Page 8 of The Scandal of the Season (Fairfax Sisters #2)

Chapter Eight

ONE HOSTILE RAKE

Three days later

I t wasn’t exactly an untruth. Daffodils were Sophie’s favourite, but even she didn’t know why she’d said as much to Sir Weston – except that she’d very much enjoyed the scowl on Lord Rotherby’s face when she did so. She wrinkled her nose at the memory. In truth, Lord Rotherby hadn’t scowled so much as glowered, intently, and even though she had taken the greatest satisfaction from his clear disapproval for dear Sir Weston and his impoverished blooms, it was still a mystery of epic proportions. On reflection, she could only conclude that Sir Weston’s sensible coats and genteel manner offended him as much as her determination to make a love match.

Sighing, she gazed out at Hyde Park, wishing for the umpteenth time that Aunt Higglestone had accepted the offer of Phoebe’s lilac phaeton while she was away; it was so much finer than a hired carriage, especially for a debutante in her first season.

‘Do try and look a little bit interested, Josephine. It’ll be your turn soon enough.’ Sophie glanced across at her dearest bookworm sister, who was enthralled by a copy of Ann Hatton’s Modern Attachments .

‘I haven’t the time,’ Josephine murmured, raising an eyebrow.

‘I discovered Hatchards Booksellers in Piccadilly yesterday, and it is a perfect treasure trove! I fully intend to return there tomorrow as I found a rather lovely bound copy of Northanger Abbe y which smelled like old leather and ink and… Anyway, did you know this book was written by Sarah Siddons’s sister– the actress who gave Phoebe the theatrical epée she snapped when duelling the high?—’

‘Yes, yes dear,’ Sophie assured swiftly with a pointed look at their abigails, seated opposite them. ‘I recall her very well. And I’m sure it’s a very fine book, but the whole point of riding out in Hyde Park before dinner is to see and be seen. All anyone can see of you is the tip of your topknot à la madonna , and I do believe Lucy positively slaved over it.’

Josephine rolled her eyes before marking her page with her favourite homemade bookmark.

‘Aunt Higglestone’s maid isn’t here,’ she pointed out drily, ‘and the only reason I’m here is because Phoebe isn’t. I know you’d much rather be bowling through Hyde Park, in a fashionable phaeton, with the newest darling of the ton at your side.’

‘Not at all,’ Sophie frowned, reaching out to squeeze her sister’s hand. ‘For who else could I rely on to remind me that the season is actually all rather frivolous and silly, if not the most thoughtful and dearest bookworm among us?’

She smiled as Josephine’s face lit up, though she was conscious of a dart of concern too. Their mild-mannered middle sister could usually be counted on for her sunny outlook; it was most unlike her to compare herself to anyone.

‘I still don’t understand why Sir Weston was at the exhibition,’ Josephine blurted suddenly. ‘I would have thought him the last gentleman to be interested in an exhibition of modern ladies’ fashion. He usually seems… above such things.’

‘Dearest, Sir Weston was only there as an escort to Mrs Hendercott and her Bridge Club,’ Sophie replied, surprised Josephine should fix upon such a point. ‘Apparently, he offered to escort them in case there were any exuberant gentlemen present. Though how Sir Weston could offer any more protection than Mrs Hendercott herself, is beyond me!’

Josephine began to chuckle as Sophie glanced across the park at a smart black curricle being driven along the King’s Route at a vigorous pace.

‘She is rather formidable,’ Josephine replied, ‘like all our governesses and the Marchioness Carlisle rolled into one, only with slightly less peacock!’

At this, they both dissolved into snorts of laughter.

‘If anything, I suspect Sir Weston needed protection from Mrs Hendercott!’ Josephine added when she could draw breath. ‘Though I did think it was gentlemanly of him to escort you home. Did he not ask why you were there?’

‘He didn’t,’ Sophie said. ‘He’s far too well-mannered for that. Though I did mention having some ideas for my sketch book, so hopefully he realised it was for the sake of fashion… Not that it matters now. The main thing is that we all know just how much of a scoundrel Lord Rotherby can be. Do you know, apart from treating me like an ignorant schoolgirl, he actually had the effrontery to scowl at Sir Weston too– and all with his lady-friend on his arm!’

‘A scoundrel indeed,’ Josephine replied, eyeing her sister carefully. ‘He really is one of Matilda’s pigwidgeoned dunderheads!’

‘I warrant there are few more cheering sights than an ambush of fearless Fairfaxes choosing their own company over the rest of the ton,’ a low voice called with perfect timing. ‘Good evening, Miss Fairfax– and Miss Fairfax the younger too, I hazard?’

Sophie started at the familiar tone, before reluctantly turning towards the gleaming sports curricle that had pulled up alongside their own. Instantly she could see it was a fashionable equipage finished, it appeared, with far more care than the driver himself today. She glanced at Lord Rotherby’s ruffled hair and swiftly tied cravat, which gave him a dashing, almost heroic appearance in the late afternoon light, and suppressed a frown, for he was neither, she reminded herself. Indeed, he was still the same unpredictable, notorious rake she’d sworn to avoid for the rest of the season.

‘Good evening, sir,’ Sophie replied, deliberately ignoring his reference to Josephine. ‘I trust you are enjoying a pleasurable excursion?’

She waited, as he seemed to consider her question. Unusually, there was a decidedly unsettled air about him, and he appeared entirely devoid of company, save for a scowling tiger seated at the back of his curricle. For a few moments, Sophie wondered if Mrs Haxby had given him his marching orders and felt a peculiar satisfaction at the thought.

‘I am enjoying the air,’ he replied, ‘but in truth, Hyde Park is a little crowded today.’ He paused and smiled in a way that didn’t quite reach his shadowed eyes. ‘Though it is encouraging to see young ladies enjoying all of the distractions London has to offer,’ he continued. Indeed, I would be tempted to wager there will be a new darling of the ton very soon, but as I am already in danger of losing my first, I’ll offer it as a sincere belief instead. Miss Fairfax, I wish you every success of the season! And Miss Fairfax the Younger, you would do well to study your sister, for I am certain that her unique passion and charms will ensure she takes the ton by storm.’

Then he doffed his hat and drove on.

‘Well, what on earth was all that about?’ Josephine quizzed, wide-eyed.

‘I’m sure I haven’t the faintest idea!’ Sophie replied.