The Grand Sophy Read online

  ‘Oh, the deuce take that creature!’ exclaimed Sophy. ‘Now what has she done?’

  ‘She was walking here with Alfred,’ said Cecilia, ‘and she came upon us!’

  ‘Well,’ said Sophy reasonably, ‘I own I do not like her, and Alfred is certainly the horridest little beast in nature, but I see nothing in that to put you so much out of countenance! He cannot have tried to put his arm round your waist if his sister was present!’

  ‘Oh, Alfred – !’ said Cecilia contemptuously. ‘Not but what he would have me take his arm, and then squeezed it in the most odious way, and ogled, and said all the sort of things that make one itch to slap his face. But I care nothing for him! You see, Sophy, Augustus was with me!’

  ‘Well?’ said Sophy.

  ‘It is true that we had fallen a little way behind Addy, for how can one have any rational conversation with the children chattering all the time? But she was not out of sight, and we had not stolen down a lonely path – at least, it wasn’t one of the more frequented paths, but Addy was there all the time, so what could it signify? – and to say that I was meeting Augustus clandestinely is wickedly unjust! Anyone would suppose him to be some hateful adventurer, instead of someone I have known all my life, pretty well! Why shouldn’t he walk in the Park? and if he does so, and we meet, pray, why should I not talk to him?’

  ‘No reason at all. Did that repellent girl give you a scold?’

  ‘Not me so much as poor Addy. She is in despair, for Eugenia seems to have said she was betraying mama’s trust, and encouraging me in clandestine behaviour. She was quite odious to me, but she could not say anything very much, because Augustus was with me. She made him walk with her instead, and told Alfred to give me his arm, and I felt smirched, Sophy, smirched!’

  ‘Anyone would, who was obliged to take Alfred’s arm,’ agreed Sophy.

  ‘Not that! But Eugenia’s manner! As though she had found me out in something disgraceful! And that is not the worst! Charles is driving here, and not a moment before you came up he went past us with Eugenia seated beside him. He gave the coldest look! She has told him all about it, depend upon it, and now he will be furious with me, and very likely work upon Mama as well, and everything will be so dreadful!’

  ‘No, it won’t,’ said Sophy coolly. ‘In fact, I shouldn’t be at all surprised if this turned out to be a very good thing. I cannot explain all that to you now, but I do beg of you, Cecy, not to be so distressed! There is no need: I assure you there is none! Very likely Charles will not say a word to you about this.’

  Cecilia turned incredulous eyes towards her. ‘Charles not say a word! You don’t know him! He was looking like a thunder-cloud!’

  ‘I daresay he was; he very often does, and you are such a goose that you instantly quake like a blancmange,’ replied Sophy. ‘Presently, I shall set you down, and you will join poor little Addy, and continue your walk. I shall go home, where I am pretty sure to find your brother, for we have driven right round the Park now, and seen no sign of him and I know he will go back to Berkeley Square, for I heard him mention to my uncle that somebody called Eckington would be calling there at five o’clock.’

  ‘Papa’s agent,’ said Cecilia listlessly. ‘And I don’t see, dearest Sophy, what it signifies, whether you find Charles at home or not, because he won’t speak of this to you: why should he?’

  ‘Oh, won’t he just?’ retorted Sophy. ‘Depend upon it, by this time he will have persuaded himself that everything has been my fault from start to finish! Besides, he is furious with me for having bought this turn-out without his help; yes, and for having hired a stable of my own, too! He must be longing for me to come back to the house so that he can quarrel with me without fear of interruption. Poor man! I think I should put you down at once, Cecy.’

  ‘How brave you are!’ Cecilia said wonderingly. ‘I do not know how you can bear it!’

  ‘What, your brother’s tantrums? I see nothing to be afraid of in them!’

  Cecilia shuddered. ‘It is not being afraid precisely, but I dread people being angry, and thundering at me! I cannot help it, Sophy, and I know it is poor-spirited of me, but my knees shake so, and I feel quite sick!’

  ‘Well, they shan’t be made to shake today,’ said Sophy cheerfully. ‘I am going to spike Charles’s guns. Oh, see! There is Francis Wolvey! The very thing! He shall restore you to Addy for me.’

  She drew up as she spoke, and Lord Francis, who had been chatting to two ladies in a landaulet, came up to the phaeton, exclaiming: ‘Sophy, that’s a capital turn-out! ’Servant, Miss Rivenhall! I wonder to see you trust yourself to such a madcap, I do indeed! She overturned me in a gig once. A gig!’

  ‘What an unhandsome thing to say!’ said Sophy indignantly. ‘As though I could have helped it on such a road. Frenada! Oh, dear, what a long time ago it seems, to be sure! I came up with Sir Horace, and stayed with Mrs – Mrs –’

  ‘Scovell,’ supplied Lord Francis. ‘She was the only lady living at Headquarters that winter, and used to hold loo-parties. Do you remember?’

  ‘Of course I do! And more vividly still the fleas in that dreadful village! Francis, I must pick up John Potton, and be off: will you escort my cousin to meet her little brother and sisters? They are walking with their governess somewhere beside the Drive.’

  Lord Francis, upon whom Cecilia’s beauty had made a great impression, when he had met her on the occasion of his calling in Berkeley Square, promptly said that nothing could give him more pleasure, and reached up his hands to help her down from the phaeton. He said that he hoped that they would not too speedily encounter the schoolroom-party, and Cecilia, not impervious to his easy, friendly address, and evident admiration, began to look more cheerful. Sophy, well-satisfied, saw them walk off together, and drove on to where her groom awaited her, by the Stanhope Gate. He reported that he had watched Mr Rivenhall pass through it not many minutes earlier, and added, with a dry chuckle, that he looked to be on his high ropes still. ‘Damned my impudence Miss Sophy, and fair jobbed at the grays’ mouths!’

  ‘Why, what had you said to enrage him?’

  ‘All I said was you hadn’t never been broke to bridle, missie, and what with him being in agreement with me, and not able to say so, there was nothing for it but to damn me and drive off. I don’t blame him! Hot at hand, Miss Sophy, that’s what you are!’

  Upon her arrival in Berkeley Square, Sophy found that Mr Rivenhall had only just entered the house, having walked round from the mews. He was still wearing his caped driving-coat, and had paused by the table in the hall to pick up and read a note which had been sent by one of his friends. He looked up frowningly as Dassett admitted Sophy, but he did not speak. Tina, who had developed (her mistress considered) an ill-judged passion for his society, frisked gaily up to him, and employed every art known to her to attract his attention. He did indeed glance down at her, but so far from encouraging her advances, said curtly: ‘Quiet!’

  ‘Ah, so you are in before me!’ remarked Sophy, pulling off her gloves. ‘Now, give me your candid opinion of those bays! Mr Wychbold fancies you may have had an eye upon them yourself. Is that so?’

  ‘Quite above my touch, cousin!’ he replied.

  ‘No, really? I gave four hundred guineas for them, and think I have a bargain.’

  ‘Were you serious when you gave me to understand that you have set up your own stable?’ he demanded.

  ‘Certainly I was serious. A pretty thing it would be if my aunt were obliged to bear the charge of my horses! Besides, I may very likely purchase two more, if I can find a couple to match the bays. I am told that it is all the crack to drive a phaeton-and-four, though I suppose that would mean altering the shafts, which would be a bore.’

  ‘I have no control over your actions, cousin,’ he said coldly. ‘No doubt if it seems good to you to make a spectacle of yourself in the Park, you will do so. But you will not, if you please, take any of my sisters up beside you!’

  ‘But it doesn’t please me,’