23
A Sly Baron
Shafts of light shone through the last leaves of the silver birch tree, tracing lacy patterns across the path. Sophia Vale lifted her head to the sweet trebles of birds high among the branches above her. It was an idyllic morning for mid- winter, and more so as Baron Jude Hawsley would be still abed. That dratted monster would not rouse until early afternoon, giving her freedom to enjoy the vestiges of winter sun. Now she was free from the fear of his unwelcome advances. However, wary of the sly ways of the Baron, she’d taken Freddie, her loyal sheepdog with her.
Picking her way through a mound of gold brown leaves, Sophia espied a patch of medicinal herbs. Lungwort was the most beneficial for her little sister’s congestion. Relieved, she plucked them from ferns, fast disappearing as winter winds advanced. With the icy chills of winter now sweeping the countryside, she was lucky to find them. The herbs would make tisanes to alleviate the crackling congestion on Emily’s chest, and ease the rasping cough. She wished she could afford the services of a Physicker, but his fees were well above their modest means, in fact, the stipend they did have, covered only their food and shelter of a dilapidated manse.
The scent of the wild herbs wafted through the forest bereft of foliage to a silent watcher. Hiding behind the thick trunk of a horse chestnut tree, Lord Jude Hawsley grinned, caught the chit; she was well away from the manse, well away from her noisome siblings. She was indeed a picture, in her velvet pelisse, those ebony waves flowing down her back to her waist. His heart rippled with her nearness, his fists clenching. How he yearned to take that slender body in his arms, tear off that coat, fondle her curves, kiss those full lips. Oh what he wouldn’t do if he had the chance. As she neared, he pounced. ‘Miss Vale—’
‘Oh – oh my Lord, you frightened me.’ She jumped back, turning in desperation to search for Freddie; where was he? However, the dog picked up her fright, and to her relief, emerged from the ferns, rushing to her side.
Seeing the blasted animal, the Baron waved his hands in placation. ‘My dear girl, you should not walk unescorted through these lonely paths. Some scoundrel could be waiting behind the bushes ready to ravish you.’
Sophia’s heart sank, now he’d changed his tactics, but at least she had Freddie with her. ‘Such talk sir, how indiscreet. Have you no sense of propriety?’ she asked with asperity.
‘Hmm, I think only for your safety, my sweet girl.’
‘Truly, my lord.’ She smiled, lifting those beautiful eyes to his. ‘I am quite safe here with only the birds and the deer as my companions. She looked pointedly down at her dog, now sniffing the man’s feet. ‘And of course Freddie, I do not venture far without him.’
‘Quite, quite so.’ he spluttered, wishing he could kick the cur away. ‘Such a loyal animal. However, now I am here to—’
‘But my lord, you should repair to the Manor; you will begrime those exquisite clothes.’
Not picking up her veiled sarcasm, he preened, struggling to lift his treble chin above the immaculately folded cravat. Hurriedly, he smoothed down the blue superfine frock coat, as he endeavoured to tug down the high cut over his barrel of a belly. Simpering, he squawked, ‘I am fit to swoon with your sweet praise. Praise from an angel alighted on my unworthy path.’ Foppishly, he flourished a silk handkerchief near her face, as he posed pointing his foot away from the damn cur’s nose. ‘So my apparel pleases you?’
Sophia took a deep breath. He reminded her of a fat old wood pigeon bowing and bending his tail feathers to his female victim. Well, he would not be jumping on her back. ‘Tis clear your valet spent hours fixing your cravat.’
‘Hmm, I follow Gronow and Beau Brummel to the tee, y’know. However, be that as it may, my angel, I risk all for one sweet word from that delectable mouth. Now I am here, pray to let me escort you to your door.’ He felt Freddie’s teeth on the back of his leg, nibbling gently. Dammit it to hell, the bugger was herding him. He jerked his head back, ‘Hah; I see yer dog is up to his tricks.’
‘Hmm yes, it looks like it. However, those fine kid leather boots are not fitted for such rough terrain my lord. You should turn back before these twisted roots mark them.’
Trying not to laugh, Sophia beckoned to the sheep dog. ‘Oh my apologies kind sir, it is his way of showing his affection. Freddie – Freddie sweetheart, come here.’
The Baron’s nose crinkled up, his smile, not quite a grimace, then opened his arms, ‘My dear girl; I cannot help it; I must just give you a hug; you are so precious, so—’
Freddie bit him on the buttock, as the odious Baron bore down on her.
Aghast, Sophia ran forward and grabbed the dog, whilst the Baron hopped around clasping his buttocks in pain. His red cheeks now crimson he spluttered ‘My breeches – my fine buckskin breeches. Really Miss Sophia, I … I … I really do think you….’ He twisted his head to see if Freddie had drawn blood, whilst Sophia alarmed, stood aside wide eyed.
‘Miss Sophia, pardon me, but would – would you see if he has drawn … blood?’
‘Oh my goodness, of course – of course.’ Sophia, not wishing to go too near his unmentionables, stuttered, ‘I … I can see from here; his teeth have torn through the buckskin. However, there is no blood. I fear my lord, you moved too fast toward me. I sincerely hope you can ignore this – this unfortunate occurrence.’
The Baron bared his teeth, now was his chance; the damn dog played right into his hands. ‘Only, my dear, if you do me the honour of dining with me this evening.’
Seeing her draw back, a frown appearing on that pure brow, he said slyly, ‘of course, I am willing to overlook this incident if you afford me the pleasure of your company, if not, then I ‘m afraid I ….’ He paused, his tone ominous. ‘My man regularly hunts in these woods. He is an excellent shot, but you should be on your guard.’ He grimaced, looking down at Freddie. Sophia felt her heart leap to her throat. He would kill him if she didn’t accept. ‘I … my lord you know tis not appropriate. I do not have recourse to a chaperone.’
‘Well – well bring your … your delightful sister, Patience, is it not?’
‘Why of course.’ Knowing she was trapped, and alarmed he could harm her dog; she nodded. Just this once, she would have to oblige him, if only to save her beloved Freddie. ‘Tis I who am honoured my lord. Patience and I will be happy to accept your most kind invitation.’
Huffing with pleasure, he took her hand, ‘I will send my carriage at seven of the hour this evening.’ He beamed, sister or not, t’would be easy to separate them. Once in the Manor House, she was his for the taking.