Courting Miss Vallois (13 page)

‘And you would have me believe that
you
are the one doing that.'

Oberon smiled, managing to look both guilty and humble at the same time. ‘I may have been a trifle bold in my conduct towards you in the past, Miss Vallois, but I like to think I have always been honest. And I'm not saying Robert is a bad man for, indeed, he is not. But he has been through a great deal, and sometimes, when a man is pushed to the very limits of his endurance, the darker emotions rise up to consume him. I would not wish to see you become…an unwitting victim of that weakness.'

Sophie tapped her fingers on the sash. It was hard to believe they were talking abut the same man. Yes, Robert had been pushed to the limits, but it was impossible to reconcile the desperate, unfeeling gambler Oberon made him out to be with the caring, honourable gentleman she had come to know and admire. Her intuition told her she could not be that far wrong. Besides, experience had taught her it was never wise to judge
a person's conduct until one was in full possession of the facts. Oberon had told her his side of the story. She had yet to hear Robert's.

‘You said there were two things you wished to see me about, Mr Oberon,' Sophie said, meeting his gaze. ‘The possibility of my becoming Mr Silverton's mistress would seem to be one. Dare I ask about the other?'

He smiled, though his expression reflected an element of chagrin. ‘I should have known you would not be so easily persuaded. Your loyalty does you credit, Miss Vallois, as does your willingness to believe the best of the people you care about. I hope I may be counted amongst those people, because my affection for you
is
the other matter I've come to see you about.'

Sophie caught her breath. Surely he was not about to declare himself. ‘Mr Oberon, I would rather not—'

‘Please hear me out. The only reason I've kept silent about my feelings was a result of being unsure of my place in yours. But now that I know Silverton has not stolen a march on me, the time has come to tell you that I care deeply for you, and that I have ever since we met. It would please me greatly if you would do me the honour of becoming my wife.'

No, no, no, this was not what she wanted to hear! ‘How can you ask me such a question after admitting you were also a party to this wager?' Sophie said. ‘By knowing you are as anxious to hold on to your stallion as you say Mr Silverton is to win him, I can only question the motive behind your proposal.'

He affected a look of pain. ‘My dear Miss Vallois. Horses are nothing more than commodities to be bought and sold.
You
are one of a kind. And did I not tell you
that I became a party to the wager entirely without my knowledge?'

‘Yes, but then everything you've told me today is unsubstantiated,' Sophie said. ‘I have no proof that the claims you make against Mr Silverton are valid, or that your feelings for me are as honest as you would have me believe.'

‘Nevertheless, they are what they are, and only consider what you stand to gain by marrying me. Wealth, status, a title. Everything a woman could ask for.'

But not love, Sophie reflected. He said nothing about being in love with her—because he wasn't. ‘Thank you, Mr Oberon. Though I am flattered by your offer, I cannot possibly accept. Apart from the fact I have no wish to marry, I do not love you. And I would
never
consider marrying without love. And now, I bid you good afternoon.'

He didn't look surprised. He didn't even look regretful. As he started towards the door, he actually began to smile. ‘I understand. But if you think about it a bit longer, you'll come to realise that in this case, love is not the only consideration. You stand to gain a great deal by accepting my proposal, Miss Vallois, but you stand to lose even more by turning me down. You might like to think about that before giving me your answer. And I
will
call again,' he said as he opened the door. ‘Of that you can be sure.'

T
he memory of Mr Oberon's visit stayed with Sophie long after he'd left, as did his ominous parting words. She had no idea what he'd meant by saying she stood to lose much by turning him down, but she wasn't foolish enough to believe he was speaking in jest. What little she knew of Oberon convinced her he was a man used to getting his own way. As such, it was with a definite feeling of trepidation that she accompanied Nicholas and Lavinia to a soirée at the home of Lord and Lady Chiswick that same evening. She felt quite sure Mr Oberon would be there and that he would be watching her every move. As she settled into the carriage for the short ride to Park Lane, she couldn't shake the feeling that something very bad was about to happen.

‘So, this is the young lady we've been hearing so much about,' Lord Chiswick said upon being introduced to her. ‘I can see why.' He was a large man, with a large nose, large hands and ears that stuck out from two tufts of unruly grey hair. ‘You are an uncommonly beautiful
young woman. I'll wager the young bucks are beating a path to your door.' His bushy eyebrows twitched as his hand closed hot and heavy around hers. ‘I know I would, had you been part of
my
circle thirty years ago.'

‘Put the poor girl down, Wallace, you'll give her nightmares,' Lady Chiswick said with a long-suffering sigh. ‘You must forgive my husband, Miss Vallois. He is just returned from safari and killing wild animals always tends to fire his imagination. So, are you and your brother enjoying your visit to London?'

‘Yes, very much,' Sophie said, disengaging her hand as tactfully as possible. ‘There is so much to see and do.'

‘London is the finest city in the world,' Lady Chiswick said proudly. ‘I wasn't at all impressed with Paris when I went to visit my brother and sister-in-law there last year. The filth was appalling.'

‘When did you go?' Lavinia asked.

‘December. Wretched time to travel, but my niece horrified everyone by falling in love with some well-to-do Frenchman and marrying him. Shocking mess. Constance insisted I be there to lend the family moral support.'

Sophie felt a chill run down her spine.
Constance…and a December wedding.
It had to be a coincidence…

‘Naturally, my brother wasn't at all happy,' Lady Chiswick was saying. ‘The moment Georgina left on her wedding trip, he sold the house, packed up all their belongings and brought the entire household back to En gland. I think he was afraid his son and youngest daughter might do something equally foolish. He vowed none of them would ever set foot on French soil again.'

Sophie closed her eyes. Constance Grant-Ogilvy had had three children: one son and two daughters.
The wilful, eldest daughter had been called Georgina, and before Sophie had left their employ, Georgina had hinted that she was in love with a man of whom her parents would not approve.

It
had
to be the same family. And if they were related to Lady Chiswick, they might well be here tonight…

‘Sophie, are you feeling all right?' Lavinia asked softly. ‘You've suddenly gone quite pale.'

‘Have I?'

‘Probably the heat,' Lady Chiswick said. ‘It always affects the newcomers. Have you smelling salts with you, dear?'

‘No! That is, thank you, but…that won't be necessary,' Sophie said haltingly. ‘I just need some air.'

‘Why don't you take a turn around the garden?' Lavinia suggested. ‘The night air should put some colour back in your cheeks.'

‘Excellent idea, Lady Longworth,' Lady Chiswick said. ‘You'll find the entrance through there, Miss Vallois. I'm sure a few minutes will be all you need.'

Sophie inclined her head, grateful for the opportunity to escape. But as she headed towards the French doors that led out into the garden, she knew she needed more than air. She needed to get out of this house. Now…before anything dreadful happened. She hadn't told anyone of her reasons for leaving Mrs Grant-Ogilvy's employ. Accusing the eldest son of inappropriate behaviour was never a recommended course of action for a servant. After all, what an Englishman did on his own property was nobody's business but his own. Sophie had been told that more than once. Fortunately, Eldon hadn't succeeded in ravishing her. She'd been too quick for him. And several well-placed jabs from her elbow
had been enough to cool his ardour, as had the veiled threat that she carried a pistol and knew how to use it.

But the fear that
one
day he might catch her off guard had eventually forced Sophie to turn in her notice, and she had left that very day. As expected, Mrs Grant-Ogilvy had been furious. She'd vowed that Sophie would never find work with a decent family again, and had gleefully predicted that she would be on the streets within a week—which, of course, she hadn't. With several good clients bringing her custom on a regular basis, and the small amount of money Antoine brought in, they were able to get by. She didn't need the pittance Mrs Grant-Ogilvy paid her, and she certainly didn't need her snooty disdain—

‘Miss Vallois?'

Sophie looked up, startled to see Robert coming towards her. ‘Mr Silverton. What are you doing out here?'

‘I could ask you the same thing.' He walked along a winding path illuminated by candles set in metal boxes. ‘Shouldn't you be inside mingling?'

‘Probably, but the room grew unbearably hot.' Sophie frowned. ‘I vow English hostesses vie with one another to see who can squeeze the greatest number of people into their houses.'

‘It is an ongoing competition,' Robert agreed. Stopping before her, he rested his foot on the stone bench. ‘I was taking a walk in the lower garden, wrestling with my thoughts.'

Wrestling with his thoughts? Sophie stared into the dark waters of the ornamental pond, convinced that his thoughts couldn't be half as troubling as hers. For one thing, he wouldn't be worrying about a proposal
of marriage from an unwanted suitor, complete with thinly veiled threats of retribution should she refuse. He also wouldn't be troubled by the knowledge that her hostess was related to her former employer, and that the latter might well be in the house tonight. And he certainly wouldn't be worrying about the fact that he had discovered her here, alone in a moonlit garden, with thoughts running through her mind that were both sweet…and forbidden.

‘I wasn't aware you were here,' she said, adding feebly, ‘I didn't see Jane inside.'

‘Jane didn't come with me.' He looked pained for a moment. ‘We had words the other morning and she decided to stay home.'

‘Words? I find it hard to imagine you and Jane having an argument.'

‘Nevertheless, it does happen. I am not the perfect brother Jane would have you believe.'

‘We are none of us perfect,' Sophie said distantly. ‘I am constantly amazed by the number of mistakes I make. I thought as I got older they would diminish.'

His laughter was as soft as the night air. ‘We all like to think we improve with age, but somehow, I suspect it's more wishful thinking than anything else. But I cannot imagine a lady who wishes to float down the Amazon in a boat, or ride in a hot-air balloon, being overly concerned with mistakes.' He straightened, then came to sit down beside her. ‘Jane thinks you're marvellous.'

‘She does?'

‘Oh, yes. You're the closest friend she's ever had. People tend not to want to associate with those who are afflicted in some way,' he said quietly. ‘I suppose
it's the law of the jungle. Only the strong survive. The weak are weeded out and destroyed.'

‘You mustn't speak of her that way!'

‘Who better? I know first-hand how cruel people can be, having seen examples of it all my life. Her chances for happiness are few.'

‘I think you worry needlessly, Mr Silverton—'

‘Robert, please.'

Her heart did a silly little flip. ‘Robert. Your sister is a beautiful young woman with a warm and giving nature. She will be loved for those reasons alone.'

‘I wish that were the case, but at eight-and-twenty, Jane's chances of marrying well are non-existent and at this stage, her chances of marrying at all are slim. Had she a sizeable portion, I might hold out more hope,' Robert said, ‘but much of what we had went to pay off Father's gambling debts. And while we manage well enough, Jane will always be dependent on me for her living. I don't begrudge that for a moment, but I would have liked her to know the sweetness of a husband's love and the joy of holding her own children in her arms.'

Sophie had to turn away lest she reveal too much of her own longings. ‘What kind of husband would you wish her to find?'

‘One for whom she can feel a deep and abiding love, and who will love her deeply in return. He must respect rather than pity her, for Jane would hate that above all. And he must take her as she is and not look to change her.'

‘Do you believe such a man exists?'

‘I have to. For her sake, if not for mine.' Robert reached for her hand and slowly raised it to his lips. ‘But thank you for being her friend. It means a great
deal…to both of us.' Then, turning it over, he pressed a soft, lingering kiss into her palm.

Sophie inhaled sharply. The caress was unexpected…and disturbingly intimate, as was the warmth of his breath on her skin. The air suddenly thickened and grew hot. And when he looked at her…ah, the way he looked at her…

‘Miss Vallois?' called a voice from the house. ‘Where are you, child? Miss Vallois?'

Sophie gasped, all but wrenching her hand back. ‘Lady Chiswick!'

‘Does she know you're out here?' Robert asked.

‘I'm afraid so.'

His expletive made her blush. ‘Then it's best she not find us alone. We don't need
both
of us being shunned by good society. Come, I'll take you back inside.'

Unfortunately, barely had they stood up before Lavinia, Lady Chiswick and Mr Oberon appeared in the doorway. ‘Miss Vallois!' Lady Chiswick cried in horror. ‘Alone in the garden with a man? What is the meaning of this?'

‘Well, well, if it isn't my old friend,' Mr Oberon murmured. ‘Enjoying a moonlight rendezvous in the garden. How terribly romantic.'

‘It wasn't a rendezvous!' Sophie said, glad for the darkness that hid her blush. ‘Mr Silverton and I met quite by—'

‘Mr
Silverton
?' Lady Chiswick wheezed. ‘
Robert
Silverton?'

‘Yes, that's right,' Robert said, frowning. ‘Is something wrong?'

‘There most definitely is.' Lady Chiswick's eyes went
as hard as bits of stone. ‘How
dare
you show your face in my house, sir! You were most definitely
not
invited.'

‘As a matter of fact, he was,' Mr Oberon said smoothly. ‘By your husband. I delivered the invitation myself.'

The lady turned an alarming shade of red. ‘My husband does
not
extend invitations to my gatherings, Mr Oberon. And even if he was foolish enough to do so, Mr Silverton should have had the decency to decline.' The lady's voice dropped to a sepulchral tone. ‘He is guilty of the
most
unconscionable behaviour towards my goddaughter—'

‘Goddaughter?' Lavinia said…and then gasped. ‘Oh, dear Lord. Lady Mary Kelsey is your
goddaughter
?'

‘Yes, she is, and she has been treated abominably by this man! I want you out of my house, sir. Now!'

‘But, surely you are being too harsh, Lady Chiswick,' Lavinia said, quickly drawing the glass doors closed behind them.

‘Do not try to placate me, Lady Longworth. If a member of
your
family had been treated in such a manner, you would feel as I do. My poor Mary did nothing to deserve the treatment she received at this man's hands.' She pointed a bony finger at Robert. ‘Leave my house at once, sir!'

‘
Le bon Dieu
, how can you be so cruel?' Sophie said, shaken by the woman's ferocity. ‘Mr Silverton is a gentleman—'

‘He is a bounder, Miss Vallois, and you would do well not to waste your time defending him!'

‘Miss Vallois is not defending me.' Robert's quiet voice cut through the night like the blade of a scimitar. ‘She is speaking from the goodness of her heart and
without knowledge of what happened.' He turned to glare at Oberon. ‘Unlike some people who know very well.'

‘No, he is
not
a bounder,' Sophie said emphatically. ‘He would not have ended his engagement to Lady Mary unless he had a very good reason.'

‘A good
reason
?' Lady Chiswick was close to apoplectic. ‘There is no
good
reason except that he is a selfish and fickle man!'

Sophie's temper flared. ‘He is none of those things! He is fine and decent and—'

‘Miss
Beaudoin
? What on earth are
you
doing here?'

No one had heard the French doors open, but the commanding voice that rang across the terrace instantly silenced all arguments. Sophie just closed her eyes. She had no need to turn around to see who the newcomer was. She would have recognised that imperious voice anywhere!

‘What is the meaning of this, Eudora?' Mrs Constance Grant-Ogilvy demanded of her sister-in-law. ‘What is Miss Beaudoin doing here and why is she dressed like that?'

The woman's enunciation would have put an Oxford scholar to shame, and for the first time that evening, Lady Chiswick seemed completely flummoxed. ‘I have no idea what you're talking about, Constance. This is Miss Sophie Vallois. She and her brother are here as guests of Lord and Lady Longworth.'

‘Sophie Vallois? What are you talking about, the girl's name is Chantal Beaudoin and she is a French seamstress,' Mrs Grant-Ogilvy informed her. ‘I employed her to teach the girls French.'