Fanny gave a little laugh and said, “The ambition of every hostess of a rout is to have so many people attend that it is termed a ‘crush.’ The object of the evening is to converse, but that is made exceedingly difficult because one can hardly hear oneself think.”
“So,” Frank said, “Even though Lady Melissa might have been close to me in purely geographical terms, there were at least two conversational circles between us.”
Sophie was quiet. Frank always seemed to have a facile answer for everything.
“Sophie?” he asked. “Do you forgive me for the unintentional slight of your friend?”
Thoughts that had been tormenting her all day long spilled to the surface. “You are a brilliant star among the ton, Frank. That is something I never aspire to be.” She looked at him, standing with his arm along the mantel above her. His eyes were warm but questioning. “It is very hard to sit in this house and hear things about you, wondering if they are true, exaggerated, or downright false. And how would you like to be married to someone who did not desire a social life among the ton? Whose tastes are quiet and close to home? I do not dance, ride, or even stroll very well. It pains me very much to say so, Frank, but I do not think we would suit.”
She knew that in another moment she would be in tears, so she stood and nodded. “Good evening, Fanny, Frank. I am going up.”
Frank caught up with her in the hall, hand on her arm. “Sophie! There has been too much misunderstanding between us. All I want is you. Society has bored me for years.”
“Please leave, Frank. This has been a very difficult day. And, judging by your actions, I do not think you truly know your own heart.”
~~*
Once in her room, Sophie wept again over Frank. In her mind, she could see the knot that had originally formed between them. At one time, it had seemed so strong and inevitable. It was badly frayed through absence and misunderstanding. She could not keep offering her trust, only to be dashed with cold disappointment. Her heart hurt almost constantly now.
She wished mightily that she did not have to remain in town for her performance. At the moment, more than anything, she wished herself in Derbyshire, safe and secure. Away from the temptation of thinking that she might be loved. And away from the prospect of her best friend marrying the only man she had ever thought to marry herself. The man who was so wrong for her in every way.
Sophie slept fitfully, tormented by a recurring dream. She was playing her violin—a piece far too difficult for her. Frank was present as some sort of ghost in a red domino. He flew about the room, occasionally touching her with magic fingers. Every time he touched her, she found the right note, and her bow soared.
{ 34 }
STUNNED, FRANK STUMBLED BACK to the masquerade. Thoughts collided in his head. Sophie was right.
He claimed to have changed, but nothing he had done since the night his inner self had responded so wholeheartedly to her violin demonstrated that. He had become embroiled in fiasco after fiasco. It was time he devoted serious thought to the situation.
His watch told him that it lacked a half hour until supper. The supper dance must begin soon. He must find Lady Melissa.
In her gold sheath, she was distinguishable even in the crowd of multi-colored costumes. At the moment, she was dancing with the Red Indian. Her features were animated. Even from the sidelines, he could read the sparkle in her eyes.
Frank felt himself to be the worst kind of villain for the situation in which they found themselves. It was only one of the shocks Sophie had had to bear. She had thought on two occasions that he had taken up with Lila again. He was devilishly careless in his actions. They took him leagues away from the person he wanted to become.
He was forced to admit the truth of Sophie’s words. At the present juncture, they clearly did not suit. But not because of Sophie’s preferences, but rather because he had failed them both. What was it he had said? That he wanted to live an intentional life. He was a hollow man, reacting to bad situations, further from an intentional life than he had ever been. His heart was in the game, but not his head. He had not made the changes he should have. He should never have visited Sophie in her room, no matter how tempting it had been. And he should have been firm with Lila, thinking how their actions would appear. Even the night she came to his house. He should have persuaded her to leave at once.
Melissa was coming off the floor, smiling up at her partner. He walked near to where they stood, reluctant to curtail her pleasure with his presence. As the next set started to form, he walked up to the pair.
“Excuse me, Your Highness. This is our dance.”
The Red Indian had been holding her hand. He gave it over to Frank in a formal gesture. Frank nodded stiffly and led Melissa out on the crowded dance floor.
“You’re looking grim, my lord. Is dancing with me such a punishment?” his partner asked.
“Not at all. If I am looking grim, it is because Sophie has ended things between us. I do not blame her. My life has been one disaster after another, of late.”