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

THE NEXT WEEK FLEW BY with rehearsals in the morning, fittings for her wedding gown, packing for her honeymoon, and as many properly chaperoned visits with Frank as could be managed.

Sophie continued her prescribed exercises and massages and found that they pained her less as time went on. Walking also pained her less.

One night, Fanny hosted a dinner, including Elise and Peter as well as Frank. With her family around the table, toasting her and Frank, Sophie said, “I am beginning to feel like this marriage actually is going to take place.”

“Welcome to the family, Frank,” the duke said. “Hanford Hall will make a wonderful home for you and Sophie and your children. I enjoyed our visit there.”

“We are planning on a houseful,” Frank said. “You know how much Sophie loves children.”

Sophie felt herself blush. “I will still be a doting aunt,” she said. “I promise.”

Buck asked, “Has anyone heard from Lady Hatchet?”

“I have,” Sophie said quietly. “She does not plan to come up for the wedding, fortunately.”

“Yes, that is a very good thing,” Elise said. “But what reason did she give?”

Sophie smiled and put a hand over Frank’s as he sat next to her, “Frank is a mere viscount, so she does not see that it is necessary for her to bestir herself.”

“You cannot realize how lucky you are, Frank,” the duke said. “Fortunately, Elise and I eloped to Scotland.”

“And our wedding was also a spur of the moment thing,” Buck said. He winked at Fanny, seated at the other end of the table.

Frank raised his glass. “I propose a toast to the Edwards ladies, who are all beautiful, graceful, good-tempered, and warm-hearted in spite of their hair-raising upbringing!”

“Hear, hear,” echoed Buck and Peter.

~~*

As Sophie lay in bed the night before her concert, she thought how lucky she was that her sisters had insisted she come to London. She would have dwindled into an old maid in Derbyshire. And how fortunate that someone as worldly wise as Frank would see any merit in her person and fall deeply in love with her in so short a time. Though London still overwhelmed her, she would feel less so when her knee was less painful and more flexible. And she could not wait for her musicale the next evening. Performing was a new pleasure, a wonderful harvest time for the talent she had worked so hard to acquire.

And the very next day, she would be married in St. George’s at Hanover Square, with only her family, including her nieces and nephew, present. The idea sent a shiver of pleasure through her. In no time at all, she would be Frank’s wife. She would sleep in his bed and give him children. How very blessed she was!





{ 41 }



FRANK SAT IN THE FRONT ROW of chairs set up in the ballroom for Sophie’s concert. The room was crowded. His fiancée looked like a princess in her performance blacks. The Carstairs also looked very grand in matching black jackets.

When they began to play, his heart swelled with pride. Sophie was truly marvelous. The piece was appropriately challenging and evidence of Beethoven’s genius. But in his mind, nothing would ever match that first performance of the Mozart he had heard when he had been completely taken out of himself and then reintroduced. Sophie had touched the core of him, and thanks to her and her music, he would never be the same man.

He watched her play an especially difficult passage. She swayed and bobbed and flourished her bow. How very sad that her own mother could not appreciate what a jewel she had for a daughter. Frank vowed to make certain that she had contact with her sisters as often as possible.

Then it was over. The applause was enthusiastic. All three musicians bowed.

He would tell her now. He could not wait. This was the appropriate time.

When the applause finished, he handed Sophie down from the dais and pulled her into the adjoining room. Before saying anything, he kissed her deeply, trying to convey his passionate appreciation. It was the first time since their engagement they had been without a chaperone. He deepened the kiss, his breath coming faster. The formerly shy Sophie broke away and kissed his cheeks and ears, even biting his earlobe.

He laughed.

“Oh, my,” she said. “How very wicked I am.”

“My own power of expression is somewhat limited until after our wedding. Your performance was magical.”

“Thank you. It was a lovely piece, was it not?”

“Yes. And I cannot wait another moment to tell you of the surprise I have for you.”

“Oh! Tell me! What is it?”

“We are to go to Vienna. I have a friend who knows a patron of Herr van Beethoven there. He will arrange for us to meet the great man. Although I have heard that he is quite grumpy.”

“Oh, Frank. You are bound to be the perfect husband for me! I cannot begin to express my gratitude for such a thoughtful gift. How can I ever repay you?”

“You are giving me Sophie Edwards, a gift so wonderful I never thought to possess it. Believe me. That is over and above anything I could desire.”

G.G. Vandagriff's books