Courting Miss Vallois (10 page)

Mr Oberon strolled in, dashing as ever in gleaming Hessians, skin-tight breeches of fawn-coloured doe-skin, and a cutaway coat of dark blue superfine. But his waistcoat was unusually subdued and his neckcloth was tied in a simple but elegant knot. ‘Good afternoon, Lady Longworth, Miss Vallois. I came in hopes of taking you both out for a drive. The weather has turned fine and I thought it might be pleasant to take a turn about the Park.'

‘You are very kind to ask, Mr Oberon,' Lavinia said. ‘But I have Mr Harris coming to see me about new curtains. Sophie may go, if she wishes.'

Had it been a few days earlier, Sophie would have declined, having no wish to offer any kind of encouragement to Mr Oberon. But at the moment, she didn't want to be alone. After what had happened, she felt a desperate need to get out into the sunshine, to dispel the darkness of her thoughts by talking to someone who would naturally try to flatter her and make her laugh. If such was a flagrant abuse of his time, she would do her best to suffer the guilt.

‘I would like that, Mr Oberon,' she said. ‘If you will wait but a moment, I shall get ready.'

 

Fifteen minutes later, she allowed Mr Oberon to help her up into his dashing, high-perch phaeton.

‘I vow I am carrying a ray of sunshine in my carriage,' he said as he climbed into the seat beside her. ‘And never did one look lovelier.'

Sophie smiled as she opened her parasol. The carriage gown of buttery yellow muslin had seemed perfect
for the occasion, but she had not worn it with a view towards inviting compliments. Mr Oberon needed no encouragement for that. But as if sensing she was not herself, he set out to be more charming than usual. He kept the carriage to a sedate pace and assumed the role of guide, pointing out houses of interest along the way and regaling her with amusing stories as they clipped along. But when after five minutes had passed and the only sound was the steady thud of the horses' hooves, he turned to her and said, ‘You are noticeably quiet this afternoon, Miss Vallois. Dare I ask what is troubling you?'

Sophie sighed, aware that despite her best efforts, she had been a less than obliging guest. ‘Forgive me, Mr Oberon, I admit my thoughts have been somewhat distracted.'

‘I hope with nothing of a serious nature.'

‘Serious enough.'

‘Does this concern our mutual friend, Mr Silverton?'

Sophie was too unhappy to hide her surprise. ‘How did you know?'

‘A lucky guess. You seem to enjoy the gentleman's company and given that you were in such good spirits when we parted the other night, I wondered if it might have something to do with him.' He flicked a perceptive glance in her direction. ‘Am I close?'

It was hard to know how much to reveal. Was the murder of Robert's brother something one discussed with a man who was little more than a stranger?

It was, if she had any hopes of understanding Robert better.

‘Are you familiar with the nature of the tragedy concerning Mr Silverton's brother?' she asked.

‘With Michael? Oh, yes, I know all about that. It was a terrible thing,' Mr Oberon said. ‘I've always wondered how Robert and Jane got through it.'

Sophie blinked. Compassion? From Mr Oberon? ‘I suppose it was because they had each other.'

‘I dare say that's true.' Oberon looked at her again. ‘I am surprised he told you.'

‘He did not wish to.' Sophie averted her gaze. ‘I goaded him into it.'

‘
You
goaded Silver? I doubt that very much, Miss Vallois. You are anything but pushy.'

‘I was the other morning,' she said miserably. And in as few words as possible, she told him of her conversation with Robert and of its distressing outcome.

‘Ah, I see why you are downcast. You wish to have Robert's good opinion and fear now you may have lost it.'

‘I am not as concerned with what he thinks of me, Mr Oberon, as I am with knowing how clumsily I brought back the memory of something he obviously wishes to forget.'

‘But if we are speaking honestly, just being around you is likely to do that. Your delightful accent, slight as it is, betrays your origins and will always come between you.'

The words cut like a knife, partly because Sophie knew them to be true and partly because they had been uttered by someone who knew Robert much better than she did. ‘You do not think he would ever be able to see beyond it?'

‘I think it unlikely,' Oberon said. ‘Robert has very strong opinions about the French. I'm telling you this because he and I have been good friends for years. We
were even closer before his brother was killed. But all that changed after Michael's death. And it didn't help that his father committed suicide not long after.'

Sophie gasped. ‘Suicide?'

‘Not many people were willing to come right out and say that, of course, but I believe Sir William took his own life,' Oberon said. ‘He was never the same after word came back from France that Michael had been killed. He'd been so proud of his eldest son. Michael was a captain and his father thought him the best of all men. He loved Robert, but Michael was the apple of his eye, and he took his death very hard. He shut himself away for weeks on end, refusing to see anyone. The gambling started shortly thereafter. Robert tried to stop him, but his father would have none of it. It was an addiction, you see, and Sir William could no more stop himself from gambling than he could bring his eldest son back from the grave. The family carried on as best they could, but it was impossible to ignore the fact that he was getting worse, as was their financial situation.

‘Ironically, it was Robert who saved the family from total ruin,' Oberon went on. ‘He had a knack for winning and was able to recoup much of what his father lost. But it was a dreadful situation and everyone feared for the outcome. Then, some months later, Sir William said he was going north to a hunting lodge in Scotland. It seemed a sudden decision, but he told Robert he was meeting friends for some shooting. Many of us hoped it was a sign Sir William was on the mend, but as it turned out, nothing could have been further from the truth. One of the gamekeepers found him in the far woods a few days later. Some say it was an accident, but I don't believe he ever had any intention of coming back.'

‘How terrible!' Sophie said in a hushed voice.

‘It was. And not long after, Lady Silverton fell into a dreadful decline. The doctors said there was nothing they could do. That she had lost the will to live.'

It was almost too much to bear. Sophie tried to imagine how devastating three deaths in close succession must have been for Robert and his sister, but it was completely beyond her. ‘I cannot imagine how they endured it.'

‘Neither can I, but I know it was the start of Robert's bitterness towards the French. I suppose, in many ways, he blames them for the loss of his entire family. Naturally, I tried to make him see that despising an entire nation over the thoughtless actions of one lunatic made absolutely no sense, but he couldn't see it. Wouldn't see it, I suppose. And he resented me for having tried to change his mind.'

‘I'm sorry to hear that,' Sophie said, gazing at the road ahead. ‘It isn't fair that you were made to suffer for trying to make him see reason.'

‘Robert was set on a course from which I could not dissuade him,' Oberon said regretfully.

It was everything Sophie hadn't wanted to hear because, with every word, Mr Oberon confirmed that her chances for any kind of reconciliation with Robert were virtually non-existent. ‘I wonder that his sister does not share his antipathy towards the French,' she said at length. ‘The first time we met, she told me how much she was looking forward to speaking to me of Paris.'

‘Jane is not as hard as her brother. She's had her own challenges to deal with and in overcoming those she has learned the meaning of tolerance. Dealing with disap
pointment at such an early age has enabled her to look more kindly, perhaps with more forgiveness, upon the world.'

Sophie turned her head to look at him. ‘You surprise me, Mr Oberon. I would not have expected such compassion from you. Or such understanding.'

He smiled, the brim of his hat shading his eyes. ‘I am often judged more harshly than I deserve, Miss Vallois. But I do not trouble myself over it. Trying to correct the opinions of others serves no useful purpose. It is enough that those of whom I think highly know who I am.' He turned to look at her. ‘I hope I may consider you one of those people.'

It seemed impossible to believe, but Sophie realised her opinion of the man had changed. How could it not given everything she had heard today? ‘You may consider me so, Mr Oberon. And thank you for telling me more of Mr Silverton's sad story.'

‘You understand, of course, that he would not wish to know I had told you of it,' Oberon said, returning his attention to the road. ‘Robert is a proud man, and proud men do not like their weaknesses being shared with others.'

‘I will, of course, make no mention of our conversation,' Sophie assured him. ‘I am well aware of how deeply I hurt Mr Silverton. I have no desire to make matters worse.'

‘Thank you. I value Robert's friendship too, what little I have left of it. He is, in all ways, an admirable man, as I told you the second time we met.'

‘Yes,' Sophie whispered. ‘Quiet, honest and steady as a rock.'

She felt his gaze upon her, but did not turn her head. ‘You have an excellent memory, Miss Vallois.'

‘For some things, Mr Oberon.' An image of Robert's face appeared in her mind: the firm line of his chin, the broad sweep of his forehead, the smile on his lips when he was pleased or amused. A smile she was afraid she might never see again. ‘For some things.'

 

As a result of the carriage ride with Mr Oberon, Sophie's spirits were only marginally restored by the time she and Antoine joined Nicholas and Lavinia for a soirée at the home of Sir David and Lady Hester the following evening. Everything Mr Oberon had said convinced her that the gulf between her and Robert was too wide to bridge. Even the sound of her voice would remind him of that painful time in his life. How could anyone enjoy a friendship under such strained conditions?

Fortunately, Antoine more than made up for her lack of good spirits as a result of having spent the best part of the day at Nicholas's club.

‘I must admit you were right in everything you said about Nicholas,' Antoine commented as he and Sophie stood by the edge of the dance floor later that evening. ‘He has introduced me to several of his closest friends and they are all excellent fellows. Lord Marwood invited me to come shooting with him, and Mr Kingsley said we would be most welcome to pay a call on him and his wife, either here or at their country house.'

‘I'm happy for you, Antoine,' Sophie said, wishing she could find the strength to match his enthusiasm. ‘You are moving with a very smart crowd and seem to be enjoying it.'

‘It has all been Nicholas's doing,' Antoine said, looking out over the floor. ‘If it were not for him—'

He stopped so abruptly that Sophie turned her head to look up at him. ‘If
what
weren't for him?' Then, following his gaze, she saw Robert and Jane Silverton standing at the other side of the room.

In an instant, her breath caught.
What shall I say to him?
To ignore him would be craven, but how did she
begin
to apologise for what had happened the other morning?

‘I did not think Miss Silverton would be here this evening,' Antoine said softly.

That was all it took. It was there, in his voice. And in a moment of heartbreaking insight, Sophie realised she was not the only one wrestling with demons. Her brother was in love with Jane Silverton—and Sophie knew it was doomed to fail. Robert would never give his approval. ‘I suggest you not stare at her so boldly, dearest,' she cautioned, ‘lest people begin to wonder at the nature of your feelings.'

Two spots of colour appeared high on her brother's cheeks. ‘There is nothing between myself and Miss Silverton,' he said too quickly. ‘I simply enjoy talking to her.'

‘Then pray do not stare at her as though you wish you could do more. I am not the only one in the room with observant eyes.'

As if to confirm her fears, Sophie saw old Mrs Templeton smile and nod in their direction, and then lean in closer to her eldest daughter. When she whispered something in her ear, the daughter also turned to look and likewise smiled in that knowing kind of way.

‘I suggest you ask Miss Templeton to dance,' Sophie
said quickly. ‘Inform her that you are oft in the habit of staring at people when your thoughts are actually preoccupied with thoughts of…medical procedures.'

‘Medical procedures? What are you talking about, Sophie?'

‘Just do as I say unless you wish Miss Silverton to be at the heart of rumours over which you have no control. In fact, you might like to stare at Miss Templeton in just such a way before asking
her
to dance.'

‘Now you're talking nonsense.'

‘No, I'm not. I may be younger than you, but I understand the rules of the game far better.'

‘And what are you going to do while I am playing these games?' he asked drily.

‘I am going to speak to Mr Silverton.' Sophie took a long, deep breath. ‘I fear I have already said too many things for which an explanation is required and an apology offered.'

 

Robert had not wanted to come this evening. Not only because the last thing he felt like doing was socialising with people who resented his presence, but because of his last agonising conversation with Sophie. She hadn't deserved the harshness of his reply. When he had begun relating the details of Michael's death, he had seen how deeply she was affected, yet he had still gone on talking, adding detail upon detail until her face had turned white and her eyes had reflected the horror of his words. It had been a heartless thing to do, entirely unnecessary, and if it were within his power, he would have taken back every single word.