Sir Thomas lightly tapped his shoulder when he made to leave. “I have an idea for an outing for Sophia tomorrow morning and I was hoping you could come along to make sure we aren’t deviled by any outside interference. She’s been through so much, she deserves some time away from London where she can be free to enjoy the countryside.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“A nice, long horseback ride through the park. What do you say? You’ll join us?”
“What about Lady Lydia Howick? Shouldn’t she come along?”
“Oh, I think Miss Lydia is much more interested in the social offerings at the house. And she’ll have your fellow crewmen to look after her. Maybe that upright Captain Neville would be just the thing to keep her out of trouble? He seems a proper serious sort. I’ll send word tonight to the inn for him to come over to the house in the morning.”
“Let me assure you, just because you don’t see my men doesn’t mean they’re not on watch.” Arnaud’s eyes narrowed. “Now, to be clear. You want me alone along for guard duty while you court Miss Brancelli?”
“Yes, absolutely. That’s it. You’ve got it. Nothing escapes you Royal Navy chaps.”
“Of course. What time?” Arnaud ignored the slight sarcasm in Sir Thomas’s tone.
“Let’s say about nine in the morning? We’ll meet at the stables. I’ll have your mount ready.”
“Right.” Arnaud was deeply suspicious of Sir Thomas’s reasons for wanting only him along on his morning ride with Sophie, but he couldn’t very well resist or complain. Lord Howick had already lectured and warned him on the perils of any further obstinance or surliness in guarding Sophie.
“Now, I must see to my guests. There’s Admiral Longthorpe and Frannie. He must have offered to escort her out to the party. What a gentleman. You will excuse me.” Sir Thomas walked away toward Arnaud’s former lover standing close to the man who could elevate or destroy Arnaud’s Royal Navy career. Why the hell had Frannie been avoiding him, and why had she chosen now to show up at the same house party he was doomed to see through to the end?
When Arnaud stepped out into the twilight for a breath of air before returning to his wing, another elegant carriage pulled up to the Clifford House entrance. While grooms hastened to take charge of the team, a familiar face exited the carriage and then held out his hand to help an even more familiar figure leave the equipage.
Sir Thomas’s butler directed footmen and maids with guests’ trunks and servants with the efficiency of a field sergeant. In fact, Arnaud suspected he might very well be. He’d discovered, on his inspection of the property, that many of Sir Thomas’s workers were indeed veterans of the recent wars.
Arnaud faced a delicate military-type operation of his own, however. His mother walked up the steps on the arm of Admiral Sir Edward Thornbrough. One of her footmen from London extricated a cage containing a squirming, white mass of fur.God. Sophie’s damnable dog. Just when he thought circumstances could not get any darker.
“Good evening, my darling.” His mother dipped her head toward Arnaud.
“Captain,” the admiral intoned.
“Admiral Thornbrough.” Arnaud straightened with a snap. “So glad you’ll be joining the party.”
“Your mother reached out, and I came to her assistance. No one says ‘no’ to your mother.”
Arnaud decided there was no safe answer to that exchange, so merely nodded and gave his mother a light kiss on the cheek before following the couple back into the hall.
Once they were inside, Sir Thomas came forward, arms extended. “Welcome to Clifford Park. I see you’ve all met.” The jovial tone in Sir Thomas’s voice and the twinkle in his eyes made Arnaud want to pummel him down onto the expensive marble floor of his hall filled with portraits of his illustrious ancestors. Arnaud felt like an insect trapped on a chess board filled with complicated moves.
Sophie smoothed the pink-striped heavy silk of her evening dress and held the skirts up a bit while Lord Howick held out her chair. He pushed her chair in toward the table while she adjusted the heavy layers of trim along the hem and sat on the lush, velvet-cushioned chair. A thin line of gilt edged the light wood trim. Sir Thomas certainly took great care to ensure his guests’ comfort.
After she scooted back and settled into the generously proportioned chair, she looked up into the startling violet-hued eyes she could mistake for no other. Her father’s old friend, Mrs. Withers, sat directly across the table from Lord Howick. She stifled an involuntary gasp when she sensed Lord Howick next to her still as if waiting for her reaction.
Sophie gave the actress a sunny smile. “What a beautiful costume, Mrs. Withers. Isn’t that the one you wore for ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream?’”
Mrs. Withers returned the smile. “Yes, Titania. Sir Thomas asked me to present a few monologues after dinner this evening.”
“What an unexpected surprise.” Sophie leaned forward and couldn’t help sneaking a quick look at Lord Howick. The warm smile she caught from him told her everything she needed to know. Everyone at Howick House had worried about his loneliness, his many trips to the theater on his own. Sophie had to stifle a giggle. Lord Howick was in love.
She gave a discreet glance up and down the long table. Sir Thomas sat at the head of the table to her right, while an older woman she’d not met was at the opposite end. Perhaps an aunt? Or maybe his mother? The lady in question was giving her a piercing stare at the moment. When Sophie shifted her glance full-on to the lady, she did not look away.
Sophie had been to lots of boring dinner parties since the Season began. It seemed like years had passed, but actually it had been little more than a month.But this evening’s fete was unlike anything else she’d been forced to attend in her endless search for the perfect “gentleman of theton.”Sir Thomas’s sense of playfulness apparently extended to his entertaining style as well.
Lord Howick, to her left, leaned close enough to whisper in her ear. “Lady Fitzroy, the dowager countess, appears to be studying you in detail. She must be convinced you have designs on her son.”
Sophie turned to Howick, shocked. “But we’re merely friends. Doesn’t she know that?”
“There is no such thing as ‘merely friends’ within theton. Don’t be surprised if she traps you later for an interrogation.”
