Read Online The Grand Sophy by Georgette Heyer - Free Book Online Page B

have had to ride a great deal.” The door opened just then, but not, as Lady Ombersley had expected, to admit her butler, with an announcement that dinner awaited her pleasure. Her husband walked in, announcing that he must just catch a glimpse of his little niece before going off to White’s. Lady Ombersley felt that it was bad enough of him to have refused to dine at home in Miss Wraxton’s honor without this added piece of casual behavior, but she did not let her irritation appear; merely saying, “She is not so very little, after all, my love, as you may see.”
    “God Gad!” exclaimed his lordship, as Sophy rose to greet him. Then he burst out laughing, embraced Sophy, and said: “Well, well, well! You’re almost as tall as your father, my dear! Devilish like him, too, now I come to look at you!”
    “Miss Wraxton, Lord Ombersley,” said his wife reprovingly.
    “Eh? Oh, yes, how-de-do?” said his lordship, bestowing a cheerful nod on Miss Wraxton. “I count you as one of the family, and stand on no ceremony with you. Come and sit down beside me, Sophy, and tell me how your father does these days!”
    He then drew Sophy to a sofa, and plunged into animated conversation, recalling incidents thirty years old, laughing heartily over them, and presenting all the appearance of one who had completely forgotten an engagement to dine at his club. He was always well disposed toward pretty young women, and when they added liveliness to their charms, and guessed exactly how he liked to conduct a flirtation, he enjoyed himself very much in their company, and was in no hurry to leave them. Dassett, coming in a few minutes later to announce dinner, took in the situation immediately, and after exchanging a glance with his mistress withdrew again to superintend the laying of another place at the table. When he returned to make his announcement, Lord Ombersley exclaimed: “What’s that? Dinnertime already? I declare, I’ll dine at home after all!”
    He then took Sophy down on his arm, ignoring Miss Wraxton’s superior claims to this honor, and as they took their places at the dining table commanded her to tell him what maggot had got into her father’s head to make him go off to Peru.
    “Not Peru; Brazil, sir,” Sophy replied.
    “Much the same, my dear, and just as outlandish! I never knew such a fellow for traveling all over the world! He’ll be going off to China next!”
    “No, Lord Amherst went to China,” said Sophy. “In February, I think. Sir Horace was wanted for Brazil because he perfectly understands Portuguese affairs, and it is hoped he may be able to persuade the Regent to go back to Lisbon. Marshal Beresford has become so excessively unpopular, you know. No wonder! He does not know how to be conciliating and has not a grain of tact.”
    “Marshal Beresford,” Miss Wraxton informed Charles, in a well-modulated voice, “is a friend of my father’s.”
    “Then you must forgive me for saying that he has no tact,” said Sophy at once, and with her swift smile. “It is perfectly true, but I believe no one ever doubted that he is a man of many excellent qualities. It is a pity that he should be making such a cake of himself.”
    This made Lord Ombersley and Hubert laugh, but Miss Wraxton stiffened a little, and Charles shot a frowning look across the table at his cousin, as though he were revising his first favorable impression of her. His betrothed, who always conducted herself with rigid propriety, could not, even at an informal family party, bring herself to talk across the table, and demonstrated her superior upbringing by ignoring Sophy’s remark, and beginning to talk to Charles about Dante, with particular reference to Mr. Cary’s translation. He listened to her with courtesy, but when Cecilia, following her cousin’s unconventional example, joined in their conversation, to express her own preference for the style of Lord Byron, he made no effort to snub her, but on the contrary, seemed