Codwell was correct. The palm appeared wilted, as though ill from too much alcohol. Elliott had felt the same on more mornings than he cared to count. Now, he did his best to dump the liquor rather than drink it so he didn’t feel as the plant obviously did.
“I have taken the liberty of placing a decorative pitcher on the side table and another beside the fireplace with the hopes that they will provide you with an alternative.”
Elliott nodded in amusement. “Well done, Codwell. We wouldn’t want to kill any plants, would we?”
“I believe that one was a gift from your grandmother. She would be disappointed with us if that occurred.”
Elliott chuckled. Codwell was right. Luckily, she didn’t come into the library often. He hoped she didn’t visit until the palm recovered.
A soft knock at the open door caught his attention.
Sophia cleared her throat. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but your grandmother is hoping for a word with you in her withdrawing room when you have a moment.”
Elliott stared at Sophia, wondering what she’d overheard. This proved that he needed her gone. Keeping secrets was no easy task, especially not with a curious, intelligent woman living in his house.
But he knew beyond a doubt he was going to miss her when she was gone.
Daphne looped her arm through Sophia’s as they walked along Bond Street. “I’m so pleased you suggested this outing.”
“When the countess requested I pick up a few things for her, I thought it would provide the perfect opportunity to spend time with you.” She smiled at her cousin. “Plus, I know you know the best places to find everything on my list.”
Daphne laughed. “Ah. The true reason is revealed. I am only here for your use.”
“That’s not true and you know it.”
“It’s quite all right. I have another purpose as well.”
“Do tell.” Spending time with Daphne and her sisters always brightened Sophia’s mood. She enjoyed their company. They reminded her how to relax and release her seriousness.
After only a few minutes in Daphne’s company, her worry eased. The tension between her and Elliott was starting to wear on her. Their constant battle of wits over the past few days was both invigorating and exhausting.
“I wanted to hear how you’re getting along with the earl.”
“What do you mean?” Sophia cursed the heat filling her cheeks.
“Come now, Sophia. You danced with him. You had a private moment on the terrace with him. You live with him. And he is a scoundrel. All of that adds up to something. Is he behaving himself or do you have to beat him away with a stick?”
The mischievous glint in her cousin’s eyes had Sophia laughing. “It’s a good thing I know you are jesting.”
“I’m serious. You’re an attractive single lady. He’s one of the ton’s most eligible bachelors, well known for his roguish ways. I have no doubt you are a temptation he has difficulty resisting.”
“Please. I’m his grandmother’s companion. What interest could he possibly have in me?” Other than to convince her to quit. In truth, she was hurt by the idea that he wanted her to leave—hurt enough that she decided against sharing it with Daphne.
Her plan to ignore his advances had been successful the past two days, but it didn’t change her disappointment at his wish for her to leave.
“Fine then. Keep your secrets.” Daphne lifted her chin, a teasing light in her eyes. “Obviously, we’re not as close as I thought.”
Sophia gave her a gentle push with their linked arms as they walked. “You are being ridiculous.”
If anyone had secrets it was Elliott. Though she hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, she’d heard Codwell’s comment about the palm in the library. The very one he’d been standing near the other night just before he’d refilled his glass. Had he truly poured his drink in it? Why would he want her to think he was over imbibing?
As she considered the matter, she became even more convinced there was more to the earl than met the eye. She vowed to watch him closer from now on to see what he was up to.
If she dared.
After all, watching him more risked increasing the attraction she already felt for him. Was she strong enough to resist it?
Daphne chuckled in response. “Very well then. If you’re not going to tell me anything exciting, let us proceed with our shopping. What is first on your list?”
With Daphne’s assistance, she purchased lace, buttons, and a different shade of red thread for the countess’s needlework project.
“Do you mind if we stop by the bookshop?” she asked her cousin. “A book we ordered came in.”
The bell of the shop tinkled as they entered. Sophia breathed in the slightly musty smell of books, loving the promise it represented. There hadn’t been bookshops in their small village in the country. It required great effort on her part to keep from wandering up and down the aisles to see what treasures awaited.
Concern for the countess kept her focused on her purpose. Sophia didn’t want to be gone long. The older woman seemed especially tired earlier and intended to rest while Sophia was gone. Sophia was anxious to make certain she was well.
The shopkeeper retrieved the book they’d ordered and slid it across the counter for her inspection. “Here it is.”
Sophia ran her gloved hand over the embossed, leather-bound cover in appreciation. She was looking forward to reading this and discussing it with the countess. “Yes, this is the one.”
“Truly? You’re going to read The Seven Curses of London?” Daphne asked as she picked up the book. At Sophia’s nod, she shook her head. “My sister, Lettie, talks about this book frequently.”
“Really? She liked it then?”
“She’s gone so far as to try to solve one of the problems the author notes. That’s how she and her husband met. At the foot of Blackfriars Bridge, where she was attempting to convince some of the young girls who worked in the factories to allow her to assist them.”
“How marvelous.” Sophia tried to imagine having the courage to do such a thing. “That is so brave. Do you think she would speak with me about it?”
Daphne narrowed her eyes. “You will lose at least an hour of your life by raising the subject. She’s impossible to stop once she starts.”
“Perhaps the countess would like to invite her to tea. I’m certain she’d enjoy hearing of your sister’s activities as well.”
“Do me the favor of not inviting me when that occurs. I have heard the stories too many times already.”
Sophia envied Daphne her large family. Though she knew Daphne sometimes felt she blended in with her sisters, loneliness would never be a problem with so many siblings.
After the shopkeeper wrapped the book and they departed, Sophia asked, “Do you ever have the desire to see if you can make a difference?”
Daphne was quiet for a long moment as they strolled along, her expression serious. “I confess the idea of another Season of the same balls and parties and musicals doesn’t hold the appeal it did last year. It all seems rather frivolous after you learn of the problems others face.”
“I can see why you might feel that way.”
Pausing on the walkway, Daphne added, “Please know that I mean no offense, but your life hasn’t been an easy one, has it? It sounds as if you and your mother and aunt got along on very little.”
“I didn’t mind going without so much as when Aunt Margaret made us feel guilty for taking pleasure in anything. Laughter was a rarity in our world after we went to live with her when Father died.” She realized now that her father was a combination of traits, not exclusively good or bad. Weren’t all people, including Elliott?
“I can’t imagine that.” Daphne shook her head. “I hope you are finding chances to enjoy your new life.”
“I count my blessings every day, and you are one of them.”
“I feel the same of you.” Daphne’s smile warmed her heart.
Sophia truly loved her new life and the people in i
t, but she knew she needed to tread carefully. The stakes were high, especially with Elliott.
Chapter Six
Elliott shrugged on his suit coat in the library, his thoughts on the evening ahead. He had to make an appearance at three different events followed by a meeting with a brothel madam, but first he had an appointment with two associates from the Intelligence Office.
His work over the past few days brought forth hints of an alarming plot by anarchists to send a bold message to the Empire. With luck and a little prodding of certain parties, he hoped to gain enough information about the anarchists’ plans to identify both their target and the timing of their attack.
The message he’d received earlier today from Gladstone advised that Her Majesty wanted an update on the situation. In order to prepare for that, he needed more details, hence the meetings.
There had been a time in his past when he would’ve reveled in the challenge of the night. But this evening, he only felt weary and worried. Weary of making the rounds, doing all he could to prevent a problem when another simmered on the horizon. Worried that despite all his efforts, innocent people would die as he hadn’t been clever enough to recognize the signs of what was to come.
He would much prefer an evening at home. His grandmother had been under the weather the past two days and that concerned him as well. Though she insisted it was nothing, the normal sparkle in her eyes had dimmed. He didn’t care for that.
“My lord?” Sophia’s quiet voice from the doorway caught his attention. Her hands were clasped before her, her expression solemn.
“How kind of you to see me off.” He gave a cocky grin as he strode toward her. He’d done his best the past few days to advance on her the rare times he saw her, renewing his efforts to encourage her to quit. Not that it seemed to be working.
She ignored his comment. “May I please have a moment of your time to speak with you about the countess?”
He dropped the façade without a second thought. “What is it? Has her condition worsened?”
“Perhaps not worsened, but I wonder if the doctor should see her.”
The worry in Sophia’s expression increased his own. “I spent a little time with her earlier. I suggested that as well, but she insists she only needs rest.”
“I was told the same.” She managed a smile but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“She seems to think the housekeeper’s homemade remedies are more helpful than anything the doctor would prescribe.”
Her gaze held his for a long moment. “I wanted to be certain you were aware of the situation before you left for the evening. I’m sure you’ll be quite late.”
The disapproval in her tone was undeniable. Rather than pleasing him, since that had been his goal of late, it only added to his guilt. Perhaps he should find a way to stay in this evening.
“My lord?” Codwell stood just behind Sophia. “The carriage is waiting.”
He felt pressed between two impossible responsibilities. His meeting with the other intelligence officers shouldn’t take long and was of vital importance. Perhaps one of them could assist him with his other commitments.
As though sensing his tension, Sophia stepped closer to reach out a hand to touch his arm, only to pull back. “I’ll do my best to keep watch over her. And I will notify Codwell if anything of significance occurs.”
For once, he was pleased she was here. How selfish of him to want her gone when he was rarely home. Why shouldn’t his grandmother have someone to keep her company? Certainly, she had friends who visited and she was always surrounded at social events, but her time at home should be just as enjoyable.
He hated to think of her as lonely. It bothered him more than he could say.
At the moment, none of that mattered. He’d have to wait until later to decide if he truly approved of Sophia staying. For now, he was grateful for her presence.
“I’m pleased you’re here to watch over her.” He could at least offer Sophia that. “I will return as soon as I can.”
Her lips pursed and her gaze dropped as she backed away and sank into a curtsy, as though placing both physical and emotional distance between them. He realized without a doubt he didn’t care for it.
She departed before he could say anything more.
“Will you please check on the ladies this evening, Codwell? If Grandmother doesn’t show signs of recovery by the morrow, we’ll send for the doctor.”
Codwell raised a brow. “I hope you’ll be the one to advise her of that. She won’t be pleased.”
“Have no fear. I will take the blame.” In short order, he was riding away in the carriage, but his thoughts remained at home.
“Shall I read more, my lady?” Sophia knew the countess’s interest in the new mystery they were reading had waned.
She seemed unable to rest, as though she couldn’t find a comfortable position. Her face was flushed, but she told Sophia she didn’t have a fever. In all honesty, the countess made a poor patient. She refused to admit anything was wrong.
“I believe I have heard enough for now.” She sighed and turned her head to look toward the window. A distant expression came over her face, making Sophia wonder what she was thinking.
“Can I get anything for you?”
“Do not fuss so, Sophia. I am merely under the weather, not dying.”
Sophia couldn’t help but smile. That sounded more like her usual self. “I am well aware of that. But I don’t care for it when you’re not feeling well. You are normally so vibrant.”
The countess chuckled. “My husband often used that word.”
“You must miss him terribly.” The countess spoke of the old earl fondly. They’d obviously enjoyed their life together. It was difficult for Sophia to appreciate such a thing from what little she remembered of her mother and father.
“Five years. I still miss him every day.” She turned to look at Sophia. “Elliott is very much like him.”
“No wonder the two of you are so close.”
“I’m sure that has something to do with it. He’s a good man, my Elliott. Just like his grandfather.” She chuckled again. “He plays the part of a scoundrel like my husband did.”
Sophia didn’t understand why the countess found that so amusing. Why wasn’t she angry that her husband had been a rogue and that Elliott followed the same path?
Something in her expression must’ve revealed her confusion, as the countess added, “Sometimes there is more to people than meets the eye.”
She met the countess’s gaze, wondering what she was trying to say. Unfortunately, she said nothing more, only giving Sophia an enigmatic smile. “I think I will rest for a time.”
“Shall I return to check on you? We could have supper here if you would like.”
“That would be nice.” Her eyes drifted closed, the hint of a smile still on her face.
Sophia left quietly, hoping sleep would prove restorative for the countess. She’d grown very fond of the woman and much preferred her previous vitality than the shadow she’d become the past few days.
Restless, Sophia remained in her room for a time then ventured down to advise Codwell of the arrangements for the evening meal. Next, she went to the library to find something to read to distract her from worrying.
As she perused the shelves, she was amazed once again at the variety as well as the organization of the books. Had Elliott collected them? Some were quite old while others were new. Books on farming techniques and land management. Classic Greek and Roman texts. Some so old she didn’t want to risk pulling them from the shelves for fear they might disintegrate.
The selection of fiction near Elliott’s desk by the windows offered new and old books, mysteries, romance, and adventure. The choices were overwhelming. Despite that, she couldn’t set aside her unease at invading Elliott’s personal space. He spent what little time he was at home in his library.
Well aware it would take an intriguing story to hold her attention this night, she took her time. She pulled down sev
eral books and set them on the desk to take a closer look. A note fell from between the pages of one, fluttering to the floor under the desk. Dismayed that she might have lost someone’s bookmark, she bent to retrieve it.
Something else caught her eye as she reached for the fallen message. Another missive was stuck in a narrow space, where the wood joined to form the inside corner of the desk.
Curious she tugged the note free and unfolded it before she thought twice. The writing had a masculine look to it. The note was brief, signed only by a single initial.
H.M. requests an update.
G.
What on earth did that mean? She shook her head, annoyed at herself. She shouldn’t be reading the notes, yet she couldn’t help but open the one that had fallen from the book.
The second missive was written in a feminine slant, the loops wider than the first note’s writing. The idea of it being from one of his many conquests made her hesitate, but her gaze swept over the words regardless.
A.
Additional details have arisen.
Meet me at my home this evening. Midnight.
L.H.
She reread the swooping letters. That didn’t sound like a simple rendezvous with a lover. Details? What sort of details? Heart racing as she cursed her inquisitive mind, she examined the other joints of the desk but did not open any drawers. That was a line she wouldn’t cross.
Nerves fluttering, she glanced at the door, expecting Elliott to stride into the room and berate her for spying on him. Yet no one entered. That didn’t slow her pounding pulse.
When the desk didn’t reveal anything further, she turned back to the books, doing a quick search of the volumes by tipping them toward her to see if any additional notes were hidden. She found nothing more on the shelves before her, so she moved along, randomly searching as she went.
Overcome by guilt, she soon gave up her quest. She wasn’t meant to spy—her nerves couldn’t take it. She returned to the desk, reading the notes one more time. What did they mean? Why had he saved them? Or was it simply that one had been used as a bookmark and the other had fallen?
Her Majesty’s Scoundrels Page 43
