Page 21 of Love Unraveled
She leaned into the small mirror and adjusted her pearl-drop earring. Cara had braided Sophia’s thick hair, wound it like a crown on her head, and tucked pearl-topped pins into it. Sophia liked the effect, like dew-kissed snowdrops glistening in the morning sun. She tilted her head to the opposite side and adjusted the other earring. Her mother had loved Sophia’s thick hair, always cooing and singing as she’d brushed it. Her mother had had a beautiful voice, and Sophia would drift away on a happy cloud.
She shook her head and frowned at herself in the mirror. “Basta!” she said out loud. “Enough!” The past was coming too close these days, and it was all Gaston’s fault. She pushed back the bench and stood. No one controlled Sophia Auclair Tessaro, not anymore. If Gaston thought he could step back into her life and she would fall at his feet, he was going to be thoroughly disappointed. She’d lost much through the years, and she would lose no more. She would not let him ruin the life she had created in England. She would not allow him to disrupt her newfound family.
“My apologies,signora mia,” Cara said, coming into the room with Sophia’s short robe. “It needed pressed. Had I known—”
“Sì, sì,” Sophia said, holding out her arms so Cara could slip the robe on. “It is my fault, I know.”
Cara had come with her to England and was used to Sophia’s idiosyncrasies, including changing her mind at the last moment. It was unusual for her maid not to be prepared for any eventuality, but tonight’s change of wardrobe had caught her off guard. In all fairness, the robe Sophia unexpectedly chose had been brought from the country. Cara had been forced to pack with such haste when Sophia had decided to come to London quickly that she was still catching up on her duties.
The robe was the color of an unripe mulberry, and while it was a nice contrast to the gray silk evening dress, she’d chosen to wear it because it was the darkest item of clothing she owned. She far preferred vibrant colors, but she wanted to present a somber Sophia to Gaston, to let him see his presence made the evening funereal.
Cara finished and stepped to the side. Sophia looked in the mirror and sighed. Unfortunately, the silver crepe trimming the neckline as well as the sleeves and the flounce, the matching belt encircling her waist—pulled snug under her breasts and cinched with a pearl broach—softened the severity of the color. She should have borrowed one of Catherine’s mourning gowns. She sighed again. Even if Catherine had them in London, they wouldn’t fit. They’d be busting at the seams and dragging along the floor.
“You are not happy,signora mia?”
“No, Cara, I am not, but there is nothing to be done about it.”
Sophia took the wrap from Cara, although she did not think she would need it. May was beginning on a splendid note. Well, the weather was anyway. After tonight, the rest of her life should fall back into a comfortable pace, where she was once again in control of where she went and with whom she spent time.
Raimondo escorted her to the waiting carriage and waited until she was settled. She smiled to herself when he climbed on the box seat with Charles, the carriage rocking from the sheer size of him. He would not be much good at sleuthing unnoticed. Of course, nor was she. She always attracted attention, a blessing and a curse, she supposed. It was why she did her spying in plain sight.
There was nothing to fear from a frivolous woman who simply sought a good time. It was not an unenjoyable role to play. She had always been sociable and gregarious. It had been far more difficult to repress that side of herself during her years inVeneziawith her aunt. No, she did not detest the game she played, only the reasons. She longed for an end to the war, when the rightful heir to the throne returned to France. Only then would her mother’s needless death have been avenged. And her dear papa’s, for he must be dead too, or she would have heard from him.
Sophia blew out a long breath, the agony of loss suffocating. Mama, Papa, Carmine, Gaston. No, not Gaston. She would mourn him no more. She blessed the memories of the others and cursed Gaston for bringing such pain into her world once again.
Chapter Fifteen
But quickly on this side the verdict went:
His real habitude gave life and grace
To appertainings and to ornament.
—Shakespeare, “A Lover’s Complaint”
Walford had notbeen exaggerating when he’d said the women would be inquisitive. They each took turns questioning him. It would be amusing were it not so frustrating watching Sophie avoid him at every turn.
“Yes, it is true. It was a terrible time, but I am fortunate to have found a new life here,” he said.
“In Scotland, I understand. Pity it has taken you so long to find your way to London.” Lady Thornwood said it innocently enough, but her quick glance toward Sophie gave away her intended implication. Angelic-looking she might be, but she was devilishly determined. It was clear she wanted to make a match between Gaston and Sophie. He’d not spurn her assistance.
“Yes, had I known the enticements of the city, I am sure I would have come sooner.”
Lady Thornwood smiled triumphantly as her husband stepped up beside her. “Seigneur Durand was saying he is finding London appealing.”
“Seigneur?” Thornwood asked, tilting his head. “Where were your family’s lands?”
Thornwood asked it casually enough, but his eyes were alert, no doubt assessing the stranger in their midst. Before Gaston could respond, Lady Thornwood interrupted, putting a hand on her husband’s arm.
“He does not wish to talk about such things. They are lost to him forever, and he remains heartsick. In fact, he insists we not use seigneur any longer, as it represents another man altogether.” She touched Gaston’s arm. “My apologies for using it,MonsieurDurand.”
Gaston nodded, schooling his face appropriately, but he wanted to laugh. He certainly had managed to woo the women.
“Indeed,” Thornwood said, looking unconvinced. However, he did not pursue it. Instead, he asked about Gaston’s current situation, which was almost as awkward. Fortunately, they were interrupted as Lady Walford clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. The room quickly grew quiet.
“I have a special treat for us this evening. Miss Langdon is going to play the pianoforte.”
“What a treat,” Lord Stratton boomed. “The girl works magic with those keys. She can put little Daniel to sleep in seconds, so soothing are her melodies.”
