Page 120 of From Rakes to Riches

Ipswich was a quaint village, with charming coastline views and about two dozen wool farmers. There were a few larger estates, like the Duke of Leinster’s country seat, but the majority of the townspeople were simple and hardworking. She doubted Theodore had a pressing business meeting there. So, was he conducting an investigation of his own? An investigation into her past? Even the smallest question asked to the wrong person could cause her whole world to come crashing down.

She swallowed an onslaught of emotion and watched as the lawmen walked away. Instead of relief, her nerves were strung tight. Her heart ached in her chest. Marco was right. Theodore had lied. Or worse, he’d set out to discover what she’d workedso hard to keep hidden. She busied her trembling fingers with the knot in her shawl and walked toward the pavilion, consumed with worry. She didn’t want to run away again, but now it seemed she might not have a choice.

16

Theodore relaxed against the plush banquette in his carriage and watched as the landscape transformed from city bustle to pastoral countryside. Wyndham was deep into house accounts on the opposite bench and Theodore welcomed the quiet. Hopefully the roads would remain clear.

He hadn’t visited Ipswich in over fifteen years, yet he remembered the occasion fondly. He’d attended an autumnal house party with his parents at the Duke of Leinster’s country seat. Theodore was only a lad at the time, caught in the awkward age of thirteen when he was too young to pursue the ladies and too old to play tag or other childish games. He recalled walking down to the expansive stables in search of an interesting way to pass the time since he thoroughly enjoyed horses and had heard his father speak of the duke’s prized Arabians.

But even though Theodore reached the livery yard that afternoon, he never saw the horses, too distracted by a sprite of a girl who balanced atop the wrought iron fence posts that wrapped around the perimeter of the spacious horse enclosure.

The fencing stood several feet off the ground and the posts were narrow in width. At first glance he thought the girl foolish, certain she’d slip and break her neck while he’d have to suffer the memory of witnessing the tragedy of her fall. Yet the girl balanced easily, her surefooted steps a sight to behold.

Eventually, an older man with gray hair at his temples came out of the stable and chastised her. The man’s admonishment sent her running, her dark braids whipping in the wind as she fled. Theodore didn’t see her again for the rest of the party. Yet years later, sometimes for no reason he could explain, he thought of that daring girl and wondered what had become of her.

Shaking himself free from the long-ago memory, he glanced at the sun as it slid toward the horizon. The forty-five mile trip to Ipswich was too far to accomplish in one day and he’d rather stop at a comfortable coaching inn before the hour grew later. He wouldn’t mind a hot meal and the horses needed rest. Besides, unlike Wyndham who seemed perfectly content to sit inside the stifling carriage interior for countless hours, Theodore needed to stretch his legs and take some fresh air. He rapped on the ceiling and instructed Jenkins to bring them to The Blue Lantern, the finest coaching inn along their route. Then he eased his head back against the banquette, closed his eyes, and summoned an image of Lola.

On Sunday Vauxhallwas closed and Lola needed a distraction to keep her from pacing around her room in a one-sided debate concerning Theodore’s motives. To this end, she was relieved when Sofia knocked on her door and suggested they visit Gunter’s Tea Shop after lunch and indulge in a flavored ice.

Gunter’s was located on the east side of Berkley Square in Mayfair and one of the few places a proper lady could go withouta chaperone or societal censure. Neither Lola or Sofia was born into the gentry, so that fact didn’t signify, but it did ensure the eatery would be crowded and that assuaged Sofia’s brothers who were concerned about their safety. As was the popular custom, orders for the sweet confection were taken by the staff and hand-delivered in little glass cups outside in the square where the customers waited. This too assured Sofia’s brothers of the unlikelihood anything worrisome would occur.

However, none of these details mattered to Sofia who hid an underlying motive for choosing the location. Sofia had an eye for fashion and dreamed of designing stylish gowns made of imported silk and tatted French lace worn by fashionable, affluent ladies. Gunter’s was somewhere she could observe the latest dress silhouettes, admire the current shape of sleeves and necklines, and ogle bits of trim on embellished skirt hems without ever entering a stuffy drawing room or fancy ballroom. Afterward, Sofia would go home and draw what she’d seen in a sketch book kept under her bed. Lola knew that, for Sofia, the afternoon outing was an act of reconnaissance, but Lola merely looked forward to a cup of flavored ice and an escape from her rented room.

“I am undecided between the lavender or maple flavor,” Sofia said, her fingertip tapping lightly on her upper lip as if she deliberated an important problem. “Although last time Alessandro had the pineapple mousse and it was absolutely divine.”

“I’m tempted by the bergamot,” Lola said, knowing she’d chosen it because it reminded her of Theodore’s cologne. If only he didn’t smell so good.And make her feel so good.

They gave their order to the server and settled at a small table in the square where they sat in the waning rays of the afternoon sun. Lola watched Sofia’s gaze flit from one lovely ladyto another, her sharp mind cataloguing every pelisse, reticule and bonnet.

“Thank you for suggesting we come here. I needed a diversion today,” Lola said with a wry twist of her lips.

“It’s okay,” Sofia said as she brought her attention to their conversation. “I know what it feels like to be frightened.”

“I’m not frightened,” Lola answered quickly. “At least, not overmuch. I don’t think there will be another incident like what happened in front of the Cascade.”

“Oh, I’m not talking about that.” Sofia laughed softly. “I meant about you and Lord Essex. Emotion can be terrifying.”

Lola only listened, unsure how to respond.

“But that’s what makes it so precious, no?” Sofia continued. “When you finally find that one person who understands you without words. Someone who knows exactly what you need even when you have no idea. A man who can look at you a certain way and make your chest squeeze so tight, it’s like he’s reaching in and touching your heart.”

A tear slipped down Sofia’s cheek and she quickly wiped it away.

“Who was he?” Lola asked, taken aback by Sofia’s sorrowful admission.

“It doesn’t matter.” Sofia sighed deeply. “I’m here in London and I must be happy now. But I wanted to tell you that I know how it feels to have a secret and live everyday wondering if that secret will be revealed. I understand.”

“Here we are, ladies.”

The server arrived with their ices, but neither Lola or Sofia picked up the spoon to eat.

“Will you ever see him again?” Lola asked, unsettled by the thought Sofia carried such sadness.

“I don’t know. I hope so. My heart won’t believe otherwise. But he may no longer feel the same. There’s no way for me to know,” Sofia said with a tremor in her voice.

“Have you written to him?” Lola couldn’t help but ask.

“Only once. But that was months ago.” Sofia lifted her spoon and toyed with the top of her maple ice. “I told him not to answer me. I can’t receive his letters without causing a problem with my brothers. Besides if I did write to him again, I’m afraid of what he might say. That maybe he’d gone on with life after I’d left Italy. Except now, I wish I knew. Then my heart wouldn’t ache so much. I think most of my pain is caused by the unknowing. It’s all very confusing.”

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