Page 40 of Pride of Honor
Sophie let out the breath she’d been holding, relaxed a little, and smiled. Sir Thomas was a man who enjoyed life and made the most of every moment. She admired his confidence and appreciated the many kindnesses he’d shown her since the Howick ball the week before. Once she got over her fear of the height of the seat, she began to enjoy the way he handled his horses with an even, light touch, threading his way easily through the traffic-clogged streets on the way to Hanover Square to visit Arnaud’s mother.
When Sir Thomas had called the day before, she’d confided in him how much she missed the little dog she’d saved in Hyde Park. He’d insisted he would escort her to call on Mrs. Bellingham, who it turned out, was one of his good friends. He was a supporter of her benefit concerts for the orphans of merchant sailors lost at sea as well as naval casualties of the Napoleonic Wars.
She smiled at the thought of Arnaud with Lieutenant Bourne in a carriage behind them, following along to his own mother’s house. Captain Neville had been assigned escort duty with Lydia and her maid Jane on an extended shopping expedition. The stormy looks Neville had exchanged with Arnaud earlier would have been comical if the threat to their safety had not been so terrifying. Although everyone agreed Sophie seemed to be the main target of the kidnapping attempts, Lydia’s likeness as well had been on the sketch the young sweeps had been given by the mysterious man who seemed to be orchestrating the plot against Sophie.
When they finally rounded Hanover Square, Sophie bounced on her seat in delight. A fluffy white dog had leaped from the arms of Mrs. Bellingham’s footman and now raced back and forth in a flurry on the walk in front of her townhouse. He seemed to have developed much better manners since she’d rescued him in Hyde Park. He sat down hard at a word from the footman and watched anxiously as the Bellingham groom took control of Sir Thomas’s team. The dog’s nemesis, the household cat, was nowhere to be seen.
Arnaud’s mother descended the steps to welcome Sophie when Sir Thomas handed her down from the curricle. She embraced Sophie and kissed both her cheeks before apologizing with, “I am sorry, but I am French, and feel as though you are a dear friend now. We have been through so much together, preparing for your first ball and then enduring my too-serious son’s frowning guard duty.” She ended on a peal of laughter and was joined by Sir Thomas.
At that moment, the Howick carriage pulled behind the curricle, and Arnaud and Lieutenant Bourne emerged.
“Where is Dr. MacCloud?” A quick frown passed across Mrs. Bellingham’s face. “Cook made his favorite ginger cookies especially.”
“His father invited him to a lecture at The Royal Academy. Although how any wisdom manages to work its way into his thick, Scottish skull is beyond me.” Arno smiled at his mother, and a twinge of wistfulness assailed Sophie.
Lancelot rushed all sadness out of her mind with a leap into her arms not anticipated by his footman-keeper. She snuggled him close until he licked her cheek and tilted her elaborate bonnet with a flail of his paw. Sir Thomas removed him from Sophie’s arms with a gentle tug and handed him over to the footman. He stepped back to her side and with slow tenderness, re-settled the hat.
Sophie’s cheeks flamed, and out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed a dark frown on Arnaud’s face.
Arnaud spied the exchange between Sophie and Sir Thomas after her encounter with the impossible small dog. He quelled the image that leapt unbidden to his mind’s eye. The one where he pummeled Sir Thomas to the ground for daring to touch even the edge of her ridiculous, over-trimmed bonnet.
The man was an engaging, reasonable, respected member of theton. He obviously cared for Sophie and had sufficient standing and power to protect her. That being said, why then did Arnaud continue to engage in the particular fantasy of reducing his handsome features to a bloody pulp? More to the point, how could Arnaud and his men continue to be effective in their guard duties considering his objectivity concerning Sophie had fled? Though the truth galled him, Arnaud was a pragmatist.
His feelings for Sophie Brancelli were no longer platonic. He would never subject her to a life of marriage to a seafaring man, but neither could he continue to deny she was unbearably dear to him.
Once his mother had shepherded Sophie and her naughty dog through the door, Sir Thomas walked to Arnaud’s side and leaned close. “Did you notice any suspicious persons or conveyances on the way here?”
The sudden shift in Arnaud’s awareness made him slow to answer. “Nothing outstanding,” he finally said, “but with what’s happened so far, we can’t be too careful. Lord Howick is still firm in his wish for us to continue guard duty.”
“And you, Captain Bellingham? What are your wishes? I’m sure an officer on leave from the Royal Navy has a myriad of details to claim his attention. Wouldn’t you prefer to get on with your life?”
Arnaud struggled to bank the fire of anger burning and clawing at his gut. “What my men and I choose to do with our leave is entirely within our private purview. We will of course remain on duty as long as the young women under Lord Howick’s protection require guards.”
Sir Thomas leaned closer. “I’ve heard you’ve yet to enlist your full complement of crew.” He paused for a moment and then added, as if in afterthought, “I’ve also heard Frannie, beg pardon, Viscountess Frances Fairfield, is back in town.”
Arnaud stiffened and clenched a fist. “With all due respect, Sir Thomas, my private life is none of your concern. I would be obliged if you do not choose to sail into those waters again.”
The other man drew back, eyebrows raised. “Do you dare to threaten me?”
Arnaud made a slight bow. “No, Sir Thomas. I never tender warnings before blowing an enemy ship out of the water.”
The tall barrister did not reply, but simply gave Arnaud a knowing smile and wink before turning toward the townhouse.
Lieutenant Bourne shouldered next to Arnaud and pointed toward the door flanked by his mother’s footmen through which Sir Thomas had just disappeared. “Captain, how can we let that bloke call the pipe and drums? That poor lass’s life is still in our hands. We have no idea who wishes her harm.” After urging a still-seething Arnaud toward the door, he added, “Keep your eye on the line, Captain. Don’t lose sight of your course and why we’re here.”
Sophie bent down to Lancelot’s plump-pillowed bed in Mrs. Bellingham’s drawing room and smoothed the fuzzy fur on the small dog’s back. The small yips of pleasure coming from her pet made her smile.
When she straightened from petting her dog, she viewed a puzzling sight. The divergent expressions on the faces of Sir Thomas, Arnaud, and Lieutenant Bourne gave her pause. When the barrister came forward to greet Mrs. Bellingham, both of them exchanged slight, knowing smiles. Arnaud, however, looked as though he’d sighted a ship overflowing with Barbary pirates. Lieutenant Bourne’s usually cheerful countenance had turned into what she imagined he’d put forward while his troops were being inspected.
Although everyone in their party was undoubtedly fully sober, Sophie felt a duty to broach and smooth the conversational waters, much as she had done when her father’s soirees had spun drunkenly out of control.
“Sir Thomas — I want to thank you for making my first ride in a curricle as painless as possible.”
The barrister’s lips quirked in a crooked smile and he took a seat near Sophie. “Thank heavens. Pain is not usually the feeling I aspire to invoke in my riding companions. More importantly, what did you think of my beauties? I had them brought especially by my head groom from Clifford Park.”
Sophie blushed furiously. “You are too kind, Sir Thomas. Your mares are beautiful and high-spirited, but very well-behaved. I enjoyed stealing away to the stables at Wolford when I was a child, but my grandmother never encouraged me to ride. And after she died…”
Sophie turned away from Sir Thomas’s kind, solicitous regard and realized she’d cast a pall over everyone. “Forgive me, Mrs. Bellingham. You, your son, his officer, and Sir Thomas gave up your morning plans so that I could spend time with my naughty little dog, who, it turns out is not gray, but snowy white.” Lancelot gave out a series of excited yips but quieted when she returned to smoothing his furry back.