“I have not been on the town long enough to attract that sort of devotion, Lord Trowbridge. I know you better than anyone else.”
“And you know, no one better, how much I love Sophie.”
“Of course I do.”
“I have been thinking that perhaps your brother and I might come up with a plan.”
“Donald is not blessed with a brain, unfortunately.”
“He does like to gamble, however.”
“Yes?”
“I might be of assistance to him.”
“Do not encourage him, my lord.”
“I must beg of you, my lady, to remember that things are not always what they seem.”
When he set Lady Melissa down in front of her house, he asked, “Is Lord Donald about? I would have a word with him.”
“I will inquire.”
They entered the townhouse and Melissa sent her butler to locate her brother. When he appeared, eyes alight and hand extended in welcome, Frank said, “How about joining me for dinner at Brook’s tomorrow night?”
“I’d be honored, my lord.”
They settled on eight o’clock, and Frank took his leave.
{ 25 }
SOPHIE WOKE LATE with a weight on her chest, though it took her a moment to recall what had caused it. Memory flooded in much too fast. Dragging herself from bed, she rang for Sally and thought how best to distract herself. Possibly, they could resume rehearsals today, if the Carstairs were amenable. Then she remembered her half-hatched plan.
Sally arrived with a bouquet of mixed roses, a card, and a letter. Seeing Frank’s hand on the envelope containing the letter, she opened it while telling Sally that she would wear her powder blue muslin.
The letter caused her some tears. How were they to get out of this tangle? Poor Melissa. Sophie knew that this marriage would be welcome to her under other circumstances. Who would not be at least a little in love with Frank?
Slitting open the note, she was surprised to find that the flowers were not from Frank, but rather from Lord Shrewsbury, with “the greatest admiration.” She had not thought of this complication. Now that Frank was supposedly out of her life, Shrewsbury seemed to be renewing his suit. Bother! Under other circumstances, she might have liked the baron very well, but to her mind and heart, he could not compare with Frank.
Staring in her mirror, she laughed at herself. Lord Trowbridge and Lord Shrewsbury were both extraordinary men. Had she really been some sort of angel, flown in from Derbyshire, watching the men from above before she ever met them, she would have thought both men to be wildly beyond her touch. Not only were they uncommonly handsome, but they were both exceedingly interesting gentlemen. Frank and she were in tune to a greater extent, and she was devoted to him in a way she never could have previously understood. He had opened new worlds of understanding. It was almost as though the grass was greener, the sky was bluer because of Frank. But what if she had known Shrewsbury first? It was surely very ungallant of her to brush him off as an unwanted suitor. Perhaps they could be good friends.
While she was finishing her breakfast, she received the news that Peter was awaiting her in the morning room. She dreaded facing him.
His heavy eyebrows drawn into a frown, her brother-in-law greeted her. “This is a proper mess, and no mistake, Sophie. That devil Kent. I am sorry for all three of you.”
“Thank you for your support, Peter. I did not expect it.”
His frown cleared and he took her hand in his. “Frank has explained the whole of it to me,” he reassured her. “Now, Elise and I think with all the gossip surrounding the engagement that it would be wise of you to be out of town for a few days. I came to invite you, if you are truly restored in health, to go with us and Lord Shrewsbury on a little journey of discovery. We are looking for an ideal place for this orphanage for girls.”
Sophie said, “Oh dear. I would like to be with you and Elise, but Shrewsbury wants to press his suit. I received roses from him this morning. And there are the rehearsals for my concert which must be resumed.”
Peter frowned. “Shrewsbury, eh? Well, my dear, it would not hurt to have an extra string to your bow, so to speak.”
“Peter! How fickle you must think me! I love Frank. More than a little. I am devoted to him.”
“I promise you that we will not leave you and the baron alone together,” Peter said. “But he has a right to participate in the business since it was originally his idea.”
“How long would we be gone?” Sophie asked.
“Four to five days. We are looking for a place where the girls can be brought up to a trade as well.”
“What direction are we going?”
“Towards Chipping Camden in Gloucestershire where they have the wool trade, I think. It is not far from London and has supplied many good jobs for the Duke of Beverley’s orphans.”
“Actually, it will be quite splendid to get back to the country,” Sophie said, looking outside at the sooty gloom of a cloudy morning. “It would raise my spirits. But I ought not to go. The rehearsals …”
“Have you set a new date?”