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‘May I see the sketch?’ Henri held out her hand and dragged her mind away from the rapidly developing daydream about Robert. She hated to think about the last time she had been given to dreaming her life away.
‘I haven’t got your mouth quite right.’ Sophie gave a pretty frown and shut the drawing book. ‘When it is finished, then I will show you. This is going to take me all day and most of tomorrow, maybe on into the evening.’
‘Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the ball tomorrow? The At Homes have gone well, according to your stepmother.’ Henri tried to keep the wistful note out of her voice. She had spent the entire night waking from dreams where Robert had grabbed her about her waist and danced her around the room. A proper polka rather than a staid waltz.
Sophie toyed with her pencil. ‘It depends on if I’m going. Mama hasn’t decided yet. I’ve performed well at the various At Homes and have managed to keep from blotting my copybook but…am I ready? Have I learnt my lessons? Mama keeps saying it is my choice, but.’
‘You must go. The ball is sure to be tremendous fun. Everyone will want to meet you.’
‘There are always other balls. I want to be able to go and not have everyone watching me and whispering about the awful tangle I make of things.’
Henri’s stomach tightened. Sebastian was wrong to have abused Sophie’s naïveté in that fashion. She deserved an opportunity to prove that she had learnt her lesson. Robert risked destroying her spirit.
‘Besides, you must be my eyes and ears. Your guardian has promised to dance a polka. You must make sure he does.’
‘Robert never dances. He thinks it is frivolous and far from logical.’ Sophie bit her lip. ‘Or at least he hasn’t for a long time. He used to when he was younger. I can remember peeking down at a dance once and he was there, waltzing with a distant cousin of mine. They were such a handsome couple. Her blonde looks set off his wonderfully. Everyone thought they were going to marry, but nothing came of it and she married an elderly earl. She has two little boys now. Robert has never danced since. Stepmama warned me about it.’
Henri kept her face bland as silently she urged Sophie to continue. She’d never considered that Robert must have been disappointed in love. It explained his cynical edge. And she wasn’t going to think about the blonde who had made him stop dancing.
‘He’ll dance tomorrow night,’ she said with a decisive nod. ‘If you ask him.’
‘Why?’
‘We had a wager and he agreed that, if he lost, he’d dance with me.’
‘You had a wager with my guardian. How tremendously thrilling.’ Sophie put down her pencil. Her eyes gleamed. ‘You must tell me everything, Henri.’
‘The substance of the wager isn’t important as we now have a truce, but he was willing to dance.’ Henri concentrated on keeping her head still and her expression rigid as Sophie reopened her sketch book. She wasn’t going to explore the hurt and betrayal. She could better understand his misguided motives now. Sophie was awfully young and easily led. ‘It would be right and proper for him to dance with you. Otherwise there might be speculation.’
‘He won’t like that. Will you ask him for me?’ Sophie added a few more rapid strokes of her pencil. Her eyes danced with mischief.
‘If you like. I should have thought of it before. It is the best way to shield you from comment. Far better than forbidding you to go.’
‘Are you sure you won’t come as well, Henri? I know you have agreed to stay for the supper party, but you could come to the ball and see my triumph. See me dancing with Robert.’
Henri clapped her hands. It was as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She had undone some of the damage that Sebastian had wrought. Sophie wasn’t frightened of going to a ball. ‘My ankle still pains me, so I shall expect a full report.’
‘Robert can’t stand simpering ninnies. And far too many women simply look into his eyes and see his bank balance. You should hear Mama on the subject.’ Sophie sucked the end of her paint brush, making it come to a point. ‘Is there any chance…of you and Robert?’
‘Put the matchmaking thoughts from your brain, Sophie. It doesn’t become you. I’ve no intention of remarrying. One does not seek to replace perfection.’ Henri knew her cheeks reddened slightly. The sooner she left, the sooner she could get back to her old life. There must a half-dozen people who needed her assistance. And when she returned to that life, all desire for Robert would vanish.
‘I think perfection must have been very difficult to live with. I know I’m far from perfect.’
