The Temporary Betrothal

by Lily George

  He hailed a hackney with his wooden hand—funny how quickly the drivers halted when he used his prosthesis, though how anyone could see it through the driving rain was beyond him. He boosted Sophie inside and gave orders to the driver before climbing in and shutting the door.

  Sophie relaxed against the seat, her gold ringlets sparkling with raindrops. They gave her a fairy queen appearance, and he resisted the urge to brush the droplets off with his gloved fingertips. He sat up straight, pressing his back against the cushion, and stared down at the dusty floor. Looking up at her was too dangerous by far.

  “Ah, this is so much better. Thank you, Lieutenant.”

  He could not look up, so he merely shrugged. “It was your idea, after all.”

  “True.” She fell silent, and stared out the window. ’Twas a relief indeed not to have those luminous blue eyes settling on him. Sophie Handley was a most unnerving creature.

  He shifted around, and the letter in his pocket crackled once more. When he got back to his flat, he’d throw the dratted thing in the fire. It made a noise every time he moved, and each time it did so was yet another reminder that his family thought him a wretched failure.

  “Lieutenant, I cannot help but wonder if something is preying upon your mind. You seem so distracted.” He could no longer resist looking at her—a magnet was drawing him to her. “You helped me. Can I assist you in any way?”

  He started to shrug off her offer, but paused. Could Sophie Handley possibly help him out of this mess?

  “I—uh.” Charlie coughed, clearing his throat. “I had a letter from home, and it’s all I have been able to think on this morning. Even when I was working with the veterans as I was earlier in the day, my mother’s words have captured my full attention. I apologize that I am so distracted.”

  “Not at all, Lieutenant.” Sophie clasped her hands in her lap and regarded him evenly. “Letters from home can be welcome, or they can serve to remind you why you left home in the first place.”

  He surprised himself by laughing aloud. How very true that was. And nicely put, too. “Indeed.”

  “My sister Harriet’s letters are always so didactic. ‘Do this. Don’t do that.’ I know she means well, but it becomes tiresome to be lectured to in such a fashion.” She smiled, her lips turning up mischievously at the corners, highlighting her dimples once more. “Of course, with a letter, you can always fling it in the fire. This makes it a much more pleasant way to receive lectures than standing there in person, taking orders.”

  He chuckled. He had not been able to laugh about his family to anyone except himself in ages. And laughing to oneself was a bitter, hateful thing. Sharing the trials of family life with Sophie warmed his heart—he did not feel so utterly alone anymore. He glanced up at her once more. The droplets of rain had dried on her curls, but she still had that air of starriness about her. Some women just had that gift of grace, and Sophie was one of the lucky few.

  She returned his frank regard, tilting her head to one side. “So, Lieutenant, if we are sharing confidences, you might tell me what your mother wrote that has so plagued you. Perhaps, as a fellow sufferer, I can think of a way to help.”

  He hesitated. He had never spoken to anyone about his mother and brother’s demands before. Not even his best friend, John Brookes, knew how much animosity existed between himself and his family members. But why not confide in Sophie? He really had no idea what to do with his mother and brother, and Sophie might be able to advise him, especially as one far removed from the family and its dynamics.

  He withdrew the letter from his greatcoat pocket and held it, running his thumb over the broken wax seal. “As you might know, I work a great deal with the veterans in Bath. This has been my life’s work since I returned from Waterloo. But my mother and brother both detest the way I live. My mother wants me to marry and have a family. Robert wants me to return to Brightgate and help him with managing all my family’s business affairs.” He sighed, picking at the wax with his thumbnail. “I have no desire to do either. My work is very important to me. I wish they would understand.”

  Sophie nodded, her ringlets bouncing. “Yes, I know just how you feel. When I chose to come to Bath and work as a seamstress for Lord Bradbury, Harriet and John were very uncertain of the wisdom of my choice. Fortunately, I was able to convince them both that living at home would in no way make me a more independent person. After Mama died, I wanted to be more than another girl on the marriage mart, looking for a husband. It’s all I was groomed for, but when my family’s fortunes collapsed and Papa and Mama died, I decided I needed to strike out on my own. And so I have.”

  The carriage slowed as they turned onto the Crescent. He could just glimpse the well-matched and imposing facades of the most expensive townhomes in Bath—very different from his own two-room flat on Beau Street. Sophie sensed the carriage’s impending halt, and began to gather her things.

  “I shall think of a solution to your problem, Lieutenant,” she informed him in a confident tone. “Just allow me to think on it overnight. I am sure there is a way you can respond to her letter without relinquishing your work with the veterans, or leaving Bath.”

  The carriage door opened, and the driver helped Sophie alight. Charlie flung the letter onto the seat and followed, opening his umbrella over her head just as the rain pelted them once again. “I shall return in a moment,” he called to the driver as he followed Sophie up the path toward the house.

  Sophie turned and headed for the front door. Was she given special privileges as a seamstress? Most servants and maids entered through the back door. As they neared the front portico, he grabbed her elbow. “Miss Handley? Shouldn’t we go around to the back?”

  She stopped short, and the package she held toppled to the ground. He bent and retrieved it before the rain and mud could do much damage. “Here,” he murmured, extending it to her with his wooden hand.

  She shook her head as though clearing cobwebs from her mind. “I haven’t left the house much, so I forget. Thank you for reminding me.” She held her head high and accepted the package, tucking it under one arm. Then she took his elbow once more, saying nothing as he led her back down the path and around the large stone mansion.

  Even from the exterior, everything about Lord Bradbury’s home spoke of wealth and privilege. Priceless lace curtains graced every window, and he could just pick out a glorious chandelier sparkling in one of the rooms as they passed by. It was no wonder that his lordship could afford to hire a seamstress to work as a personal modiste for his two young daughters. Why, Charlie was no member of the haute monde, but even he knew that Bradbury spoiled his daughters shamelessly, doting on each one after their mother’s passing just a few years before.

  They rounded the corner and went through the back gate. The garden was budding out in lilies and irises, flowers that nodded heavily in the pouring rain. He helped Sophie up the back steps and took down his umbrella momentarily, as the porch roof offered ample shelter.

  He prepared to touch his hat and take his leave, but Sophie halted his progress. “You rescued me twice today,” she teased in that same lilting voice that enchanted him before. “You saved me from the wind and the rain, and then you saved me from blundering my way in the front door. There must be some way I can repay the favor. I will give your situation careful thought, and come up with a solution.” She withdrew from his side and smiled up at him. “Do you meet with the veterans again soon?”

  He blinked rapidly, clearing his mind from the webs of coquetry she spun around his senses. “Yes. I planned to go Thursday morning, after I have attended to a few matters at home.”

  “Perfect. Then I shall come with you. I can get started on my work with the widows, and tell you of my solution to your problem. How does that sound?”

  He bowed. “It sounds fine to me, but won’t your employer take exception to your absence?”

  Sophie smiled and patted his shoulder. A tingle shot through him at her touch, and he moved a fraction of an inch cl
oser, wanting more of her magic, more of her charm. “Thursday is my day off, Lieutenant. I am at my leisure all day. I shall look forward to spending it with you, if you don’t mind me tagging along as you work with the veterans.”

  “Not at all. Shall I call for you around ten o’clock? We can walk together, and that way you won’t get lost.” He didn’t mean for the last bit of what he said to sound quite so teasing, but Sophie grinned and chuckled.

  “I shan’t get lost so easily once I learn the buildings and my routes,” she replied in a saucy tone. “I shall expect you Thursday at ten, Lieutenant.”

  He bowed and held the door open for Sophie as she disappeared into Lord Bradbury’s rambling townhome. Then he put up his umbrella and strolled out to the hackney carriage, waiting patiently on the curb.

  Funny how one chance meeting with Sophie Handley had changed his whole afternoon. What had felt tragic and utterly insurmountable this morning now seemed a mere trifle. A joke. Something the two of them could chuckle over. His steps, so leaden earlier in the day, now had a definite spring to them. He leaped back into the carriage bound for Beau Street. As they rolled toward home, he tucked his mother’s letter in his greatcoat pocket and gave it a satisfied pat.

  It was good—very good—to have an ally in the war against his family.

  Chapter Two

  Mrs. Wiggs was in the kitchen as Sophie entered. Judging from the delicious smells emanating from the oven, she was baking bread. Sophie set her parcel down on the long oak table that the other servants dined at every night, and stretched her hands to the hearth’s blaze. She was soaking wet through and chilled to the bone, but a glow warmed her heart. She could not stop smiling, even as miserable as the cold and damp should make her feel.

  “Bless my soul, don’t you look a sight? Nancy, run upstairs and fetch something warm and dry for Miss Sophie—there’s a good gel.” The housekeeper dried her hands on her apron and shooed one of the kitchen maids upstairs. “Whatever happened to you?”

  “I got lost on the way to the haberdashers, and it began pouring,” Sophie replied with a chuckle. “Of course, in my haste to get the buttons and return home, I neglected to bring a parasol.”

  The housekeeper made a tsking sound under her breath, and stirred up the fire. “I best make you some tea, or you’re likely to catch your death.”

  A commotion sounded in the hallway, and two young ladies burst through the door, giggling and talking breathlessly over one another. “Sophie, you’re back. Did you find some buttons for me?” Amelia, the elder of the two Bradbury daughters, danced over to the table, seizing the parcel and clasping it to her bosom.

  “Amelia, can’t you see she’s soaking wet? Poor Sophie, are you quite all right?” Louisa, the younger and gentler of the two girls, laid her head on Sophie’s damp shoulder.

  “I am quite all right, thank you, my dear. It was a bit of an adventure, actually.” Sophie gladly accepted a steaming cup of tea from Mrs. Wiggs, and spooned sugar in it while she waited for the brew to cool down a bit.

  “Girls? Where are you?” Lucy Williams, governess to the Bradbury family, called from down the hall.

  “In here!” the two imps chorused, and Sophie couldn’t stifle a smile as she stirred her tea. The girls delighted in provoking dear Lucy, who proved to be quite a good sport about it all. Lucy strode through the kitchen door, planting her fists on both hips.

  “Really, I turn my back for one moment and find you in the kitchen,” she scolded. “Is that proper behavior for two young ladies?”

  “I don’t know if it’s proper or not, but the kitchen is the most interesting room in the house,” Amelia replied smartly. “Aside from your rooms, and Sophie’s, of course.”

  “I agree,” Louisa chirped, flipping a long brown curl over one shoulder. “Here, we can steal biscuits and tea. In your rooms, we can loll around on the beds and talk nonsense.”

  “Well, be that as it may, you two must fall into line. Your father returns later this week, and I must have at least a semblance of order and discipline. For his sake, if for no other reason.”

  Sophie choked, the hot tea burning a path down her throat. Lord Bradbury planned to come home from London this week? She’d had no idea it would be so soon. For the two weeks she had been in Bath, no one had given any indication that his lordship would be in residence at all.

  “Are you all right?” Amelia patted her back with a few solid whacks.

  “Y-yes,” Sophie spluttered, trying to take a deep breath. “I—was surprised—that’s all.”

  “Surprised about Papa? Don’t be, Sophie. He’s such a dear. You’ll love him,” Louisa assured her as she took the biscuit tin down from the larder.

  “Yes, he is,” Amelia added, helping herself to a few biscuits. “He’s been so good to us all. We quite adore him. No need to be alarmed, Sophie. He’ll take one look at you and be satisfied.”

  “I don’t want him to be satisfied with me—I want him to be satisfied with my work. It’s a very different thing,” Sophie admonished, draining the last sugary drops from her teacup. Thus fortified, she turned to Lucy. “I haven’t had very much time to begin my work. I’ve only just cut the pieces for Amelia’s riding habit.”

  “I would not worry,” Lucy assured her, an encouraging smile lighting her brown eyes. “His lordship is very just and fair, and he knows you’ve only been in residence for a fortnight. I am certain all will be well.”

  “Even so.” Sophie rose, shaking out her still-damp skirts. “I would feel better if I accomplished a bit more before his lordship returns. Come, Amelia, let us retire to the sewing room. I need to see if these buttons meet with your approval. They were hard-won notions, after all I’ve been through today.” And though they were hard won, they were well worth the effort. Lieutenant Cantrill, with his lean angular face and velvety eyes, drifted across her mind. ’Twould be difficult indeed to keep her mind on her sewing today. But if she wanted to impress his lordship, and keep her position as a seamstress, she had better try to banish the lieutenant from her thoughts—at least until after supper, when she could turn her mind toward his most fascinating problems, and how she might be able to solve them.

  Chapter Three

  A knock sounded on the sewing-room door. “Enter,” Sophie called. Perhaps it was one of the servants to bring her breakfast on a tray.

  Instead, her dear friend Lucy poked her head around the doorjamb. “Oh, good. You’re alone. I thought perhaps the girls would be with you.”

  “No, I think they are still having their breakfasts. Why do you ask?” Sophie tossed aside Amelia’s riding jacket and rubbed her hands together. Working the buttonholes in that stiff wool played havoc with her manicure. Besides, a good gossip with Lucy always broke up the monotony of the day.

  “Something’s happened. You’ve been distracted and vague since you returned from shopping yesterday. And you barely said two words throughout supper last night. What is the matter?” Lucy sank down on the settee beside her, a grin crooking one corner of her mouth.

  “I met someone.” Had she really seemed distracted? To the point that her absentmindedness was obvious to others? Well, she had been thinking about the lieutenant, after all.

  “Really?” A broad smile crept across Lucy’s face. “Is it someone I know? You must tell me everything.”

  “No. His name is Lieutenant Charlie Cantrill.” Saying his name aloud was difficult. It sounded so dignified and so...real, when spoken aloud. “He is a good friend of my family’s, and he rescued me when I got lost on the way to Guildhall Market. I literally bumped into him as I was trying to find my way.”

  “Lieutenant Cantrill?” The governess’s brows drew together, and she looked off into space. “Why is his name so familiar to me? For I don’t know him, but I have heard of him.”

  “He does a lot of work with the veterans of Waterloo,” Sophie added. “I am to help him work with the widows of some of the men who fell during the battle.”

  “No, that’
s not it. There was some scandal when he returned from the war—”

  “Scandal?” Sophie’s heart leaped in her breast, and she leaned forward, grasping Lucy’s hands. “Do tell!”

  “I’m trying to remember. Something happened. I think he was engaged to one girl and then the engagement was broken when he returned. As I recall, she was rather well-placed in Society, so it was a bit of a to-do.” Lucy smiled ruefully. “But since I don’t frequent those social circles, I cannot recall much more than that.”

  Sophie sat back. Well, this was interesting. Perhaps Cantrill was a bit of a black sheep. That made him infinitely more intriguing. “Did he cry off? Or did the lady?”

  Lucinda shrugged her shoulders. “I cannot recall.”

  Why, this added an entirely new dimension to his character. Perhaps his moodiness and serious disposition was a mask for his true character. Maybe he was even a bit of a rake, despite his charitable work. Sophie stifled a laugh at the thought.

  “I would watch myself around him, you know,” the governess admonished. “Until we know the truth of what happened, you should be on your guard.”

  “I am to meet with him tomorrow,” Sophie replied, her eyes widening at the thought. “I can’t miss it. I promised my sister I would help with his work with the widows. The lieutenant is my brother-in-law’s closest friend.”

  Lucinda nodded. “If he is a friend of your family, then perhaps there is no need for caution.”

  Sophie nodded. “Do you know, I promised the lieutenant I would come up with a solution to a problem he has, since he was so kind as to rescue me yesterday. But I must confess that, even though I have been pondering it, I have no idea what to do to help.”

  Lucy shrugged. “Tell me. Perhaps we can come up with a plan together.”

  “Well, his family is very concerned with status and his place in Society. His mother wrote that he must give up his work with the veterans and look for a wife. His brother has ordered him to return to Brightgate and assume some of the responsibilities of the family estate.” She sighed. “I understand how the lieutenant must feel. I struck out on my own, and though Harriet supported me, she was reluctant to let me come to Bath at first.”