that not enough humiliation to bear without putting it down in writing for your present inamorata?”

He haunted the florist, choosing what flowers to send on what day, according to the little book he had found there and sent to Sophie.

He called daily at the house to find out her condition. When he heard she had inflammation of the lungs, he asked Buck, “How serious is this?”

“I’m sorry to say that it is very serious. I told you she had it for three weeks last year and nearly succumbed. But Fanny pulled her out of it then, and will do so this time. And her sister, the duchess, is with her now. Sophie isn’t delirious, and that’s a good sign.” He gave a bark of laughter. “If you were to see your ‘angel’ now, you would not know her. She is very cantankerous. It is particularly disappointing to her that her musicale must be postponed.”

With no inclination for balls, routs, picnics, or even carriage racing, Frank was blue-deviled. He had to see Sophie. He wanted to offer her comfort, to kiss her fevered brow, and hold her hand. He would not press his suit at such a time, but the idea that she could be carried away by this illness, that he might actually lose her, was so appalling that he could not sleep or eat. He must see her.

He knew no one in the house would approve a visit, so he fell to contemplating how he could manage it on his own. With this in mind, he paid a visit to Lady Melissa.

She received him with pleasure. “Lord Trowbridge, how nice of you to call!” she said, rising from the sofa in her morning room. She extended a hand, and he dutifully bowed over it.

Once she was seated, he took a chair close enough so that he could speak softly.

“Sophie is very ill. She could possibly die. I am beside myself, Lady Melissa. I must see her. Can you help me?”

Her face fell, but she said, “Of course I will. What would you like me to do?”

“Have you been to see her since she’s been ill?”

“Yes, poor darling. I was there yesterday. She is still fevered, but she knew me. She is not delirious, and that is a good sign. But her cough is wretched.”

Frank said, “I’m afraid we must be daring. Do you know where the servants’ stairs are?”

“Yes. Are you going to sneak in to see her?”

“I must. I am going mad. It has been a week since she fell ill.”

“I saw all the lovely flowers you have been sending her. And the book with all the meanings.”

“Is she still angry with me?”

“Why would she be angry with you?”

Frank was glad to know she had not confided in her friend regarding the business with Lila. “We had a trifling misunderstanding. She must have forgotten it.”

“So you want to get to her room by way of the servants’ stairs?”

“Yes, and it must be at night because I do not want to be caught out by Fanny or the duchess.”

Melissa’s eyes lit with eagerness. “Fanny would think it a good joke, but the duchess might hold it against you.”

“I think since you know your way around the house, it might be best if you came with me. Also, you can be our chaperone,” he added quickly as the need revealed itself to him.

“Ohhh. When are you going to make your attempt?”

“The sooner, the better.”

“Well, in that case, you will have to carry me away from the ball I am attending tonight. It is at the Fitzwilliams.’ I can meet you in the garden at eleven o’clock. Then we can take your carriage to Sophie’s.”

“How are we to get in? Have you any idea?”

Melissa pondered this. All at once, her countenance lit. “A window on the ground floor. I will visit her again this afternoon, and I will unlock a window in the ballroom downstairs. It is never used. And it is quite near the servants’ stair.”

“It sounds ideal for our purposes.”

“But you must have me back at the ball by supper, or I will be missed!”

“We shall contrive.” He stood and offered his hand. “I appreciate your help more than I can say.”

“You must really love her,” Lady Melissa said.





{ 21 }



SOPHIE WAS WEARY of her enforced bed rest. Now that her fever had broken and she was out of danger, she wanted to be up and about, playing her violin, visiting her niece and nephew, and most especially continuing her “archery lessons.” She had decided at some time during her illness that she believed Frank and still loved him.

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