Sophie's Halloo (19 page)

The sight of all these things was overpowering, as was the degree of familiarity exhibited between the men and women present. Sophie’s eyes widened in fascination as she watched an elegantly dressed young man, himself completely free of masquerade, approach a woman in the garb of a nun and wrap his arm around her waist. And the nun’s response was even more shocking, for she showed no inclination to object to this arrogant affront.

Sophie averted her gaze from what succeeded and began to scan the room in the hope of finding Tony.  But her heart sank as she realized the impossibility of identifying him amid the crowd. She had never known how successfully a mask, and especially a full-dress costume, could conceal a person’s identity, and she could now see why licentious behaviour would run no risk of public censure.

As she waited there for something to occur, a flicker of doubt crossed her mind. What if Tony had not come? What if he did not find her? Or worse, what if she had completely misread the events of the previous day? Surely she had not mistaken the significance of the change in his demeanour, from the stiff distance with which he had first greeted her to the unalloyed joy when he discovered that she was not engaged to Mr. Rollo. Nothing had been spoken, but so much had been understood—or so it had seemed. Sophie had come to the masquerade with the certainty that tonight Tony meant to finish the kiss which they had almost exchanged at Holland House, and this time, she did not mean to resist.

As her mind dwelt on these thoughts, she was approached by a gentleman in a black domino who might possibly be Tony. He was about the right height and weight, although in the confusing light, where even the colour of his eyes was not clear to her, she wondered if memory was serving her right. He bowed low, politely asking Aunt Sadie for the privilege of taking her charge out onto the floor, and Sadie, thinking, too, that it was Tony, agreed.

Sophie gave him her hand and was reassured by the friendly squeeze he gave it, but once out on the floor, her confidence wavered when she detected the odour of spirits on his breath. And the dance, she suddenly realized, being a waltz, brought the man in the black domino closer to her than any gentleman had been in her life.

Her partner clasped her tightly around the waist with a quickness that almost frightened her. Her head was all confusion. But, in spite of the confusion, the sparkling lights and the whirling of the room around her, she began to know instinctively that the man who held her so tightly was not Tony. There was no familiarity to his scent, no comfort in his touch and no pleasurable excitement as his eyes travelled over her in silent appreciation. And the conviction that he was not Tony grew rapidly as the urgent need to escape his clutches increased. For after one quick turn about the room, the man in the black domino stopped dancing and started to propose other plans for the evening.

“Your pardon,” said a man’s voice beside them, as Sophie tried to extract herself from the domino’s embrace. Her partner, so addressed, turned to see who had spoken and found himself confronted by a huntsman in a coat and mask of forest green. He was carrying a long whip, which he held stretched between his two hands, and his hold on the whip’s handle was so tight that his knuckles showed white beneath his skin.

“May I make the suggestion, Sir Domino,” he said politely, “that you find another partner for the remainder of the dance.”

The black domino laughed uncertainly in his drunkenness, not at all certain how to respond to such an unusual suggestion. “You may,” he answered with a touch of insolence, “but I am happy with the partner I now have.”

“Of course you are,” said the huntsman with a gallant bow in Sophie’s direction. “But I think you will soon find that you have mistaken your shepherdess.”  His tone held a note of special meaning, which Sophie could not decipher, but her heart gave a leap as she thought she recognized the voice behind the huntsman’s mask. She looked at him more closely, but cautiously, determined not to make the same mistake twice.

The black domino was shaking his head stubbornly.  “There’s no mistake,” he said with conviction. “She came in with the abbess.”

“But not
the
abbess,” persisted the huntsman. “And besides,” he said pleasantly, trying to change his tack since the first proved to have no effect on the drunken domino, “T’was I gave the view-halloo.”

Sophie looked at the newcomer hopefully as a grin accompanied these words, but the effect on her partner was not a happy one. Seizing her suddenly around the waist with one arm, he laughed and replied, “Oh, a vixen, is she? So that is why you want her for yourself.”

But Sophie had no chance to respond to the unpleasantness of his remarks, for more quickly than she could react, the huntsman’s whip had lashed out from his right hand and caught the black domino around the legs. And a blow to the jaw from the huntsman’s left hand quickly followed. The black domino, with one motion, released her and crumpled to the floor. Someone cried out, and a woman screamed, but the huntsman showed no signs of alarm.

“I’m afraid he’s tripped over my whip,” he said regretfully, “and likely bumped his head.” He motioned to two servants who had hastened toward the commotion. “Perhaps he will feel more the thing after a rest in one of the boxes,” he suggested helpfully, as they stooped to pick up the injured man.

Sophie had watched in fascination, shaken by the rapidity of events, her hand up to her lips to stifle a cry as the domino had fallen beside her. Now, she gazed at the huntsman uncertainly, not knowing what to do. Surely, she thought, she could not be mistaken in the easy grace with which her rescuer had disposed of his rival.

The huntsman stood and faced her in silence until the black domino had been helped from the floor and the dancers had gone back to their own occupations.

Then he extended his hands, and as she hesitated, said softly, “Sophie?” A quick step later, and Sophie found herself wrapped tightly in the comfort of his arms. She clung to him gratefully while he stroked her hair until the shaky feeling subsided and was replaced by the awareness of his being so near. Reluctantly, she pulled away, but when she looked up, was greeted by the familiar twinkle in the blue of Tony’s eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” he said in explanation. “There were two abbesses here tonight and one of them was definitely not respectable. By the time I had determined the sort of disguise your Aunt Sadie was likely to wear, you had been claimed by the black domino, and I very nearly made the same mistake he did.”

He gazed at her intently, and something about his look caused her knees to weaken beneath her. He stretched out his hands, more slowly this time, to draw her to the dance, and she found herself once again moving into the fold of his arms. Her body merged perfectly with his as they swirled to the rhythm of the music, and though he held her in an embrace that was tender, they circled the room as one.

Dazed by the strength of new emotions, Sophie allowed herself to melt into the cradle of Tony’s arms, to feel the strength of steel beneath his clothes and the warmth of his breath as he whispered against her hair. His words reached her through a mist of intoxication as he asked in husky tones, “Sophie, do you love me?”

Still in a dreamlike whirl, she raised her face invitingly and whispered back, “Yes.”

The huntsman’s eyes bore into hers from behind his mask, and she could feel the rapid beating of his heart as he held her closely to his chest. “Do you remember what I said to you before, my love,” he asked tantalizingly, “that at a masquerade one may do what one might not otherwise do?”

Sophie’s mind was a mass of confusion; she answered him dumbly with a nod. His face came close to hers as he whispered, “Then I shall take the kiss you owe me.” She did not turn away, but lifted her face to welcome his embrace. And finally, his lips met hers, and she gave herself up to a tide of emotion that threatened to sweep her away.

But before the tide could consume them both, Tony put her gently away from him with a shaky laugh and started to speak. Then, thinking better of it, he drew her to him more roughly and clasped her tightly to his chest. He was about to kiss her again when suddenly they were ripped apart by a powerful grasp.

“Release my niece, you impudent scoundrel!” cried Aunt Sadie as she pulled Sophie out of Tony’s reach. In her nun’s habit, she made an awesome picture of righteous defence of the faith.  Sophie started to protest, but was warned by a slight hand gesture from the huntsman to keep her peace. At a safe distance now from the outraged abbess, he merely bowed with a great show of respect, touched his hand to his cap and backed away from them until he was lost in the crowd.

Watching him go, but seeing a clear promise in his eyes, Sophie felt herself floating as if in a blissful languor. And yet, this languid state was far removed from the lethargy she had experienced over the previous few weeks. All her senses were tingling with wakefulness at the memory of Tony’s touch. And just below her peaceful feeling of security, her mind and body were thrilled with the excitement of life and delight in the future. She was unable to take her eyes from the place where he had disappeared into the crowd of dancers, but Aunt Sadie was not similarly affected.

“Insolent beggars!” she was saying in disgusted tones. “We must leave here at once, Sophie. I have never been exposed to such a vulgar lot—the most improper suggestions have been made to me tonight! You can have no conception! I thought I had you well placed in Sir Tony’s care, but I would not have taken my eyes off you if I had not been instantly surrounded by the most impudent...!” Sadie was too offended to finish her speech.

“Anyway,” she continued, trying to turn her mind from it, “I shall have a thing or two to say to Sir Tony about leaving you to the mercies of that blackguard. He should have known better than to release you to anyone but me.”

“But the black domino was not Sir Tony,” said Sophie, recalling her first partner with difficulty. She allowed Aunt Sadie to drag her from the room by one arm and followed her meekly outside and to their carriage. She did not want to disturb the pleasant haze which surrounded her by entering further into the conversation, but she thought Sadie should be clear on that one point at least.

Fortunately, her aunt was in a state of such high dudgeon that Sophie did not need to add any more. Accepting the notion that the black domino was not Tony, Sadie continued to berate the masqueraders until she had Sophie safely home and put to bed.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Lady Corby glanced up from her stitching to steal a look at her daughter. It was the morning after the masquerade and Sophie had yet to comment upon the evening. Aunt Sadie, who was seated with them in the parlour, had already had much to say about the failure of the scheme, though she had not been so indiscreet as to relate the worst of their affronts.

But Sophie had, so far, been silent. She seemed lost in a dreamy vagueness which was at once deeper and less despondent than her normal wanderings. She had not appeared at breakfast, but had dressed with particular care and was now seated near them in a lovely gown of palest green. Lady Corby had had to call her name a time or two before getting a response to the simplest questions, and it was clear that Sophie’s mind was not remotely on the work in her lap.

“You must not have stayed for very long, then, Sadie,” said Lady Corby, noting the time that they were gone. “I had not expected to see you back at such an early hour. Had you any pleasant partners, Sophie?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Sophie, dimpling secretively. She did not elaborate.

“A gentleman in a black domino,” supplied Aunt Sadie. “Seemed polite.” She looked at her niece curiously. “Are you certain he wasn’t Sir Tony, Sophie?”

“Oh, yes,” said Sophie languidly. Her eyes glazed over with a telltale dreamy stare. Lady Corby and Aunt Sadie exchanged puzzled glances and turned to her again, but before they could pursue the subject, Sir Tony was announced at the door.

It was the first time he had called upon them in weeks, and Lady Corby lifted her head with sudden surprise. She looked quickly to her daughter, who had instantly come awake, and then back to their visitor, whose gaze had eagerly found Sophie’s before broadening to include them all. With a lightened heart she rose to greet him.

“Sir Tony,” she said with scarcely restrained warmth. “How good it is to see you.”

With never failing politeness, he spoke a greeting to each of them and took a chair beside Aunt Sadie. For once, however, he seemed at a loss for conversation, and Lady Corby thought she detected a certain impatience in his bearing. His motions were not restful, and he avoided Sophie’s gaze with visible effort. Concerned by the change in his manner, Lady Corby attempted to put him at ease.

“Sadie and Sophie attended the masquerade at the Opera last night,” she said to start them off.

“Did you enjoy it?” Tony asked, allowing himself a quick glance at Sophie before turning back to Aunt Sadie.

“Yes,” said Sophie bluntly and more forcefully than she had uttered the same to her mother. She was fully alert now, from the moment he had entered the room, but she could not know how the eager light in her eyes had disturbed his own tranquility.

It seemed to Sophie that he was avoiding her, which she did not understand. Since the night before, she had been wrapped in a fog of sensuous awareness that was entirely new and confusing to her, and the sight of Tony had been enough to quicken her heart to an almost unbearable pace. Lost as she had been in a cloud of happy dreams, she had almost expected him to sweep her into his arms as he strode into the room. Her mother and her Aunt Sadie she saw as mere shadows between them.

But Aunt Sadie was answering Tony’s question as if it had been meant for her, and indeed, Tony, after his quick glance at Sophie, seemed to be giving her his attention.

“A shocking business!” repeated Aunt Sadie for his benefit. “I have never been exposed to such insults. Although,” she added justly, “I have reason to believe my choice of costume might have had something to do with that! But that does not excuse the behaviour that Sophie was subjected to,” Sadie said, wagging a finger at Tony. “I thought I had safely entrusted her to a gentleman, but the next thing I knew, another rascal was forcing his attentions on her in the most improper fashion.”