to Dersingham Park and look after my estate. In the meantime, duty calls. Keep your eyes and ears open, Richard. Contrary to the Regent’s belief, I cannot be everywhere at once.’
The two men parted and James strolled back to Belfont House, but strangely it was not his problems at court that occupied his mind, but a pair of lustrous brown eyes. How could anyone be described as plain who had eyes like that?
Chapter Three
Sophie’s arrival at Belfont House with all her belongings the following day did not go as she expected and planned. She had hoped only for a garret room, where she could sit and write, not the sumptuous bedchamber she was given. It was furnished in mahogany and walnut; its thick carpet, in shades of blue, reflected the pattern in the curtains at the windows and those about the large four-poster bed. Adjoining it was a small sitting room. ‘I have had a desk and some shelves brought in,’ Harriet told her when she conducted her there after Lady Myers had been entertained with tea, been bidden goodbye and left, promising to call in a day or two to see how Sophie did. ‘Then you can write if you feel the inspiration. But I do not want you to think that you must do it. Look on it as a pastime when you have nothing better to do.’
‘I do not see it as a pastime, my lady.’
‘No, of course not. How foolish of me. What I meant was that I want you to make this your home. Write if you wish, but I should like it very much if you would accompany me on outings. There is so much going on in London this Season, it is beyond anything the capital has seen before, and it is not much fun if you have no one to share it with. The Duke is too busy.’
‘Is your husband not able to accompany you?’
For a moment her bright smile vanished. ‘He was killed at Oporto in ’09.’
‘Oh, I am so sorry. I did not know…’
‘No reason why you should. It was a comfort to know that James was with him when he died. He stayed abroad until last year when our father died and he became the next Duke. It was a relief to have him safe home again.’
‘I am sure it was,’ Sophie murmured.
‘I have two darling daughters, Beth and Olivia, but I left them at home in Suffolk. I cannot imagine they would find London in summer to their liking. They are more interested in ponies and country walks. When the Season is at an end, you must visit us and meet them.’
‘I should like that very much.’
‘Now, here I am prattling on about myself when what I really want to know is all about you. What was it like to be in Europe when Napoleon was Emperor? Did you ever meet him? Some people here say he was an ogre and others that he was a hero. I cannot find that very patriotic, can you?’
‘No, and I never met him. I saw him in the distance when we were in Paris, and we were in Austria when his son was born and there were tremendous celebrations. But I did meet some other interesting characters. Papa seemed to attract them. He was such an affable man and was always bringing people home for dinner.’ She did not add that it had stretched their housekeeping money to breaking point to entertain them.
‘And is that what is going into your book?’
She had not consciously thought of doing that, but she did know a simple travel book would not interest a publisher; there were dozens of those already. She must make it different, and interesting characters might do that. People lived abroad for many reasons; some, like her father, to escape their creditors; others to get over an unhappy love affair or to run away with someone else’s spouse. Some eloped when parents refused to countenance their marriage and some moved to a warmer climate for the sake of their health. Whatever the reason, there was always a nucleus of expatriates in the major cities of the continent, even during the war. ‘Yes, but I shall have to be very careful not to name names, I do not want to antagonise people. And they will only be part of the descriptions of how we travelled and the interesting places we saw.’
‘It must have been very exciting for a young girl to see so much of the world, almost like a Grand Tour.’
Sophie laughed. ‘It was never like that. And when Mama died—’ She stopped, unable to go on.
‘I feel for you, Sophie. Lady Myers told me a little of it, when we had a few minutes alone together, but you must put all those difficulties behind you now. I am going to enjoy dressing you up and taking you out.’
‘Really, my lady, there is no need…’
‘I want to, and please call me Harriet. Your mama was our cousin and that makes you a cousin too and families should not be formal with one another.’
Sophie laughed suddenly. ‘But when one of them is a duke…’
‘Oh, James is nothing like as top lofty as he pretends. He stands on his dignity to keep the doting mamas and their simpering daughters at bay. Being a bachelor and a duke, he is the target of every ambitious mother of an unmarried daughter.’ She chuckled suddenly. ‘I have told him he will have to marry soon and he ought to be looking for a wife, but he remains stubbornly unwed.’
‘No doubt he is particular. His wife will be a duchess and he must be sure she is up to it.’
‘True.’ She rose and shook out her blue taffeta skirt. ‘Now, I shall leave you to settle in. Dinner is at five and afterwards I have an evening engagement that I cannot cancel, but tomorrow we will go shopping. Shall I send a maid to help you unpack?’
‘No, thank you. I can manage.’
She left and Sophie sat on the bed and regarded her trunk, sitting in the middle of the floor, where the footmen had left it. It was scuffed and scratched, its straps wearing thin, proclaiming her poverty. In it was everything she possessed. She could not bear for a servant to see that. Sighing, she unpacked it, putting the gowns in the wardrobe, her other clothes in a drawer and her writing things on the desk with the miniature of her mother. She had just finished when a maid arrived with hot water and an offer to help her dress and to do her hair. ‘My name is Janet, miss,’ she said. ‘Lady Harley says I am to look after you until a maid can be found for you.’
Dinner would be an ordeal, she knew that. It was not that she did not know how to behave; she had dined with some very aristocratic people when her father was in funds, but this evening she expected the Duke to be present and he would quiz her, or perhaps ignore her; either would be mortifying. She found a spotted muslin that was not too creased, draped a silk shawl that had been her mother’s over her upper arms and followed the maid down to the first-floor drawing room, where she had been received the day before. The Duke and Lady Harley were waiting for dinner to be announced.
‘Miss Langford, good evening.’ He rose politely. ‘I trust you have settled in.’
He was dressed formally in a blue long-tailed coat, an embroidered waistcoat, over which a froth of ruffles tumbled, powder blue silk breeches and white stockings. She noticed how well cut his coat was and how it showed off his broad shoulders and that his fair hair, though in the latest short style, curled over the high collar. He was the most handsome man she had ever met and she could understand his popularity with mothers of marriageable daughters. She wondered why he had not married before now; after all, he had admitted to being four and thirty, long past the age when men in his station of life married and set up their nursery. He would naturally be particular, but surely there were dozens of young ladies with beautiful faces and trim figures who would make elegant duchesses?
This
