Courting Miss Vallois Read online

Page 12


  ‘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 disappointment 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.

  But it was not within his power. The damage was done and he had no idea how to undo it. He had started a hundred letters…and thrown them all away. He had stood in the silence of his room and rehearsed the words of his apology. And every one of them had rung hollow and meaningless—

  ‘Mr Silverton.’

  And then, she was there, standing before him in yet another new gown—this one sweeping over the curves of her body and revealing just enough of the seductive roundness beneath to stir a man’s blood. Her white-blond hair was caught up with a sprig of tiny white roses, and she looked, Robert thought sadly, like spring come to life. A virgin goddess sent to tempt and distract. And she did both…exquisitely. ‘Miss Vallois,’ he said, fearing the huskiness in his voice would betray him. ‘I trust you are well?’

  ‘Tolerably well. You?’

  ‘Tolerably well.’

  A moment passed, and, as if realising that was the extent of his conversation, Sophie turned to greet his sister. ‘Good evening, Jane. Lavinia and I were sorry not to see you at the musicale this afternoon. The young woman Lady Staynwell engaged to perform was very good. Miss Roundtree, I believe her name was.’

  ‘Yes, I was sorry not to be there,’ Jane said, appearing somewhat distracted. ‘I understand her mother taught her to play the pianoforte at a very young age. My goodness, it is warm, is it not?’ She opened her fan and fluttered it vigorously in front of her face.

  Robert, who was actually finding it cooler than usual, said, ‘I could fetch a glass of punch—’

  ‘Yes, punch would be excellent,’ Jane said. ‘But do stay here and talk to Miss Vallois. I am perfectly capable of fetching it myself.’ Which she did—walking away with a degree of alacrity that both surprised and concerned Robert.

  ‘Jane must be very thirsty indeed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her move so fast.’ He turned to the lady standing beside him. ‘Would you also care for some refreshment, Miss Vallois?’

  ‘Thank you, no.’

  The silence lengthened…and became awkward. Robert desperately tried to appear at ease, but as the memory of what happened returned in full force he knew he had to say something. ‘Miss Vallois, there is something I must say—’

  ‘No! It is I who must begin.’ She paused, catching her lower lip between dainty white teeth. ‘I’ve not been able to stop thinking about…what passed between us earlier in the week. I feel terrible for having caused you such distress and I owe you an apology.’

  ‘You owe me nothing,’ Robert ground out. ‘You were right to speak to me as you did.’

  ‘Not given what happened—’

  ‘You had no knowledge of what happened and I went at you like a bull at a gate,’ he said, feeling the tightness of guilt at the back of his throat. ‘That was wrong, and unkind. I saw how it made you feel.’

  ‘It shocked me for the terrible things that had happened to you,’ Sophie said urgently. ‘It made me see why your feelings towards the French are what they are. And it helped me to understand that your feelings towards my brother, and perhaps, myself, are not so much personal as they are…instinctual.’

  ‘Miss Vallois—’

  ‘No, please let me finish. You owe me no apology or explanation, Mr Silverton. Because it all makes sense now. Any reminder of the French, no matter how small, will always bring to mind that which you wish most dearly to forget. It was selfishness on my part that caused me to demand a justification for your reaction towards me, and I deeply regret that.’

  He couldn’t speak. She was apologising to him when it was he who should have been begging her forgiveness. Making excuses for herself when there were no excuses to be made, and tearing herself apart into the bargain. ‘You were entirely within your rights to challenge me about my feelings towards the French,’ Robert said huskily. ‘I was allowing my hatred for one man to colour my opinion of everyone else, and in doing so, I demonstrated not only a blatant disregard for the truth, but a shocking narrowness of mind. It would be like you saying that all Englishmen wear green because you happened to meet one Englishman who did. But every person must be judged on his or her own merit, and even a condemned man must have his hearing. I can forgive someone for disliking a man if they know he has done wrong, but not before.’ He was relieved to see her smile. More than relieved. Hopeful. ‘And now that we have cleared the air and offered apologies that are not required, do you think we might start again…as friends?’

  Her expression lightened, the darkness leaving her eyes. Did she feel as relieved as he did? Did the stars suddenly seem a little closer than they’d been a moment ago? ‘I do hope so, Mr Silverton. In fact, I should like that above all.’

  ‘Then perhaps, if you are not engaged for the next dance, I might claim the honour?’

  ‘You may, though I should warn you, I am not the best of dancers. My employer taught me how to speak, but she did not think it necessary that I knew how to dance.’

  ‘I don’t care.’ He looked down at her, wanting to trace the line of her jaw with his fingers, to stroke the sensual curve of her throat. ‘I just want to dance with you. And perhaps to talk and to make you laugh. Is that asking too much?’

  She shook her head. ‘Not at all. I should like to dance, and to talk, and to laugh.’

  And when the quadrille came to an end and the minuet began, that was exactly what they did.

  Lavinia stood with a group of ladies by a cluster of ferns and tried to pretend an interest in what they were saying. In truth, she was far more interested in what was going on elsewhere in the room. She had watched Sophie cross the floor to talk to Robert and Jane, and then a few minutes later, saw Jane leave and Robert and Sophie take up what looked to be a far more serious conversation. But it wasn’t until they laughed, and Lavinia saw the expression on Robert’s face, that she realised what was happening.

  ‘Good evening, Lady Longworth,’ a smooth voice said beside her.

  Danger. Lavinia sensed it immediately, recognised it for what it was, and with the composure of a duchess, turned to face her adversary. ‘Mr Oberon. Is it not a pleasant evening?’

  ‘It is an exceedingly pleasant evening and the company equally delightful.’ Oberon held the stem of his champagne glass between long slender fingers. ‘But how careless of Lord Longworth to leave you all alone.’

  ‘Ah, but I am not alone. I am surrounded by friends and now have you to keep me company.’

  ‘Which I am most happy to do.’ He raised the flute to his lips, but his eyes were on the floor. ‘I had hoped to find Miss Vallois with you, but I see she is engaged with our friend, Silverton.’

  ‘Yes. She thinks very highly of Jane and is often in her company.’

  ‘Yet, Jane is not with them.’

  Years of rigidly instilled training allowed Lavinia to open her fan with no visible sign of concern. ‘She was a moment ago, but left to secure refreshments.’

  ‘And found Mr Vallois instead.’ Oberon’s mouth lifted, little more than a grimace. ‘It would appear both the Silvertons are very much taken with your guests, Lady Longworth.’

  ‘Why would they not be? Sophie and Antoine are both likeable young people. You must have discovered that during the time you spent with Sophie the other afternoon.’

  ‘I did, and as a result, it is my sincere desire to spend more time with her. But frankly, I am surprised to see Silverton looking so engaged. His dislike of the French is well known to both of us, I think.’

  Hearing an edge to Oberon’s voice, Lavinia sensed the need to tread carefully. ‘Mr Silverton is, first and foremost, a gentleman. He would never allow his personal feelings to affect his conduct towards a lady.’

  ‘And yet that is precisely what h
e did, and in doing so he upset Miss Vallois greatly. She spoke of it to me during our drive.’

  ‘Did she? I am surprised. Sophie usually keeps her own counsel.’

  ‘Do not condemn her for it, Lady Longworth. It was obvious to me she was in distress and when I enquired as to the nature, she told me. So now to see them conversing so amiably, I must confess to some surprise. I had believed Silverton firmly established in his intention to keep her at a distance. And given his current standing in society, I am surprised you would approve of their association.’

  Lavinia slowly plied her fan, careful to remain impassive. ‘I am aware of society’s views with regard to Mr Silverton, but he has chosen to keep his own counsel and I respect him for that. Furthermore, if he spoke out of turn to Sophie, he would naturally be regretful of it and I am sure he is attempting to make amends, even now.’

  ‘And succeeding, by all appearances.’ Oberon raised his glass and finished the last of his champagne. ‘However, it is of little concern. No doubt you and Lord Longworth are anxious to see Miss Vallois settled in the most advantageous manner possible.’

  Lavinia waved at an acquaintance across the floor. ‘My husband and I are more concerned that she is happy, Mr Oberon.’

  ‘Of course, but surely you agree that the suitability of a husband must be a factor in the final decision. Love is all very well, but it is nothing compared to the benefits that wealth and position can bestow. Benefits someone like myself, for example, would be in a position to confer.’

  It took every ounce of acting skill Lavinia possessed to appear calm in light of his admission. ‘You, Mr Oberon?’

  ‘Surely you are not surprised by my interest. I have taken no pains to conceal my admiration of Miss Vallois.’

  ‘But you have spent so little time in her company.’