Read Online Three Original Ladies 02 - Lord Trowbridge’s Angel by G.G. Vandagriff - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: G.G. Vandagriff
Tags: Regency Romance
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the drunken Lila. As he walked her out to the street, she clung to him so much that he had to physically climb into the hackney in order to get her inside. Paying the driver and giving him the address, he finally went back inside and prepared for bed.
{ 11 }
SOPHIE SPENT THE EVENING distracted by her first taste of passion, reliving over and over the moments she had spent in Frank’s arms. If she could believe it, in four days, he had developed honest and honorable feelings for her. She was not as certain about her own feelings. As Fanny had predicted, trusting him—trusting herself —was going to take more time.
As she braced herself with her elbows on the windowsill in her bedroom, she looked out at the star-filled sky. Goose bumps rose over her whole body and an ache rose in her abdomen as she remembered Frank’s kisses. She had never known she was capable of such feeling. However, it was just feeling, not knowing.
But how safe she had felt with his arms around her! He had felt familiar, as though their embrace was something she remembered. As if, like he said, it had been predestined in some earlier existence. Was Frank her lover, not only now, but always? Before and after this moment in time?
Always somewhat intrigued by metaphysics, she had been an eager reader of Wordsworth’s philosophies. Especially his poem, “Ode to Intimations of Immortality . ” She recalled a relevant passage: Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting/The soul that rises with us, our life’s star,/ Hath had elsewhere its setting,/And cometh from afar:/ Not in entire forgetfulness,/ And not in utter nakedness, But trailing clouds of glory do we come From God, who is our home.
Sophie went to bed that night determined to seek Elise’s advice on her neophyte trust, but almost convinced that she had a blissful life ahead of her.
~ ~*
Sophie and Fanny set off on foot the short distance to their Aunt Clarice’s townhome for luncheon. Alexa accompanied them in her pram, an ornate affair purchased in Paris, one of the stops on Fanny’s Continental honeymoon.
Aunt Clarice was the wealthy relict of Sophie and Fanny’s Uncle Stephen. She lived in a lavishly decorated townhouse with her Siamese cat, Queen Elizabeth, her companion, Lady Susannah Braithwaite—known as Sukey—and Sukey’s tortoise, Henry Five.
All four of the inhabitants were in the red Chinese Saloon entertaining none other than Lord Shrewsbury. Sophie was surprised to see Frank’s good friend.
“Welcome, my dears! Have your met my dear friend, Lord Shrewsbury?”
“I have had the pleasure,” Sophie said as he moved forward. She extended her hand. “I thought you were joking when you said you adored my aunt!” Shrewsbury grazed her knuckles with his lips and gave her a wink.
“Alexa and I have not had the pleasure,” said Fanny. She had taken Alexa out of her pram and was a delightful picture, with her mother’s auburn curls peeping out from an embroidered white cap worn snuggly to her head and a long white gown laced with pink ribbons at the neck and hem.
Aunt Clarice made introductions while Sophie gave Queen Elizabeth a welcoming stroke and bent down to examine Henry Five, whom she knew only by reputation. “Extraordinary creature!”
“Lord Shrewsbury will take luncheon with us,” Aunt Clarice informed them. “He says he is hatching a project in which he hopes we will be interested, Sophie.”
“That sounds lovely,” Sophie said. “Lady Susannah, your tortoise is remarkable. I never knew they grew to be so large!”
“You must call me Sukey, dear. And, yes, Henry Five will outlive me undoubtedly! I must make a will one of these days and provide for him, poor dear.”
Luncheon was a lovely affair, served on Aunt Clarice’s rare and colorful Imari china. Her new chef, a Frenchman, had outdone himself. Vichyssoise was followed by turbot in sauce, succeeded by stuffed Cornish game hens and asparagus. For dessert, they were offered a variety of
{ 11 }
SOPHIE SPENT THE EVENING distracted by her first taste of passion, reliving over and over the moments she had spent in Frank’s arms. If she could believe it, in four days, he had developed honest and honorable feelings for her. She was not as certain about her own feelings. As Fanny had predicted, trusting him—trusting herself —was going to take more time.
As she braced herself with her elbows on the windowsill in her bedroom, she looked out at the star-filled sky. Goose bumps rose over her whole body and an ache rose in her abdomen as she remembered Frank’s kisses. She had never known she was capable of such feeling. However, it was just feeling, not knowing.
But how safe she had felt with his arms around her! He had felt familiar, as though their embrace was something she remembered. As if, like he said, it had been predestined in some earlier existence. Was Frank her lover, not only now, but always? Before and after this moment in time?
Always somewhat intrigued by metaphysics, she had been an eager reader of Wordsworth’s philosophies. Especially his poem, “Ode to Intimations of Immortality . ” She recalled a relevant passage: Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting/The soul that rises with us, our life’s star,/ Hath had elsewhere its setting,/And cometh from afar:/ Not in entire forgetfulness,/ And not in utter nakedness, But trailing clouds of glory do we come From God, who is our home.
Sophie went to bed that night determined to seek Elise’s advice on her neophyte trust, but almost convinced that she had a blissful life ahead of her.
~ ~*
Sophie and Fanny set off on foot the short distance to their Aunt Clarice’s townhome for luncheon. Alexa accompanied them in her pram, an ornate affair purchased in Paris, one of the stops on Fanny’s Continental honeymoon.
Aunt Clarice was the wealthy relict of Sophie and Fanny’s Uncle Stephen. She lived in a lavishly decorated townhouse with her Siamese cat, Queen Elizabeth, her companion, Lady Susannah Braithwaite—known as Sukey—and Sukey’s tortoise, Henry Five.
All four of the inhabitants were in the red Chinese Saloon entertaining none other than Lord Shrewsbury. Sophie was surprised to see Frank’s good friend.
“Welcome, my dears! Have your met my dear friend, Lord Shrewsbury?”
“I have had the pleasure,” Sophie said as he moved forward. She extended her hand. “I thought you were joking when you said you adored my aunt!” Shrewsbury grazed her knuckles with his lips and gave her a wink.
“Alexa and I have not had the pleasure,” said Fanny. She had taken Alexa out of her pram and was a delightful picture, with her mother’s auburn curls peeping out from an embroidered white cap worn snuggly to her head and a long white gown laced with pink ribbons at the neck and hem.
Aunt Clarice made introductions while Sophie gave Queen Elizabeth a welcoming stroke and bent down to examine Henry Five, whom she knew only by reputation. “Extraordinary creature!”
“Lord Shrewsbury will take luncheon with us,” Aunt Clarice informed them. “He says he is hatching a project in which he hopes we will be interested, Sophie.”
“That sounds lovely,” Sophie said. “Lady Susannah, your tortoise is remarkable. I never knew they grew to be so large!”
“You must call me Sukey, dear. And, yes, Henry Five will outlive me undoubtedly! I must make a will one of these days and provide for him, poor dear.”
Luncheon was a lovely affair, served on Aunt Clarice’s rare and colorful Imari china. Her new chef, a Frenchman, had outdone himself. Vichyssoise was followed by turbot in sauce, succeeded by stuffed Cornish game hens and asparagus. For dessert, they were offered a variety of
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