The Rogue Steals a Bride Page 3

  The earl faced Sophia, and she realized he was talking to her, so she smiled.

  “When the music resumes, Miss Hart, would you give me the pleasure of a dance?”

  “Yes, thank you, my lord.”

  “Good. I shall return for you later.” He nodded to her aunts and Sir Randolph before walking away.

  “And with his leaving, I think I shall bid you ladies adieu and take my leave as well,” Sir Randolph said.

  “Surely not, Sir Randolph,” June said.

  “It’s growing late, Miss Shevington, and I’ve already introduced Sophia to far more gentlemen than she can possibly dance or converse with tonight.”

  “Sir Randolph, are you sure?” Mae asked.

  He nodded. “My duty for this evening is done.”

  “Well, I don’t think you should leave Sophia just yet, Sir Randolph,” June added tersely. “There is much more that needs to be done for her.”

  “Then you do it, Miss Shevington. I’m only her guardian. You and your sister are her chaperones. I trust you can keep her safe. Unless for some reason you don’t feel capable, and if that’s the case, I’ll make other arrangements for her.”

  “No, no, of course not,” June hurried to say.

  “Someone other than us to watch after Sophia,” Mae added huffily. “Absolutely not. Her father would rise up out of the grave.”

  “Besides, we’d never hear of it, either,” June added.

  “Then I suggest you do your jobs, and I’ll do mine.”

  Sophia cleared her throat to cover her laughter. It wasn’t often anyone got the best of her dutiful aunts. Sophia had already known Sir Randolph well when he became her guardian. She had always looked forward to his visits with her father. But even so, the more she saw of him, the more she liked him. She considered him dapper, dashing, and quite a handsome fellow for his age. He was tall and robust with thick silver hair and an almost mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes that always made her smile.

  “Of course we will,” June said in a more conciliatory tone. “You’ll find no fault on our account. But before you go, tell me, do you think she pleased the patronesses of Almack’s?”

  Sir Randolph looked at Sophia and smiled. “She would please anyone, Miss Shevington.”

  “How can one know?” Mae asked. “They were so dour-looking when they spoke to her.”

  “They are always dour. It is their job to intimidate, discriminate, and irritate. They are supposed to do it well.”

  June pursed her lips and seemed to study over what he’d said. “So there is really no way to tell if she will be getting her vouchers?”

  “Aunties, please,” Sophia said, “don’t overburden Sir Randolph about such matters and with so many needless questions. We shall know soon enough if I’m to be allowed entrance into the hallowed grounds of that establishment. I’m certain I shall live quite well, even if I don’t.”

  Mae gasped and quickly looked around her. “Mind what you say, my dear, you never know who is listening.”

  June gave a worrisome cluck with her tongue. “And this is so very important, my dear. It’s such a coveted honor to be allowed entrance. It will increase your possibilities to make an excellent match.”

  Sophia turned with a smile to Sir Randolph. “I have no doubt that I shall be fine with or without the prized tickets, don’t you agree?”

  He smiled and nodded.

  “Aunties would keep me here all evening if they could. In fact, I’m quite ready to quit this place myself.”

  “Oh, but you can’t,” June said. “You promised Lord Bighampton a dance, and at least two or three other gentlemen.”

  “And I shall honor my commitment to each one of them, Auntie. I said only I’m ready to go, not that I will.”

  “Well, Sophia,” Mae added, “if you think this has been a long night, just wait until the Season is in full tilt. You’ll be attending three or four different parties each night. Sir Randolph has opened many doors for you, my dear, and we intend to see you walk through each and every one of them, don’t we, Sister?”

  “Indeed we do.”

  Sophia turned to her guardian again. “And I do thank you for your attention tonight, Sir Randolph.”

  He patted her upper arm affectionately. “I have no doubt that gentlemen will start approaching me with offers for your hand tomorrow morning, but I will refuse to see all of them. Just remember that when you choose to marry, Sophia, choose wisely.”

  “I shall, Sir Randolph.”

  Sophia knew exactly what she needed to do. A titled gentleman would satisfy her debt to her father and give her the redemption she sought, and a gentleman who would allow her the freedom to make decisions in Shevington Shipping would satisfy her. Her father had never once mentioned that she should marry for love, affection, or even respect, so those things needn’t be considered. The only thing that had mattered to him was that she have the one thing his wealth was unable to give him: a title. And the only way she could achieve that high honor was to marry a titled gentleman and become his countess or his duchess.

  There were times when she couldn’t believe she’d given her father her word that she would fulfill his wish for her. But it had been at the height of his suffering, and she had hoped in some way it might ease his pain and maybe save his life. And in doing that, give her the release she needed for what she’d cost him when she was seven years old. She had always been rash, impulsive, and had acted before she gave due consideration for the consequences of what she was doing. That behavior must be her nature, because she was still prone to speak and act before she thought.

  “Oh, wouldn’t it be simply divine if she married someone like that handsome Lord Bighampton?” Mae said as Sir Randolph walked away.

  June gave her sister an odd look. “What are you speaking of, Mae? You know it matters not if he’s handsome, as long as he’s titled.”

  “Yes, of course you are right, Sister, but Lord Bighampton just happens to be both.”

  Sophia didn’t want her aunts to get into an argument, as they were prone to do at times, so she said, “Aunt June, could I trouble you to get me a cup of punch? I feel in need of a little refreshment before the next dance begins.”

  “Why, of course, my dear. It’s no trouble at all.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Mae said.

  “You’ll do no such thing,” her sister admonished. “We can’t leave Sophia alone. What would people think if they saw her standing all by herself at her first ball?”

  “Of course, you’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  June walked away, and Sophia looked at her aunt Mae. Her dark green eyes were still watching Lord Bighampton with great interest. “Are you all right, Auntie?” she asked.

  “Oh, yes, quite,” she said without turning to look at Sophia. “I was just admiring how distinguished Lord Bighampton is. He’s the most handsome gentlemen I’ve ever seen.”

  Sophia heard something that sounded like wistfulness in her aunt’s voice and saw a faraway look in her eyes. She wanted to dismiss those notions as ridiculous, but something stopped her. Sophia couldn’t remember ever seeing either of her aunts as contemplative as Mae was. And while the earl was not a horrible-looking man by any standards, Sophia didn’t consider him handsome. The stranger who’d helped her with the young lad came to mind. Now he was a handsome man.

  Sophia smiled. “I do believe you are enchanted by the earl.”

  Mae gasped and started fanning herself with her hand-painted fan. “Who? Me? Don’t be ridiculous. Certainly not.”

  “Auntie, it’s all right if the man is pleasing to your eyes.”

  “Well, of course, I know that. And he is. I think he will be a perfect match for you.”

  “For me?” Sophia shook her head. “He is an earl, and I will consider him, but I’m not sure he would be the right
person for me. You know, Auntie, he’s the perfect age for you.”

  “Me?” Mae fanned herself faster. “What’s gotten into you, child? I’m way too old to make a match.”

  “Nonsense. You can be too young to marry, but you cannot be too old.”

  “I suppose that could be true if you’ve been married before. Widows often remarry, and more than once.” Her attention drifted back to Lord Bighampton. “But marriage is not for spinsters like me. I let my chance at marriage and a family pass me by, and now it’s too late for this dried weed on the shelf.”

  The ring of wistfulness returned to her aunt’s voice, causing Sophia to say, “Oh, piffle. Who says it’s too late? Those old hens in Polite Society? The eager mamas who don’t care what they have to say or do to get their daughters vouchers for Almack’s? They don’t know everything.”

  “Yes, they do. And besides, June wouldn’t like it either.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Sophia argued. “She can’t tell you what to do, can she? You’re the oldest. You were born first, right?”

  “Here’s your punch,” June said, walking up to Sophia and Mae. “And, yes, she was born first. Now, I just heard the music will start again shortly, Sophia, so drink up.”

  Sophia took the punch cup and took a long sip.

  “Sophia, please,” June said, “you might be famished, but we don’t want anyone seeing you drink as if you were a dock worker at a local tavern. Take small, ladylike sips.”

  Her aunt continued to talk, but Sophia didn’t hear what she said. Over the rim of her punch cup she had caught sight of the gentleman who had tried to help her catch the boy thief. She slowly lowered her drink and stared at the man.

  He was superbly dressed in an evening coat that fit perfectly over wide, straight shoulders. His shirt was stunningly white beneath a red quilted waistcoat, and his neckcloth was superbly tied. Black trousers covered strong-looking legs spread far enough apart to lend a touch of arrogance to his stance. Everything about him spoke of power, privilege, and wealth, and her body and her mind were completely aware of him.

  She could tell that he was slowly searching the room and, for a heartbeat, she wondered if he might be looking for her.

  Three

  Chance is always powerful. Let your hook be always cast; in the pool where you least expect it, there will be fish.

  —Ovid

  Sophia’s breaths deepened. Her last sip of punch went down hard as she stared at the stranger. Out of the corner of her eye she saw someone approach her aunts and start talking to them, but she couldn’t take her gaze off the gentleman she’d met on the street. He was still slowly scouring the faces of everyone on the dance floor.

  “Sophia.” June lightly touched her shoulder. “You were just presented to Lord Snellingly, my dear. What do you say?”

  Quickly diverting her attention from the man she’d been watching, Sophia looked up to see a tall, thin man with a large, pointy nose smiling down at her. Her gaze was drawn to his collar and neckcloth. Both were unusually high, completely covering his neck and causing his head to tilt back. It looked woefully uncomfortable to Sophia, and she’d be surprised if the dear fellow could breathe properly.

  She curtsied and said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lord Snellingly.”

  He returned her smile with an ear-to-ear grin. “No, no, Miss Hart, it is always a gentleman’s pleasure to be introduced to such a beautiful young lady as yourself.”

  The earl moved so he was standing right in Sophia’s line of vision, so she stepped a little to one side, hoping to find the handsome stranger whom she could no longer see. Lord Snellingly moved too, and right in her line of sight again. “That’s very kind of you to say, my lord.”

  “Your story is such a fascinating one.”

  She studied on that comment for a moment and realized she had no idea what he was talking about. “In what way?”

  “Well, everyone knows and respects Sir Randolph, and no one had a hint from him that he has been your guardian for over a year. He kept knowledge of you secreted away from us.”

  “There was really no need for him to mention me. I couldn’t come out into Society until my mourning was past.”

  His eyebrows lifted, and he laid a hand over his heart. “It’s never easy to lose a loved one, is it?”

  “No, never,” she answered, not wanting to think about having lost her father or her mother.

  “Tell me, Miss Hart, do you enjoy reading poetry?”

  Sophia was surprised he went from one subject to the other so quickly, but answered, “Yes, of course, I read poetry.”

  “Splendid.” He sniffed into the lace-trimmed handkerchief he held. “I’ve found it can be very comforting, no matter the troubles that tear at a tender heart. And tell me, do you write it?”

  “I’m not very good at writing poetry, I’m afraid,” she said, moving a little to the left again in hopes of catching a glance of the stranger, but once again the earl moved when she did. “I do give it a try from time to time.”

  “Excellent to hear.” His smile broadened, and he clasped his hands together in front of him. Layers of lace cuffs spread across his chest. “I am a member of the Royal Society of Accomplished Poets.”

  “I’m sure that’s a great honor,” Sophia said.

  “Indeed it is. I’m told I’m a dramatic poet. Perhaps I can stop by your house tomorrow afternoon and share some of my latest verse with you.”

  “We would be honored for you to do so, Lord Snellingly,” Jane said, “but not tomorrow. Perhaps in a couple of days it will be fine. This is Sophia’s first ball, and we would like for her to attend one or two more before we start allowing gentlemen to call on her. You do understand, don’t you?”

  “Yes. Quite the thing to do, Miss Shevington. I completely understand.”

  “But we’re so pleased that you want to share your poetry with her,” Mae added. “I’m certain it’s truly inspiring.”

  “Why, yes, Miss Shevington, it is,” Lord Snellingly said.

  He turned his attention back to Sophia. “I’m also aware of a young ladies’ poetry society. I’m certain I can get you an invitation to join, if you would like to be considered.”

  Writing poetry was not something Sophia wanted to do. In fact, it would be torture. She wanted to write business letters to Shevington’s suppliers and negotiate contracts for better terms on their shipping fees. But she kept all that to herself, smiled pleasantly, and said, “It’s certainly something I’ll ponder. Thank you, Lord Snellingly.”

  “Miss Hart, the shade of your green eyes reminds me of a meadow that has just been washed by a spring rain.” The earl then turned to June. “With your permission, I’d like to claim a dance with Miss Hart later in the evening.”

  “She will be delighted.”

  “Good. Now I shall find a quiet corner and write a few lines of poetry just for you, Miss Hart.”

  Finally Lord Snellingly smiled at Sophia, bowed, and walked away. Sophia immediately searched for the stranger. She wanted to talk to him but knew her aunts would never allow it unless someone introduced them, or unless she managed to get away from her aunts’ watchful eyes.

  “Oh, Sophia,” Mae said, watching the earl walk away, “don’t you think he is divinely handsome? He’s so tall, so regal, and a poet too.”

  Sophia had barely looked at the man. She didn’t think she’d ever seen a gentleman wear that much lace on his cuffs or one who thought so highly of his poetry. But not wanting to take issue with her aunt, she simply said, “Quite handsome.” She took a sip of her punch, and then added, “I think I’ll make a visit to the retiring room. Do excuse me.”

  “I’ll go with you,” June said.

  “Please, Auntie,” Sophia said, giving the empty cup to her. “Please allow me to at least do this one thing by myself. I remember how to get to the room, and with s
o many people here, I can assure you no harm will befall me before I can return safely to your side.”

  June’s eyebrows rose disapprovingly. “I don’t like the idea of you being alone. Don’t you agree, Mae?”

  “How can I be alone?” Sophia asked, frustration mounting. “There are more than two hundred people here.”

  A wrinkle of concern creased Mae’s brow. “I suppose we could allow her to go alone once in a while. We don’t want to be accused of smothering her.” She turned to Sophia. “But do not allow any of the gentlemen you have met to entice you to take a walk in the garden with them.”

  Excitement suddenly danced inside Sophia at the thought of having a few moments alone. “That is an easy promise to make.”

  “Nor for a walk on the terrace, either,” June added.

  “Another promise,” Sophia said and turned from her aunts before they could come up with another excuse or change their minds.

  Sophia searched the faces for the gentleman as she slowly threaded her way through the people to the other side of the room. He had moved from the area where she’d last seen him. She reached the exit doorway and paused. Another slow perusal of the people told her he was nowhere to be found. She exited the noisy room, continuing to look for him even as she walked down the corridor, but it was as if he’d disappeared. Disappointment stung deep in her abdomen. She’d wanted to talk to him.

  She made her way down the first long corridor that would, after a couple of turns, eventually lead her to the ladies’ retiring room at the back of the Great Hall. She turned another corner and felt someone ease up beside her.

  Her pulse quickened in anticipation. She turned and saw it was the stranger.

  “Sir,” she said softly. She stopped and inhaled deeply, trying to calm her racing heartbeat. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  A touch of a smile played at the corners of his mouth, making him even more handsome than she’d remembered. He was obviously pleased with her words, and her heart fluttered at the prospect.