Sophie's Halloo (20 page)

“Oh, dear!” exclaimed Sophie’s mother.

“Oh?” enquired Tony politely.

“Yes,” said Sadie gruffly. “Fellow dressed as a huntsman. If John had been there, he would have called the fellow to account, but I managed to turn him off without too much bother and brought Sophie home directly.” She looked at Tony accusingly. “We looked for you, Sir Tony, and did not find you.”

Throughout the telling of last night’s adventure, Tony had regarded Aunt Sadie with the most polite attentiveness, and now he assumed an expression of total innocence. Suddenly struck by his innocent demeanour, Sadie asked suspiciously, “Just how were you dressed last night?”

Sophie’s heart took a leap as she waited for Tony to answer. Now, certainly, was the time for his declaration and an end to all her weeks of waiting. Sir John would not be pleased, but she thought she could count on her mother and Aunt Sadie to understand and support her. She smiled at him expectantly, but did not catch his eye, and the next words he uttered wiped the smile completely from her face.

“I’m very sorry,” he said, “but I’m afraid something happened which prevented me from attending at all.” He went on to apologize in the most contrite terms for misleading them about the masquerade and expressed his regrets that they had been discomfitted. But Sophie did not hear the rest. She was hurt, stunned, and felt herself drawing back into a cloud of confusion.

She stood up abruptly, suddenly unable to tolerate being in the room a moment longer. “Pardon me,” she said mechanically and, without waiting for an answer, walked quickly from the room.

Tony leapt to his feet as the two ladies looked after her in dismay. He took one step towards Lady Corby’s chair and addressed her rapidly, “May I go to her, please?”

Lady Corby looked up. Her mind had been rattled by the speed with which things were happening, and although she suspected something had occurred to upset Sophie’s heart with respect to Tony, she had not the slightest idea what it could have been. She started to protest, but her hand was quickly caught in his and Tony appealed to her with urgent entreaty. “Please,” he said again quietly.

She searched his face for understanding and found something there which comforted her. “All right,” she said with perfect composure, as though a young man chasing her daughter up the stairs would be nothing out of the ordinary.

Tony caught up with Sophie on the first landing, after ignoring the footman’s offer for assistance in finding his way out. That respectable servant gazed on in fascination as the young lady of the house was enveloped in an amorous hug from behind.

“Sophie,” said Tony softly as he kissed the back of her hair and neck. “What’s wrong?”

He got no answer, but there was a noticeable relaxation of the stiffness in her back.

“Did I say something to offend you?” He tried to reach his head around to one cheek to feel for the appearance of a dimple, but she turned her face away in silence, apparently not appeased.

“Oh, Sophie,” he said in a caressing tone, “didn’t you know I gave the view-halloo when I first saw you?”

That speech did the trick, and Sophie whirled around in the fold of his arms to look at him accusingly. “So it was you, wasn’t it?” she charged, at the same time allowing him to wrap his arms securely round her waist.

“Well, I should hope so,” he said in a righteous tone.

“Then why did you lie?” she asked, still not satisfied with his answers. “I thought you said you were a truthful person.”

“I am,” said Tony blithely, “when the truth doesn’t threaten my chances with my beloved.” He paused, but when he saw she had not forgiven him yet, he added, “How should your mother have reacted if I had admitted being the ‘scoundrel’ who kissed you at the ball?”

Sophie buried her face in his shirtfront and clung tightly to the lapels of his coat. After trying unsuccessfully to work his face down closer to the vicinity of hers, he asked her pleadingly, “Please look up at me, Sophie. Don’t you know by now that I’m nutty about you?”

She peeked up at him from beneath thick lashes and allowed the first of two dimples to appear. “Does that mean what I think it does?”

“It does, Sophia
mia
. It is a cant expression for the fact that I am wildly in love with you. Now raise your head higher, please, so I can kiss you.”

This time Sophie responded with full compliance, and the footman in the corridor so far forgot himself as to open his mouth wide and grin.

“There is one more thing I should tell you before your father comes home, darling,” said Tony later, as he brushed his lips gently over Sophie’s tempting cheeks. “And I’ll confess to being the huntsman, too, after we are safely married, so you’ll be convinced of how truthful I can be.”

“Are we going to be married?” murmured Sophie in a blissful daze. “My father will not be pleased.” She found it hard to express much alarm when all her senses were being so artfully aroused.

“He may come around when I let him in on a little secret,” whispered Tony while nibbling her left ear.

“Oh?” mumbled Sophie. And then she started abruptly. “Oh, Tony. It’s not about the Cyprians, is it?” she asked with wide-opened eyes.

“No,” he said, chuckling delightedly. “It’s not about the Cyprians, my love. You may forget all about them. But I will let you in on it if you promise to love me still.”

“Yes?”

Tony drew close again and whispered softly in her ear, “I rather enjoy hunting.”

“You do?” she cried, drawing back to face him indignantly. The Cyprians were clearly not in the same category of deceit. “But you said...”

“I know. That I don’t hunt. And that’s true. I decided long ago that it was too consuming a pastime and that I would not spend my life in one pursuit. But if it will make your father at all reconciled to our match—and you should not mind too much—I could hunt occasionally with him."

Sophie looked at him fearfully.

“I promise,” he said, and she could not doubt his earnestness, “I shall not spend more than a few days a year in the field. We shall be much too busy doing things together in London to go often into Leicestershire.”

Lady Corby opened the parlour door slightly and peeped round the corner of it in time to see Sophie throw her arms about Tony’s neck and kiss him shamelessly. Withdrawing her head immediately, she thought for an instant, and then, deciding she had best leave things as they were, returned to her chair.

“Sophie all right?” asked Sadie anxiously.

“Yes, I think so,” answered her sister-in-law calmly, but she was unable to conceal the little smile that followed her words.

“Humph!” said Sadie, raising one eyebrow, but it was a “humph” of pleasure.

Moments later, as Tony released Sophie with a sound of satisfaction, a carriage was heard pulling up in the street with Sir John’s unmistakable voice roaring his instructions to the postboy. Raising her head in alarm, Sophie felt herself being drawn quickly out of sight of the front door, just an instant before it opened and her father’s steps sounded in the corridor.

“It’s Papa!” she whispered to Tony. “He was not supposed to be back from Mr. Rollo’s for days!”

“Well, let’s hope it’s a bad sign for our friend Rollo,” said Tony, continuing to nuzzle the base of her neck.

“Shouldn’t you speak to him?” she asked, trying to keep from laughing as the outrageousness of Tony’s behaviour occurred to her.

‘‘I will,’’ sighed Tony. ‘‘All in good time. But if I am about to be forbidden the house again—even just until your mother can talk him around—I would rather have something to remember you by.”

Sophie dimpled and said nothing more.

Meanwhile, in the parlour, Sir John’s unexpected return was causing something of a flurry. He plunked himself down in a chair amidst the ladies’ startled exclamations and worried glances, but as he did not appear to be in a violent rage, they had to conclude that something had prevented his view of the stair landing. Breathing slightly easier as this thought came to her, Lady Corby began the questions.

“What happened, Sir John? Why are you here? We did not expect you home before Tuesday.”

Her husband groaned wearily. He wiped his head with a handkerchief and leaned back in his chair as though exhausted with emotion. “I had to come back, Clarissa,” he said. “I have never been so led on in my life.”

“Led on, John?” the ladies prompted.

“Deceived,” he answered heavily. “Never been so deceived in a man’s character.” His voice was weary with the profundity of his sadness.

Lady Corby threw Aunt Sadie a hopeful glance. “In Mr. Rollo, dear?” she asked incredulously.

He nodded. It was easy to see that the mention of his host’s name was almost painful to him.

“Was it his estate?” asked Sadie bluntly. “Remember, I told you I’d heard he was all to pieces,” she reminded him.

“No, not that,” said Sir John, waving it aside impatiently. Then he added more judiciously, “Although I shouldn’t wonder if you were right after all, Sadie. The man is capable of anything.”

Lady Corby’s eyes were dancing with delight, but she tried to keep a sympathetic expression as she said, “Tell us about it, John.”

“All right,” he said, heaving a great sigh. “The first night, everything was fine. Good dinner. Excellent claret. Nothing to complain of in the company or the conversation. It only shows how easily one can be fooled,” he concluded sadly.

Then he went on, reddening with displeasure. “It was yesterday morning when we set out to go fishing that the scoundrel revealed himself.” He fumed silently for a moment.

“Yes, dear?”

Sir John paled as he remembered the moment of revelation. “The villain uses live bait!” he cried. “I tell you, Clarissa and Sadie, the sight unmanned me.”

Lady Corby smothered a disloyal smile, but Aunt Sadie coloured in outrage. “The lousie cur!” she exclaimed sympathetically. “What did you do, John?”

“I hardly knew what to do, Sadie,” he admitted. “The man was my host. But before the day was out, I knew I had to leave. I could hardly eat. And I told the fellow what I thought of him,” he said stoutly. “I could never mount someone like that on one of my horses."

Sadie nodded her approval, but Sir John was still distressed.

“And now, all my efforts are for nothing. I hardly know how to face Sophie with the news. Months wasted kicking our heels here in London and no husband to show for it. She’ll likely be disappointed.”

“But surely, Sir John,” Lady Corby reminded him, “if Mr. Rollo is capable of such unpleasantness, he would not have made a suitable husband for our daughter.”

“No,” he agreed, reluctantly. “I suppose not. But I do not want to spend another day here in Town. She will have to find someone near home.”

“Oh, I think not, dear,” said Lady Corby comfortingly. “I rather think Sir Tony could still be persuaded to marry Sophie. He really is such a nice gentleman.”

“And an excellent whip!” added Sadie helpfully.

They waited anxiously for his response, but to both ladies’ surprise, Sir John did not appear disgruntled by their suggestion. “Do you think so?” he asked pathetically.

They nodded.

“Well, better to make do with what’s there,” he said, accepting the inferior situation philosophically. “I shall have to get to work on him soon, though. Cubbing season’s just around the corner."

He stared at the floor morosely, while his wife and sister exchanged pleased glances. Lady Corby allowed him to ponder for a while before trying to take his mind off his injuries, but presently she thought about their return home.

“Sir John,” she said, “I’ve been thinking.”

“What about, Clarissa?’’ he asked listlessly.

“I should like to take up something when we go back into Leicestershire. The children are getting older now and do not need so much of my attention.”

“Take up something?” he asked, completely puzzled.

“Yes,” she said smiling down at her work with quiet certainty. “Something like bees.”

Copyright © 1989 by Patricia W.B. Ricks

Originally published by Harlequin Regency Romance

Electronically published in 2005 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.