Chapter Twenty Two

 

 

 

George and Lavinia and their party arrived at Allerthorpe Hall on the second of May on an unseasonably hot day. Lord Sydney, true to his promise to Hal, had turned over his house to the wedding party and the Wyatts drove Sophie over there to join her family.

The estate was situated four miles from the centre of York in the midst of rolling parkland where it sat in a shallow valley, cut in two by a winding river. The prospect was charming and Sophie managed to keep her mind off the coming reunion with her family by admiring the landscape.

‘The grounds are very fine,’ she commented to John. ‘That would appear to be quite a new temple on that rise over there.’ She pointed a gloved hand at a distant Grecian temple.

‘Yes, Lord Sydney has spent a considerable fortune on improving the house since he inherited it from his uncle,’ Hal cut in. ‘And there he is, waving to us.’

James Sydney, whom she had last glimpsed from beneath her veil at Lady Newnham’s philosophical symposium, proved to be an affable, plump, blond young man. He and Hal seemed chalk and cheese, yet she gathered they had been schoolboy companions and had remained fast friends. She was only thankful that Lord Sydney showed no signs of recognising in her the veiled lady at Dr Eustace’s lecture. Incredibly it was only just over four weeks since she had encountered Hal there, she realised.

‘My dear chap.’ Lord Sydney clapped Hal on the shoulder. ‘Please introduce me this instant to Miss Haydon. I had wondered if you would ever find the right lady, now I can see exactly why you have chosen to end your bachelorhood.’

He bowed low over Sophie’s gloved hand, greeted John, Emma and Elizabeth with a smile and, tucking Sophie’s hand firmly under his arm, escorted her into the house. He was scarcely taller than she was, but his kind face and air of expecting to be pleased at everything he encountered made him seem a much larger personality

‘Your brother and his family should be here in the garden room,’ he explained. ‘It is such an unseasonably lovely day I have ordered the tea table to be set outside on the terrace.’

John was fanning his heated face with his broad clerical hat. ‘Unseasonable is the word, Lord Sydney. I cannot recollect such a hot day so early in the year.’

‘We can only hope it is as lovely as this in eight days’ time for your wedding.’ Emma smiled warmly at Sophie. She had completely thrown herself into the wedding preparations, apparently believing that Sophie’s plan to escape had been merely nerves. ‘And this must be Sir George Haydon, your brother?’

George got to his feet with alacrity and strode forward to greet Sophie with an enthusiasm he had never shown before. ‘My dear sister,’ he cried, crushing her in his arms ‘I had never hoped to see you make such a connection,’ he murmured before he released her, somewhat abruptly, and turned to the Wyatts. ‘Your Grace.’ He bowed. ‘Such a pleasure to meet you. Such an honour! I was only saying to Lady Haydon the other day that we could not imagine our little Sophie receiving such a declaration.’

Hal smiled thinly and shook hands with his future brother-in-law, following Sir George across to be introduced to his wife and the two girls. Lavinia, her sallow looks and thin chest emphasised by a gown of vivid pink silk stripes, her faded blonde curls topped by an over-elaborate cap, simpered up at him. ‘Oh, I am so overcome, Your Grace. Dear Sophie.’ She sent her a look of cloying affection. ‘Such a dear, good girl. So deserving of her good fortune. How I will manage without her – her support, her good influence on my girls – I cannot imagine, but how can I argue with such good fortune?’

To Sophie’s incredulity her sister-in-law produced a scrap of lace and dabbed at her eyes, which appeared to be perfectly dry.

Hal bowed with impeccable correctness over her hand. ‘A sacrifice indeed, ma’am, and I can only thank you for making it.’ Sophie shot him a warning glance, knowing perfectly well that his tongue was very firmly in his cheek. Ignoring her frown, he continued, ‘And you must introduce me to these charming young ladies. But surely they cannot be your daughters? Why, they are quite grown up.’

Charlotte and Grace simpered and giggled and clutched one another’s hands in delight, while their mother looked fit to burst with pride and pleasure.

The sight of Hal making himself pleasant to his future in-laws would have been amusing but for the reminder that her wedding day was getting dangerously close. Not only had she failed to think of any way to escape, but the closer it came, the more people were involved and the more scandalous any disruption would be.

But despite her sinking heart she could not help smiling at the sight of Hal as he handed Lavinia a cup of tea. He was dressed with great care in a tail coat of dark blue superfine and his legs showed that the fashion for tight trousers could be most flattering on the right figure. On George, on the other hand, the effect was ludicrous, especially when it was teamed with a yellow waistcoat.

George and Lavinia had clearly spent lavishly to reflect the elegant society they could now expect to move in. Not only was Lavinia’s gown expensively made and trimmed, but her shawl, her shoes and her reticule were new purchases.

After tea Lavinia swept Sophie upstairs ostensibly to rest, but in reality to grill her thoroughly. Much of the caressing sweetness with which she had greeted her vanished as the chamber door closed behind them.

‘Well, Sophie! What a very lucky girl you are to fall on your feet like this,’ she observed tartly. ‘Now sit down here and tell me exactly what has been going on and where you have been for the last four weeks.’

Sophie, who had been braced for this, sat as directed and fixed her gaze modestly on her clasped hands. Lavinia’s manner might be objectionable, but she had every right to demand to know where her sister-in-law had vanished to. ‘I found myself in a position to assist Lady Elizabeth when she found herself at the mercy of an unscrupulous young gentleman.’

‘Indeed?’ Lavinia asked suspiciously. ‘And how did you come to be acquainted with Lady Elizabeth? She is not part of our circle.’

‘I had not met her before, but I had met the Duke.’

‘Where, pray?’

‘You remember you gave me permission to attend Mrs Lovell’s Literary Circle? She is a cousin of the Duke and he arrived later in the evening.’

‘I gave you permission to attend a Literary Circle, not to go off flirting with gentlemen and disappearing without trace. We know where that leads, do we not?’

Sophie had had enough. ‘In this case,’ she retorted equally tartly, ‘it has led to an exceptionally good marriage, has it not, Lavinia?’

‘On this occasion there has been a happy outcome,’ Lavinia conceded huffily. Then her eyes sharpened again at the new hint of scandal. ‘But what is this you say about Lady Elizabeth?’'

‘She was totally innocent and much deceived in the young man concerned and the Duke and his family brought her off safe at the end,’ Sophie said firmly. ‘They will not tolerate any mention of the matter. I am sure you would not want to displease the family, Lavinia, by so much as hinting to any of your acquaintance that there has been anything untoward. They can do so much for the girls, after all.’

Lavinia might be insensitive, but she knew when enough was enough. ‘Very well, just so long as you know what a very fortunate young woman you are.’

‘Oh, yes, I do know,’ Sophie said dreamily, achieving a modest simper that was quite suggestive enough to elicit an answering, deep flush of embarrassment from the older woman.

Lavinia got to her feet with a show of busyness. ‘We will meet again at dinner. I will send Fanny to you and she can unpack your wardrobe. Your brother has been most generous. In addition to the bank draft he sent for your trousseau he also asked me to purchase replenishments for your wardrobe. There is a fine gown for this evening: make sure Fanny dresses your hair fetchingly.’ She looked at her as if for the first time. ‘By the by, Sophie, what has happened to your hair?’

‘I cut it.’

‘I can see that! Why?’

Sophie smiled enigmatically. ‘You really do not want to know, Lavinia,’ she said calmly.

Lavinia flushed at the snub and marched out, closing the door with emphasis.

Sophie laughed out loud and was still smiling when Fanny Meadows came in. ‘Oh, Miss Sophie! How lovely to see you, I was so worried about you. And so happy, too. What a fine gentleman your Duke is.’

Sophie hugged her maid tightly, tears suddenly flooding her eyes. ‘Oh, Fanny, it is all such a dreadful mess.’

 

An hour later, as the clock chimed six, Fanny stared back at her mistress with a puzzled frown. ‘But I don’t understand, Miss Sophie. Why are you unhappy? It was all very shocking, I can see that, but so romantic. And he wants to marry you, otherwise he wouldn't have asked you.’

‘He is only marrying me because he has compromised me and his honour demands it. But it is not enough, I want more than that, Fanny, and he deserves more. I suppose I would be considered just about eligible if this were a love match, but as it is not he could do much better. And I am so afraid that in a few months he will come to regret his gallantry and tire of me.’ Sophie got to her feet and went to the window to gaze out over the tranquil park to the lake. It was idyllic and peaceful, a complete contrast to her turbulent emotions. ‘His family are very kind, but they know of my past, and they cannot approve of the match.’

‘You say this is not a love match, but, Miss Sophie, you love him, do you not?’

Sophie turned to her, aghast. ‘Oh, no, Fanny, I am not so transparent, am I? Surely it is not evident to everyone how I feel?’

‘I know you so well, miss, of course I can tell. Others, not knowing you better, will not see it. After all, you would be expected to look happy.’

‘But I am not happy,’ Sophie burst out. ‘Oh, Fanny, you have got to help me escape. I cannot go through with this and have him come to resent me.’

Fanny gazed at Sophie with her mouth open. ‘Run away before your wedding day, Miss Sophie? Beg your pardon, miss, but have you taken leave of your senses? You would never have a place in Society again, you could never marry. The scandal would be awful.’

‘It would be less scandalous than a divorce,’ Sophie said grimly.

Fanny plumped down on the end of the bed and burst into tears. ‘Oh, Miss Sophie. You can't do this. We can’t do this!’

Sophie knelt down beside the distraught maid and took her hands between her own. ‘Do not cry, Fanny, it will all come right in the end, you’ll see. George will be furious, of course, and quite cast me off, but he will have to give me my inheritance, or at least enough of it to be an independence. He will not want me in his household, so I can find a house of my own, and you will come and live with me.’

Fanny mopped her brimming eyes and sniffed. ‘Oh, miss, if you say so, of course I’ll help you. But I'm not happy, and I think you’re doing the wrong thing. He seems a lovely gentleman. Don’t cast away this opportunity to be happy.’

Sophie got to her feet ignoring Fanny’s pleas. Now that she had her maid to help her, it all became very clear. ‘Tomorrow you will go into York. I am sure Lord Sydney will place one of his grooms and a gig at my disposal if I tell him my maid needs to do some shopping for me. There you will go to a livery stables and enquire about hiring a chaise and four and postilions. Tell them that you will need the carriage at very short notice as your mistress may be summoned at any time to return to Hertfordshire.’

She paced about the room, waving her hand in the air as she sought for inspiration. ‘Say I have a sick relative and I will need to be there with all dispatch.’

Fanny blew her nose and got to her feet, a look of disapproval on her homely features. ‘That's as may be, miss, and I can do that, but how are we going to pay for it? It’ll be more than a shilling a mile for each horse.’

Sophie was momentarily taken aback. There was the money Emma had lent her for the Mail but it was nowhere near enough after what she had wasted on the unused ticket. The money George had given her was all in bank drafts and she could hardly ask Hal or her brother to change such a large amount for her in advance of the bills she would incur for her bride clothes.

She paced restlessly. ‘I have enough to start the journey and they will not expect to be paid off until we reach my final destination. When we get to Hertfordshire George’s steward, Mr Gold, will pay. That is settled then, Fanny. I will speak to Lord Sydney about the gig for you in the morning.’

Fanny, clearly far from reconciled to the scheme, began to lay out Sophie’s evening clothes, muttering darkly under her breath as she did so.

 

Lord Sydney placed Sophie on his right hand at dinner that nigh which was the opportunity she needed.

‘Might I ask a favour of you, Lord Sydney?’

‘Of course. In what way may I serve you?’

‘I do hope it is not an imposition, but now that I have been joined by my own maid I would like to send her into York on a number of errands for me.’

He understood at once. ‘And you would like me to furnish her with a gig and one of the grooms to drive her? But of course, that will be no trouble at all. I will instruct the stables that she should have whatever she needs, whenever she needs it.’ His amiable face crinkled into a smile. ‘I am certain you will have many commissions for her over the next few days.’

When the ladies rose to leave the gentlemen to their port Hal touched her hand as she passed him. ‘Are you flirting with my friend Sydney?’ he whispered huskily. ‘I warn you, I can be very jealous.’ She met his eyes and they were warm with promise and desire and she shivered with an answering need: the sooner she escaped the better, while her resolve was firm.

 

At half past two that morning she was still lying awake, tossing and turning, making lists in her head of every detail of her escape. What should she pack? How much luggage must she take to convince landlords along the road that she was a respectable traveller? How could she put Hal off the scent? Surely he would not guess that she had the means to hire a chaise?

Restlessly Sophie threw back the bedclothes and padded bare-foot to the window, pulling back the drapes to look out over the moonlit park.

It was still warm and the scent of the garden below her window drifted in soothingly. But all this planning would be to no avail if she could not get out of the house. An owl drifting across the lawn made her start. This would never do, she would need more steadiness of nerve than this to carry off her escape.

Now, there would surely be a night porter... Would the front door be locked and bolted, or simply bolted from within? And if she pulled the bolts, would it be noticed and the alarm given? She could not leave this until the night of her escape, she must reconnoitre.

Sophie pulled on her peignoir, leaving her feet bare, and opened her door gently. All was quiet, except for the rattle of George’s snores from further along the corridor. Lamps turned low were burning at intervals and she was able to creep down the main stairs and into the hall without difficulty.

The night porter’s hooded chair by the front door was empty, but a plate with the heel of a loaf and a tankard stood beside it, so he would doubtless be doing his rounds. The door itself was massive with heavy bars, which would be noticed immediately were they to be drawn back: there was no escape that way. But the long windows in the Salon faced the back of the house and she could open one and then close it from the outside.

Sophie was congratulating herself on this thought as she made her way silently along the corridor towards the Salon when the runner in front of her was suddenly illuminated by a shaft of light as the library door opened wide.

She stopped, casting round wildly for a hiding place, but it was too late. Hal stepped out and saw her immediately. He was wearing his dressing gown, his feet bare, his hair tousled. In one hand he held a leather-bound book, in the other, a candlestick.

‘What the hell do you think you are doing, Sophie?’ he demanded, his eyes sharp.

‘I could not sleep, I thought it might help if I came for a book.’

‘Indeed?’ He did not seem convinced. ‘I too could not sleep, but I doubt if reading is going to help.’ He put both book and candle down on a side table and took a step towards her. ‘You really should not be wandering around strange houses by yourself at this hour, Sophie.’

Her throat was tight, but she managed to say, ‘Why not?’

‘You might encounter all sorts of dangers,’ he said, taking her in his arms and kissing her with a hard desire that left her in no doubt of his need for her.

His chin was slightly rough with stubble, she was aware of his body close to hers through the thin silk of her nightclothes and as she raised her hands to run her fingers through his hair it felt alive under her touch. He seemed very hot as her hand trailed down from his nape to his chest, bare where the neck of his nightshirt was open. Sophie flattened her palm and let it move over the hard muscle of his chest and he groaned.

Hal released her mouth and dropped his lips to the angle where her neck sloped into her shoulders. His tongue tasted its way down the swell of her breast until it met the edge of the muslin peignoir. He nuzzled impatiently at the barrier and Sophie arched against him, gasping with the sensation as he reached her aroused nipple.

What might have happened next she had no idea, but the sound of footsteps on the marble hall floor brought them both back to their senses. Hal seized her wrist, snatched up the candle and bundled her into the library, closing the door behind him.

They stood, their breath loud in the silence, as the night porter paced by outside. When Hal spoke his voice was very unsteady. ‘Well, Sophie, are you going to tell me the real reason you were creeping around down here in the small hours?’