Chapter 1 #3
He wanted to see Miss Hayward again, but he needed to be armed with some semblance of self-respect when he next encountered the young lady.
Sophia stood at the edge of the ballroom, watching the colorfully attired dancers twirl in time to the music.
She had never held high hopes for her first Season.
At the time, she had vaguely wished to meet a gentleman, marry for love, and experience the newfound freedoms one attained as a married woman.
However, as her brother’s poor choices over the past few years began to mirror those of their late father, Sophia’s vague hopes had transformed into a firm resolve to avoid marriage at all costs.
Not that she could let her uncle and aunt know of her decision; the endless and trying conversations that would follow were best avoided. Instead, she had developed her two strategies for gently repelling would-be suitors.
Now in her fourth Season, it promised yet again to be an endless string of dreary small talk, mindless conversations, and carefully crafted performances on her part.
Parliament, in its infinite wisdom, had decreed that the 1820 session would run longer than usual, stranding the peerage in London during the odorous summer—a prospect Sophia found deeply disheartening.
Adding to the discomfort were the murmurings of the king’s plans for an ill-advised trial of Queen Caroline.
Fluttering her dance card, she reflected that the novelty of the little booklet, introduced by Lady Astley upon her return from Vienna, had proven useful for cooling herself in the crowded ballroom.
Now that word had spread of these Programmes du Bal, no doubt they would become ubiquitous as hostesses scrambled to outshine one another.
Her musings were interrupted by the realization that someone stood beside her.
Sighing, she pasted on a polite smile and turned to face her new companion.
To her dismay, it was none other than Lord Saunton: undeniably handsome, unquestionably morally bankrupt.
Her heart—and her smile—sank as he greeted her and reached for her card.
Had she not already discouraged the man at the Astleys’ ball?
“I see your next dance is available,” he said in his smooth baritone. “May I have this waltz?”
Belatedly, she curtsied. “Of course, my lord.”
Lord Saunton led her to the center of the ballroom. As he positioned himself and took her hand in his much larger one, he spoke unexpectedly. “I have been thinking of you.”
Sophia’s head whipped up in surprise. She stared at him, too startled to contain her thoughts. “Why?”
Lord Saunton chuckled sheepishly. “You are more direct than I remember from our last dance.”
Sophia inwardly cringed. “La, my lord, I am flattered you remembered our one dance together.” She hastily fluttered her lashes in an exaggerated display of flirtation.
He grinned, shaking his head. “Now, now, Miss Hayward, I preferred it when you were direct. It was not the dance that was unforgettable, but your candid thoughts about my character, which you shared with your friend on the balcony.”
Sophia blanched, frantically trying to recall what she had said to Lily about Lord Saunton that evening.
“Do not be concerned; you gave me pause for thought. Consequently, I have made a decision. Several decisions. And, as a result, I was thinking I would like to call on you tomorrow.”
Sophia’s mind screamed, No, no, no! This was a horrible turn of events. Her aunt would quite literally skin her alive if she refused such an invitation—from an earl, no less. But she could not involve herself with an incorrigible rogue. She could not involve herself with anyone!
During their first dance, she had made a point of boring the earl in order to avoid his attentions. And now she was memorable?
This would not do.
This would not do at all!
“Sophia?” His intimate use of her name made her wince.
He continued, lowering his voice, “Sophia, please say yes. I will not embarrass you or tell your aunt if you decline.” Wait!
Was he reading her thoughts? “I would very much appreciate the opportunity to call on you, and I would like it to be with your permission.”
She stared at him as they spun past another couple. “I dislike cads,” she whispered.
Lord Saunton sighed. “That is fair. You are a beautiful, intelligent woman?—”
Sophia’s jaw dropped as she gaped at him. She was?
“—and I promise to treat you with the utmost respect if you allow me to call on you. Please grant me the honor of a little time in your company, as I would like to get to know you better.”
“Why should I believe that? About respecting me, I mean?” She strove to sound confident but feared she merely sounded breathless.
He looked down into her eyes, his expression earnest. “After learning your candid opinion of my character, I have decided to grant generous assistance to the housemaids you referenced, and I am working to be a better man. I was wondering if you could help me.”
Sophia was so astonished by his words that she stumbled. His strong hand steadied her, ensuring no one noticed her misstep.
In befuddled shock, she heard herself say, “That is splendid news, but given your promise not to inform my aunt…” She paused, waiting for his confirmation. He gave a slight nod. “No, I would not like to be courted by you.”
Disappointment flickered across his face before determination took its place.
“I understand, and I have no wish to coerce you. I did not expect this to be easy. However, I am resolved to learn more about you—the intriguing young woman who caused me to see the error of my ways. Tell me, Miss Hayward, do you believe it is possible for a man to change?”
Sophia pondered his question as he guided her gracefully across the floor. “He can get sick; he can get well. He can make poor decisions; he can make astute ones. I have seen men change for the worse, so logic dictates that if a man can worsen, he must also be able to improve.”
Saunton regarded her with newfound respect.
“I am glad to hear you say that. I am a young man who has just awakened to his own selfishness. I have to believe that it is never too late for a man to change, or I will go mad. My cousin, Halmesbury, assures me that amends can be made, and a new future built. Do you believe in second chances, Miss Hayward?”
“I would never deny a man’s right to try to correct his path.”
Her heart raced as their conversation veered into unexpectedly meaningful territory. No man had ever spoken to her so openly.
“Then know your words had a profound effect on me. Please, may I have another dance at the Yardley ball? I would like one more chance to persuade you.”
Sophia’s breath hitched as their eyes met. His gaze held so much hope that she found herself whispering, “I promise.”
A genuine smile lit his face, and Sophia could not help but notice how compelling he was when he smiled with such warmth.
What harm could another waltz possibly do?
Feeling the increased beating in her chest, she worried that a single dance could do far more damage to her vow to stay unaffected than she could possibly conceive. Yet she could not bring herself to regret her decision to see him again.