A Chance Encounter

Chapter 2

The ride across town would have been pleasant if it were not for Latenbury's incessant chatter, pointing out every house and passer by. He seemed to be aware of the whereabouts and going's on of the entirety of London's high society. "There is a ball this evening, to mark the opening of the season. You must attend, I'll call for you so you have no excuse" Antony was saying, Richard was barely listening as his townhouse drew nearer. The tall white structure stood proud against the drab brick neighbouring properties, a smart black front door surrounded by unruly purple wisteria in bloom. "Fine, fine" Richard nodded, eager to escape his friend, "take the carriage home, you can return in it this evening" keen not to have Antony follow him in to his home he hopped down and assisted Bakewell - who had hurried down the steps to unload his bags, rapping on the back of the carriage with his cane to send it on it's way. 

Richard had managed to rally a few members of staff to help ready the house. As it had not been occupied since his departure to Scotland it was beginning to look rather dated inside. "I'm sure it can be spruced up with a lick of paint and a woman touch m'lord, that is why you are 'ere is it not?" Enquired Mrs Bakewell. His housekeeper was a short and motherly woman who had worked for his father for many years. She was a fountain of knowledge regarding the ongoings of the ton, known for her incessant chatting and prying eyes. Richard knew that the news of his return would travel through half the kitchens of London by the end of the day. 

"Come now, leave the poor Duke, he's only just arrived and you're already trying to get answers" Mr Bakewell reprimanded his wife and shooed her towards the kitchen. "I do apologise Sir, she's been a bit bored these past three years with no goings on around 'ere you see" Bakewell commented as they made their way up the grand staircase towards his room. "Beg your pardon Sir, but we have set up the master suite for you, we didn't realise you'd be wanting your old chambers back" Richard paused at the door to his old room, he realised he was no longer the young and free heir he once was, he was now the Duke and would be expected to take over his parents bed chamber and his place within society.

"It's quite alright. Just get me out of these blasted clothes. A bath is required immediately" Richard traipsed across the hall to his fathers room. As though Bakewell had read his mind, bath lay drawn in the centre of the rug by the unlit hearth. Richard discarded his clothes as he made his way across the room. Slipping down into the tepid water of the bath he sighed, closing his eyes. He couldn't help but picture a set of vivid blue orbs staring back at him. He shook his head, trying to conjure the image of Lizzy, his bonny Scottish maid who had been warming his bed these past few years, but her brown eyes appeared dull and her once fiery red hair was now replaced by a brilliant blonde, as he imagined it splayed across his pillows. Richard roared with annoyance, sloshing his way out of the bath tub, "why should this little chit bother me so" he pondered aloud. Richard had known his fair share of women and prior to his departure to Scotland he could have quite easily had any debutante he wanted, maybe he had just been away from home for too long.  

He observed his form in the mirror. He stood roughly 6ft 2inches tall, his physique was toned and his long legs muscular from riding around his estate. His broad shoulders and well chiselled arms had been a new found perk of working on the estate rather than gallivanting around London and he found the change had suited him, his skin had darkened from his time in the sun giving him a bronze glow which stopped at the waist of his britches. He swept his dark hair back from his eyes, a habit he was now growing accustom to, he needed a trim but his valet had not been able to travel with him and would be arriving within the week. 

"Bakewell!" he roared. Richard threw himself down onto his large bed, the emerald green sheets soft beneath his skin, he looked around the faded room, the green and cream striped wall paper peeling slightly in the corners, the drab furniture was well worn and in need of change. Bakewell appeared in the doorway "Yes, my lord?" 

"Find me a damn barber" Richard requested, running his hand through his hair. 

"Well as luck would have it Sir, a new shop opened up just last week" Bakewell grinned. 

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Sophia was glad to be back in London. The noise of the city hummed outside her bedroom window, she could hear the carriages rolling past and relished in the joy that the season was once again beginning and she could use this to show off her latest fashions from Paris. 

"Miss, shall I set to work on your hair now? It must be perfect for tonight" Emily, her lady's maid asked. Emily was a shy girl with mousy brown hair, at around 17 she was small for her age and with her slender frame could still pass for a child. Her mother had worked in the kitchens for Lady Charlotte for a number of years and it seemed only fitting that the girl should work for Sophia when they both came of age. 

"Oh no, just a simple up-do please, I'm off out" Sophia replied, hoping she sounded nonchalant. "And where do you think you're going? You best not be thinking of that vile hair salon, you'll be riddled with lice before the ball! Then whatever shall we do!" cried her mother from the doorway. Lady Charlotte was prone to hysterics and Sophia sighed, she knew her mother would not approve but she had managed to secure an appointment at the very hair salon her mother denounced, that had opened across town. She knew of them from Paris and the Americas and was keen to be one of the first to try it out. Many of the socialites had deemed them vulgar and common however Sophia was intrigued by the notion and desperate to make her appointment. 

"Do let me go Mama, you know how my fashions draw the eye, think of how all the other Mama's will be too focused on discussing my hair to realise that Bea has stolen the attention of the best gentlemen in the room with your fair guidance" Lady Charlotte pondered the notion for a moment. Sophia could see her plan was working, with her mother thinking of the eligible men that would be an advantageous match for Beatrice. "Well nothing too outlandish child, you don't want to tarnish our reputation by engaging in such vulgar activities, gallivanting around town, Miss Emily shall accompany you for proprieties sake and you must study your miniatures in the carriage" she eyed her suspiciously. 

"Mama, do you not think I would not know every member of London's society, let alone the eligible men!" Sophia groaned "It is not my first season after all" 

"Do not remind me!" Cried Lady Charlotte "I am well aware this is your third and should you not find a husband this year you will be reliant upon your sister and set to become a spinster! Oh what shall become of us!" Her mother pressed her hand to her chest and fanned herself as she fell into a nearby chair dramatically. 

"I shall review the miniatures Mama" Sophia rolled her eyes as her mother jumped up excitedly "Good, now do look out for Lord James, his father is rather unwell I hear and should you take a fancy to him he may be a Duke before the year is out!" 

"Mama!! Do not be so crass!" Sophia admonished "Well one has to think of these things my dear. You will one day understand when you have daughters of your own"  Her mother laughed.

Sophia donned her cloak and hat and headed down the stairs for the door with Emily in tow. She hopped in the carriage that had been brought around for them, glad of the shade and escape from the blistering heat of the day. As she pulled away she saw another carriage arriving, leaning out of the window Sophia managed a glimpse of her brother arriving home, how strange she thought, as she did not recognise the crest on the door. 

The thought soon vanished as Sophia ducked back inside and began to ponder the salon and what it must be like. She had envisioned multiple hair styles in hopes they would be able to achieve something of the sort. She titled her head back against the plush seat and sighed as they passed through the cobbled streets of London, she watched as people scurried about quick to avoid the sun, many a parasol shading the faces of those who wished to evade the chance of freckles tarnishing their fair skin. 

The carriage rolled to a stop outside a fine boutique shop, the exterior was painted a pale lilac and a sign 'Salon de Coiffure' hung above the door. Sophia was intrigued to find 'Mesdames et Messieurs' painted delicately on the window indicating their services served both genders. "Ah, now I see why this establishment is so scandalous" Sophia commented. Emily looked appalled that Sophia was subjecting herself to this gossip shop when she could have achieved any style - or there about - from the comfort of her bedroom. 

"Come on" Encouraged Sophia "We're here now we may as well go in" She said as she marched up the steps, swinging the door open as a bell alerted the occupants of their arrival.