Regency Affairs Part 2: Books 7-12 Of 12. Ann Lethbridge

despite being out in the garden alone with my nephew,’ Lady Parthenope pronounced. ‘A word to the wise—even if you are overcome with heat, it is always best to keep your chaperon in sight. To do otherwise is to invoke comment. However, on this happy occasion I must forgive the tiniest lapse of judgement.’

      Relief swept through Sophie. Lady Parthenope was practically purring her approval. Her reputation might survive.

      ‘I know your nephew has honourable intentions, your ladyship,’ Sophie said firmly, fixing Lord Bingfield with her eye.

      ‘I was unaware you were acquainted with my nephew. That is all, Miss Ravel. I must do more to further our acquaintance,’ Lady Parthenope said.

      ‘Come, come, Aunt.’ Lord Bingfield put his hand on his aunt’s sleeve. ‘Do I need to send you a note every time I meet a suitable unmarried lady? Every time I wish to make a proposal of a sensitive nature to said lady? If that is to be the way of the world, I want no part of it.’

      ‘It would be helpful, Richard.’ The elderly woman gave a sniff. ‘Your father was very tedious at our luncheon.’

      ‘Nor was I aware that you shared a close friendship with Lord Bingfield, Miss Ravel,’ Sir Vincent said. ‘The things one learns at balls. It puts our earlier conversation in a very different light. I do hope you remember every word of our previous encounter.’

      A faint prickle of alarm ran down Sophie’s back, but she forced her lungs to fill with air. Sir Vincent’s threat was hollow. She was safe. Lady Parthenope had pronounced judgement. Despite the slight hiccup of Lord Bingfield being notorious, he had behaved impeccably.

      ‘Where did you think I was going to, Sir Vincent, after I delivered Miss Johnson’s note? I do hate being late.’ She made a curtsy which bordered on the discourteous. ‘I did say that I had a prior engagement. I failed to mention Lord Bingfield before because, quite frankly, it is none of your business.’

      Sir Vincent’s mouth opened and closed several times.

      Lady Parthenope suddenly developed a cough and Sophie struggled not to laugh after she caught Lord Bingfield’s eye. Her heart suddenly seemed much lighter. Tonight’s events were not going to be a catastrophe after all.

      After tonight, she would not push her luck. She had to remember that adventures only became exciting in memory. During an adventure, one was often out of sorts and uncomfortable. Adventure should happen to other people, not to her if she wished to keep her reputation. Ice-cold calm and dignity while she waited to meet the man whom she could love. Friends first, but only after he’d proved himself worthy—it was the only way to have a great and lasting romance. She had seen the formula work with Robert and Henrietta and now Cynthia.

      ‘Sir Vincent may escort me in,’ Lady Parthenope said after she recovered from her coughing fit. ‘His mother and I were at school together. And, dear Miss Ravel, you may take your time as long as you come to the right decision quickly. It is blindingly obvious to me that nothing untoward happened here. You must not presume the worst, Sir Vincent. There again, your mother possessed that unfortunate habit. It obviously runs in the family.’

      Lady Parthenope swept towards the house with a bleating Sir Vincent on her arm and the rest of her party trailing in her wake. Sophie waited until the noise had abated, feeling the cool night air on her face. She had survived.

      Lord Bingfield held out his arm. ‘Shall we go, Miss Ravel? I take it you have had time to consider my proposal. My nerves shall be a-quiver until I hear your answer.’

      ‘I doubt your nerves ever quiver, Lord Bingfield.’

      ‘You wrong me.’ He put his hand to his forehead. ‘I may be the type to weep at dead daffodils.’

      ‘Are you?’

      He stood up straighter. ‘Thankfully, no. I can’t remember the last time I wept at anything. Shall we go in before we invoke more comment?’

      Sophie placed her hand on his arm. Her body became instantly aware of him and his nearness. His proximity to her was doing strange things to her insides and her sensibilities. Had she learnt nothing in the past four years? Rakes oozed charm and women forgot propriety when they were near them. The best defence was to be calmly aloof.

      A tiny prickle coursed down her spine. Even when she had considered an elopement in her youth, she had not felt as though she wanted Sebastian Cawburn to kiss her, not in the desperate deep-down way that she wanted Lord Bingfield to kiss her when they had stood so close earlier.

      ‘Thank you for rescuing me,’ she said, trying for the poised voice she’d perfected after the Sebastian débâcle. Failed miserably as it came out too breathless for her liking. ‘Your idea of an unnamed proposal was particularly inspired. I hope … It doesn’t matter what I thought. It is finished now and my reputation is safe. From what Sir Vincent said earlier, I believe Cynthia will be safely married soon to the man she has chosen. It is important to choose a congenial life’s partner rather than have one chosen for you.’

      ‘I agree entirely,’ he said, helping her around a muddy puddle. ‘A close call, but I feel it was easily accomplished in the end. There should be no repercussions. Who would dare gainsay Lady Parthenope’s pronouncement of innocence?’

      ‘Will your aunt be cross when she discovers we have no intention of marrying each other?’ Sophie asked in an undertone. Her body was immediately aware of the way his gloved hand curled about hers. He frowned and let go of her hand.

      ‘She will get over it. Being a disappointment to my aunt appeals. Someone has to be and my cousins have thus far all proved to be sterling examples of moral rectitude and sobriety.’

      Sophie forced a smile, but her heart gave a little pang. Lord Bingfield was by far the most interesting man she had met in years and the most unsuitable. A poised demeanour had to be her armour. Never again would she return to that frightened girl, cowering behind a door. ‘You were truly a shining knight.’

      ‘I’ve no love for Putney and a soft spot for beautiful ladies in distress. It was no trouble. Think no more about it.’

      They reached the doorway to the house and in the sudden light, she saw Lord Bingfield clearly for the first time. His dark-brown hair curled slightly at his temples, framing his burnished gold eyes. His mouth was a bit large, but hinted at passion. It was the sort of face to make a woman go weak at the knees and forget her solemn vows.

      Sophie fought against an inclination to prolong the encounter. There was no future for her and Lord Bingfield. She had given up on notorious men years ago. The adventure had finished and she and her reputation were safe.

      She stopped beside the ladies’ withdrawing room. ‘The adventure has ended.’

      ‘Should you ever require a knight again, fair lady, let me know.’ He raised her hand to his lips.

      The light touch sent a throb of warmth coursing through her. It would be easy to believe in romance, rather than chemistry. Against her better judgement, she wanted to believe he could be a shining knight and protect her from harm, rather than destroy her utterly.

      ‘You see, I did accept your proposal of protection from Sir Vincent. It was a truly honourable proposal.’

      ‘My pleasure and you understood the proposal.’ He gave a half-smile and inclined his head. ‘You do know I have no intention of marrying despite what my aunt might believe or my father might dictate.’

      ‘And you do know I have no intention of behaving badly,’ Sophie said, clutching her reticule close to her chest. Her earlier instincts had been correct. Lord Bingfield was the sort of man who was not safe in carriages. He had saved her reputation, but she knew how that particular game was played. Some day she hoped she’d meet someone who would make her heart soar and fulfilled all the criteria she had agreed with Henri on that fateful day. A friend before a lover. Someone of honour and whom she could love with the right pedigree for her stepmother. Other people had found love—why shouldn’t she?

      A small dimple