My Honourable Viscount - Lords of Reluctance Book 2

Chapter Thirteen

Anticipation wrestled with disquiet as Sophie prepared for the evening ahead. Her new dresser, a worthy woman of exceptional skill hired just that very morning, had recently placed the finishing touches to her freshly cut and styled hair. Charlotte was correct, Sophie mused, turning this way and that in front of the cheval glass. Softening her style did help as it moderated the harshness of her cheekbones. Several lemon rinses had revealed golden highlights Sophie had not realised were lurking within her chestnut tresses.

Shopping was not the only activity Charlotte had planned for Sophie to undertake that morning. As soon as they arrived at Aylesbury House, Charlotte had whisked Sophie up to her chambers and introduced her to her own dresser, Manning, who then proceeded to sheer Sophie’s locks at Charlotte’s direction. As the first of Sophie’s chestnut curls fell to the floor, however, she almost changed her mind, but soon saw the wisdom of Charlotte’s superior knowledge of ton fashions.

She was also fortunate with the ease in which she found her new dresser. Manning’s sister had just left her previous situation and had yet to find another, so Sophie immediately offered her the position and her new dresser, also named Manning, appeared at Ashington House that afternoon. And Sophie was pleased that she did. It turned out she was just as talented as her sister was, sweeping Sophie’s hair up into a loose chignon secured with a diamond barrette that had mysteriously appeared on her vanity. Sophie knew not where it had come from, but she was loath not to wear such a pretty piece.

As she picked up her reticule in readiness to depart, a knock sounded on the connecting door. She shared a look with Manning, who then retreated into the hallway. “Come in,” Sophie said with a slight break to her voice. Before the door even opened, she knew who wished to gain entry. Instant wariness replaced the blissful contentment she was feeling mere moments before. Her heart hammered painfully against her ribs. With shaking hands, she smoothed her skirts, dampened palms almost leaving marks upon the fine sapphire blue silk. She had no wish to embarrass Lord Ashington when he escorted her to the theatre, and fervently hoped that her appearance would live up to Lord Markham’s exacting standards. She need not have worried.

As soon as he entered the room, he stopped abruptly, a slow smile transforming his face from resignation to appreciation. Surprisingly enough, Sophie found herself smiling in return, albeit a trifle tremulously. He did look very handsome though, dressed in readiness for his own escorting duties. His black tailcoat accentuated broad shoulders. Black breeches skimmed muscular thighs and black hose gave definition to calves not in need of any padding. A burgundy waistcoat gave a touch of colour to an otherwise austere ensemble. A single emerald pin sat within the folds of an intricately tied white linen cravat, which perfectly matched the colour of his eyes.

He moved closer, coming to halt just in front of her. His head tilted to the side, eyes roaming from the top of her head down to the tip of her toes, as though committing her appearance to memory. Again that slow grin that held the power to turn her knees into blancmange in spite of her wariness. “My dear, you do the Ashington name credit this evening,” he said huskily. He lifted her hand to place a kiss on her bare fingers, for she had entirely forgotten to put on her gloves.

Her skin tingled from the warmth of his lips. A warm glow bloomed within for reasons she could not even begin to comprehend. “Thank you, my lord,” she whispered, quite overcome by the sincere compliment he had just paid her. It was so unexpected she almost forgot to breathe.

Grinning as though he held a secret, he withdrew a jewellery case from where he had hidden it behind his back. With a flourish, he opened it to reveal a sapphire necklace nestled within burgundy velvet, a matching pair of earbobs and bracelet completed the set. Sophie gasped. Never before had she seen such quality in a piece of jewellery. In truth, she had never been this close to such a quality piece of jewellery. Its gold fittings and the flawless, deep blue colour of the stones shone in the muted light of the candles placed about the room.