Three Original Ladies 02 - Lord Trowbridge’s Angel
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Acknowledgments
Cast of Characters
Wordsworth
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Other Books
About the Author
Lord Trowbridge’s Angel
A Regency Romance
G.G. Vandagriff
Copyright © 2013 by G.G. Vandagriff.
Cover design Copyright © 2013 by David P. Vandagriff. Cover portrait: Grand Duchess Elena Pavlovna by Josef Grassie, 1802
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, contact the publisher through its website, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator.”
Orson Whitney Press
Provo, Utah 84604
http://www.orsonwhitneypress.com/
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Book Layout ©2013 BookDesignTemplates.com
Ordering Information:
Quantity sales. Special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, and others. For details, contact the “Special Sales Department” at the website above.
Lord Trowbridge’s Angel/ G.G. Vandagriff. — 1st ed.
ISBN 978-0-9836232-6-7
Acknowledgments
My excellent editor, Susan Helene Gottfried, gives me help all along the way, especially when I am discouraged. And then she does a terrific edit at the end. Thanks, Susan!
I’d also like to thank my beta readers: Linda Fife, Anna Stone, and Tadiana Jones.
Thanks also to David, my husband for his very tangible help all along the chain of book production.
Cast of Characters
The Edwards Family:
Miss Sophie Edwards: A young lady of Quality
Lady Fanny (aka Rosalind) Edwards Kernow-Smith, Marchioness of Deal: Sophie’s sister
Lord Buckingham (Buck) Kernow-Smith, Marquis of Deal: Sophie’s brother-in-law
Lady Elise Edwards Northcott, Duchess of Ruisdell: Sophie’s sister
Lord Peter Northcott, Duke of Ruisdell: Sophie’s brother-in-law
Other Players:
Lord Francis (Frank) St. Oswald, Viscount Trowbridge: heir to the Marquis of Deal
Lady Melissa Aldridge: Sophie’s best friend
Lord and Lady Kent: Lady Melissa’s parents
Lord Donald Aldridge: Lady Melissa’s brother
Lord Shrewsbury: Frank’s best friend
Bella and Joseph Carstairs: Friends of Frank’s, musicians
Lady Lila Manwaring: Frank’s former mistress
Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting
The soul that rises with us, our life’s star,
Hath had elsewhere its setting,
And cometh from afar:
Not in entire forgetfulness,
And not in utter nakedness,
But trailing clouds of glory do we come
From God who is our home.
William Wordsworth
Ode: Intimations of Immortality
{ 1 }
NO DOUBT, IT WAS IMPROPER to describe the man who stood in Sophie’s sister’s drawing room as tall, dark, and beautiful. But to her, he was. And this beautiful man had agreed to be her escort this evening. Drawing a long breath to steady herself, she moved into the room and stopped again. She chided herself for a sudden rush of nerves. Partnering him to a ball could not be any more intimidating than mastering a Beethoven violin concerto!
Although surrounded by all the ornate French and Italian furniture her sister had shipped home during her honeymoon, he failed to be dwarfed by it. In fact, he was speaking to her brother-in-law, Buck, the Marquis of Deal as a man who knew how to be the dominating force in any conversation. From where Sophie stood staring, she could not catch the words they spoke, but the gorgeous man’s laughter sounded full and rich, making his face crinkle up until his eyes almost disappeared. He also had two shy dimples. No doubt feeling her eyes upon him, her evening’s escort turned his head and saw her.
The laughter faded away, as though a curtain had been drawn over his features. He stared back, his eyes piercingly blue.
Sophie summoned the only smile she could, aware that it was slight. Walking toward them, she was more than ever conscious of her limp. She tried to glide as her sister Elise would have done. Then, with renewed firmness of mind, she told herself that she was not Elise, she was not her sister Fanny. She was Sophie. And Sophie was adequate.
Buck spotted her, and his face creased in a smile. “Sophie! My dear, you look splendid. Your gown suits you to a cow’s thumb.”
“Thank you, Buck,” she said, managing a broader smile this time. She had been unsure of the gown, one of Fanny’s, since she had not had time to have one made up. A breath of leaf green sarcenet over a silver satin underskirt, it was cut expertly so that the Empire waist sat just right over her slight hips, as rightly as it had fit Fanny, even though their builds differed. The sleeves were tiny puffs, the scalloped bodice modest and overlaid with silver lace. The only trim, a wide silver ribbon, ran under her bosom, tied in a bow, and fell to the scalloped hem. Sophie’s light brown hair and light green eyes were so different from Fanny’s vibrant looks, she had despaired of finding a gown that would do her more subdued appearance justice until she had found this shimmering creation.
Buck turned to the man at his side. “Frank, allow me to introduce the enchanting Miss Sophie Edwards, my wife’s sister. Sophie, this fribble is my present heir, Francis St. Oswald, Viscount Trowbridge.”
The viscount made a formal leg, and Sophie curtseyed.
“Delighted to meet you, Miss Edwards,” he said solemnly.
“I have heard much of you, my lord,” Sophie replied. “And all of it good, surprisingly.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And why should that surprise you?”
“Buck does not really think you a fribble, you know.”
“But I have never gone to sea.” He gestured wildly with his hands. “I have not been tested in battle. I have not seen the world beyond the Continent. So I am not only undereducated, but lazy. A proper gentleman of the ton.”
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“I shall not hold it against you,” Sophie said, grinning. “You must know that Buck thinks going to sea is the only proper education.”
“Thank you. I understand that tonight will be your first ball,” Lord Trowbridge said. He smiled, his eyes crinkling again, and her heart was warmed. The anxiety she had not quite kept in check began to melt.
“Yes. I have lived retired in the country, though my sisters have been urging me to London. My dearest friend from Shropshire, Lady Melissa Aldridge, insisted that I attend her come-out ball. So here I am. May I say that it is very good of you to allow me your escort, my lord?”
“And may I say I shall be the envy of every young buck in attendance?”
“Frank! How delightful to see you!” Fanny made her entrance, rushing in, her skirts rustling. She offered her hand to Frank with an actress’s flair. He kissed it. “Sophie, how charming you do look, my dear. I am sorry to be late coming down. Alexa did not want me to leave her. Even at two months, she still does not want to be separated from Mummy.”
“Motherhood certainly becomes you, my lady,” Lord Trowbridge said with a short bow. “Why did you not tell me you were hiding such a lovely sister in the country?”
“Thank you, Frank. As to Sophie, we had little hope that we could tempt her to London. My escapades, to say nothing of my sister Elise’s, were a bit daunting. She was happy with her music as company.” She put her arm about Sophie’s waist. “Sophie is a serious violinist, you know. It is past time she brought her talents to London. We shall undoubtedly schedule a musicale soon.”
Lifting his eyebrow again, Lord Trowbridge said, “A violinist. Accomplished as well as lovely.”
Sophie smiled at him. “You flatter me, my lord.”
Perkins, her sister’s reed-thin butler, entered with the announcement of dinner, and the small party moved to the dining room.
~~*
As Sophie crossed the threshold of the Aldridge’s ballroom, she was very glad of the viscount’s arm. As her first foray into the ton society, the ball threatened to be an overwhelming experience. She had never been in such a crowd. The brilliant colors of the gowns combined with the movement of the dance and the shrill chatter to disorient her. She stiffened her spine and drew a long breath.
Lord Trowbridge leaned down and asked in a low voice, “Is this a bit much for you?”
She gave him a smile. “I will do very well. Particularly once I have seen Melissa.”
At that moment, Melissa sighted her, her face lighting up. Sophie’s strange surroundings seemed to fall away, as delight suffused her.
“My dear friend!” Melissa said, kissing Sophie’s cheek and taking both her hands in hers. “I had nearly given up hope! It is quite beyond anything to see you. And who is your cavalier?” She looked at Frank with the saucy lift of an eyebrow.
Sophie’s nerves settled with her friend’s familiar presence. She put her arm through Frank’s, saying, “Francis St. Oswald, Viscount Trowbridge, I’d like you to meet my dearest friend, Lady Melissa Aldridge and her parents, Lord and Lady Kent.”
Trowbridge bowed over the ladies’ hands. “My lady, it appears to be a crush. Congratulations.” He gave Melissa’s mother a short bow.
Shaking hands with Lord Kent, he said, “And good evening to you, my lord. I did not realize Sophie’s dearest friend was your daughter. We have met in the House. I stand with you solidly on the issue of the Corn Laws. Your addresses have been stirring.” He turned to Melissa. “I am certain that your come-out will be a sterling success, Lady Melissa. I’d like to thank you for bringing the lovely Miss Edwards out of seclusion.”
Melissa dimpled. “She knew there would be serious consequences were she not to come.”
Lord Kent detained them for a moment. “I am grateful for your support, Trowbridge. My stance is not a popular one.”
“No, but so important if we wish the poor to have the means to feed themselves.”
Sophie’s escort bowed once more to the smiling earl, and Frank and Sophie moved away. He whispered into Sophie’s ear, “Lord Kent is a skilled orator, and very much the on dit in parliamentary circles. His position on the Corn Laws is an unusual one, even for a Whig.”
“Yes, I have actually followed his speeches. He is in favor of their repeal, is he not?”
“Right. Are you interested in the political scene?”
“In anything to do with Lord Kent, yes. His success in Parliament is known even to me. Before I moved from Shropshire to my eldest sister, Elise’s, home in Derbyshire, Melissa used to disappear for the whole Season while Parliament was in session. It was a terrible wrench for both of us. We were very close.”
“How long have you lived in Derbyshire?” he asked as they moved into the thick of the company. Sophie prayed that Buck had warned him that she could not dance.
“Four years. Shropshire is lovely, of course, but Derbyshire has its own charm. Plus, it contains my dear niece and nephew.”
“But now you have a niece in London,” the viscount said, studying her face. “I hope that means you will stay here, at least for the remainder of the Season.”
Was he serious or merely flirting? They really had nothing in common. Buck had told her that Trowbridge was a renowned Corinthian. He certainly had the physique of a sportsman—height, broad shoulders, muscular arms, and legs displayed to advantage by his tightly fit evening clothes.
But his face! Why does it seem so familiar to me?
In repose, it was quite forbidding, with his black, black hair and eyebrows, his aquiline nose, high cheekbones, and square jaw and chin. But in good cheer, it was quite transformed.
She fanned herself. “That has yet to be decided, my lord. I am certain you know Buck and Fanny are not enamored of London. I imagine they will return to Deal shortly.”
“Surely you could stay with Lady Melissa?”
“Are you really so anxious for me to stay in London, then? We have scarcely conversed, my lord!”
Smiling, he brought his head down nearer to her face and whispered, “Has no one ever told you that you have the face of an angel?”
Sophie looked directly into his eyes. “You are very extravagant with your compliments, my lord. I do not know what to say, except that I am no angel.”
Trowbridge raised her chin with his fingers. “I dare you to tell me your vices.”
Looking into the cobalt eyes above her, she consulted her conscience. “I do not suffer fools. I lack patience in general, as a matter of fact. I’m afraid my manner is too abrupt for society. For instance, my lord, I must say I really do not think you should judge by appearances. People with angelic faces can be quite horrid on the inside.” She reminded herself of this fact as she studied his perfectly drawn eyebrows.
At that moment, they were rejoined by Lady Melissa. “Oh, my dearest Sophie! I do so long to have a comfortable coze. You must come for tea tomorrow afternoon. Have you been long in Town?”
“I arrived two days ago. I should be happy to come for tea tomorrow.”
Sophie’s friend turned her attention to Lord Trowbridge. “My lord, how is it you know my friend?”
“I am her brother-in-law’s heir. At least, until he has male offspring,” the viscount said. “He thought we would suit. We met only this evening, and already Miss Edwards tries to deceive me. She insists she is no angel. What say you?”
Lady Melissa giggled. “An angel? Sophie? She is a very good girl to be sure, my lord. But not an angel by any account!”
“Oh, I am undone,” exclaimed Sophie, holding the back of her hand to her forehead. “All is lost.”
“I will consider her angelic until I have evidence to the contrary,” Lord Trowbridge insisted.
An extraordinary individual chose that moment to present himself to Lady Melissa. His jacket was turquoise over a yellow-and-turquoise-striped waistcoat, with turquoise breeches. He wore a gardenia in his buttonhole. Sophie had never imagined the like.
“Lady Melitha, may I have the hono
r of thith danth?”
“Certainly, my lord.” She turned her face away for a moment to grimace at Sophie, then proceeded onto the dance floor. Sophie watched in amazement.
“Surely that man is out of the common way!” she said.
“He is what we refer to as a tulip of the ton. A dandy. A fop.”
“And the lisp?”
“Part of the act. Now, I understand you do not dance. Do you play cards? Or would you like some refreshment? It was rumored at Brook’s that the Aldridges meant to have ices.”
“Actually, Fanny, who is an ace, has taught me piquet. Now I am eager to try my wings, although I believe piquet can hardly be considered an angelic pastime.”
“It depends upon the angel in question. I believe Lady Kent has set the card room up just there.”
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MISS EDWARDS WAS NO LESS than a Pocket Venus, her lameness notwithstanding. She also had a lilt to her voice that was fresh and altogether entrancing. Frank could not keep his eyes from her face. He saw her tongue slip out just the tiniest bit at the corner of her mouth as she contemplated her next move. Not only did the young lady look delicious, she played her cards well. The angel was excessively serious about the matter.