bringing to mind the picture of Sophie Langford drifting down his staircase like a woodland nymph. Good heavens! He was becoming sentimental. He smiled wryly, more himself. ‘Good evening.’
‘Good evening, your Grace.’ He was dressed in an evening suit of black superfine with velvet facings, a white figured-brocade waistcoat, and an intricately tied white cravat in which nestled a glittering diamond pin. She wondered where he was going; wherever it was, it was not to be as formal an occasion as the evening before when, according to Harriet, he had attended the Regent’s reception.
Her question was answered almost immediately by Harriet who had followed her down the stairs, mature in dove grey taffeta with blue lace trimmings. ‘There you both are! Is the carriage outside?’
‘It is,’ he answered. ‘And has been these last ten minutes.’
‘Good,’ she replied, ignoring his slight tone of impatience. ‘Sophie, James has been so good as to escort us this evening, is that not wonderful?’
Sophie was taken aback. All her self-confidence evaporated at the thought that she would have to be on her very best behaviour. Instead of being able to blend into the background unnoticed, she would be the focus of attention simply because he was escorting her. No wonder he had looked so critically at her; he had been sizing her up to see if he cared to be seen with her in public. She supposed she had passed muster because he had made no comment either complimentary or otherwise. He was looking at her now, evidently expecting her to reply. ‘I am honoured, your Grace,’ she said.
‘It is my pleasure,’ he said, smiling easily now and sounding as if he might mean it. ‘Shall we go?’ He offered both arms and the ladies took one each. The footman sprang to open the door and they went down the three steps to where the carriage waited.
‘Lady Carstairs is a very good friend of mine,’ Harriet explained as they rode. ‘She is also known for a society hostess of the first water. If you are invited to one of her soirées, then you know you will be accepted by the ton and more invitations will follow.’
‘Has she invited me?’ Sophie asked, meaning, had she been foisted on Lady Carstairs by Harriet; it would be difficult to refuse the sister of the Duke of Belfont.
‘Naturally she has. As soon as I told her about you, she wanted to meet you.’
According to Harriet, the party was not to be a large one and she would soon get to know everyone, but when they were ushered into her ladyship’s salon, she found herself wondering what a large party might be like. The room was packed to suffocation, everyone talking and laughing at once; the clamour was unbelievable until the stentorian tones of the footman announced, ‘His Grace, the Duke of Belfont, Lady Harley, Miss Langford.’ The silence that followed was just as overwhelming as the noise had been as everyone stopped in mid-sentence to turn and look towards the entrance where the Duke stood, surveying the scene, his hand lightly under Sophie’s elbow.
He exerted no particular pressure, but she could feel the warmth of his hand through the thin material of her sleeve and was grateful for it; such a light touch and yet so reassuring. He guided her into the room, followed by Harriet, and slowly the broken conversations were resumed, as Lady Carstairs came forward to greet them, her old-fashioned wide skirts billowing around her, a smile of gratification on her face.
‘Your Grace, you honour us. I had no idea—’ She stopped, suddenly aware of Sophie.
‘My lady, may I present my cousin, Miss Langford,’ he said.
‘Miss Langford, I am pleased to meet you. Lady Harley tells me you have recently come home from a protracted stay abroad.’
‘Yes, we could not come home because of the war,’ Sophie answered.
‘And now you are alone in the world.’
‘Not at all,’ James put in before she could answer. ‘Miss Langford has returned to live with her family.’
‘Of course.’ Aware of the set-down, she turned to Sophie. ‘One day you must tell us all about your adventures. But now, do enjoy this evening. We plan to have a little music on the pianoforte and a string quartet is to play for us. Later there will be a few country dances for the young people.’ She paused and addressed the Duke. ‘You will stay for those, will you not? I am sure your cousin will enjoy a measure or two.’
He looked about him. There were dozens of young ladies whose mamas were giving them nudges and whispering. It was always the same whenever he appeared at a gathering like this, which was why he tried to avoid them. He could not, for the life of him, think why he had decided to come tonight. The sooner he escaped, the better. On the other hand, having offered to escort Sophie and his sister, he could hardly drag them away too soon. He bowed an acknowledgement.
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