by Hilly Mason
Discuss it? We are leaving room for discussion? Sophia thought wildly as the man left.
Did he actually want her to stay at Ramsbury?
Chapter Nine
It seemed as though she was never going to recover, but when she did she had to pinch herself a few times to make sure she hadn’t actually died and turned into a ghost. The fever abated, and the persistent cough became manageable and less frequent. On a sunny morning she and Joyce went out on a walk around the lake by Ramsbury. The shimmering morning sky made the water look as though it were filled with diamonds. A family of swans glided across the surface in a meditative dance. Reeds grew along the banks as well as around a small bench that stood next to a sprawling rowan tree; a perfect spot for setting up an easel and working on a watercolor.
It is a nice place to live, Sophia admitted to herself. And a lovely place to grow up in, sheep and all.
As they made to return to the house, Sophia spotted the young Annie St. George swinging on a chair attached to an old oak tree. Isabel was nearby, sitting in the shade as she mended the girl’s clothing. When she spotted the two women walking toward her, Annie dug her heels into the dirt to stop the swing, kicking up a good amount of dust and sending her brown hair flying forward.
“Who are you?” she blurted out, brushing her hair away from her face.
“My name is Sophia Gibbs, and this is Joyce.”
“Are you my governess?” Annie asked.
Sophia glanced at Isabel, who was now staring at her directly, eyebrows raised.
“It is not set in stone yet.”
“Come along, milady,” Isabel said. “Let’s have lunch.”
Annie stood up from the swing and made to follow Isabel, but then stopped. She turned to Sophia, holding out a small, wooden cup with a ball attached to a string.
“Can you show me how to play this?” Annie asked.
Sophia smiled and knelt by the child. “May I see it?” She held out her hand and the girl dropped the toy into the outstretched palm. “Ah, yes. I used to have one of these when I was a young girl. You have to flick your hand while holding the cup to try to get the ball inside. Watch.”
With rapt attention, the girl watched, and cheered when, on the third try, the ball went thunk! into the wooden cup.
“Lemme try!”
“Milady, we need to leave at once.”
Sophia hid a smile as the girl rolled her eyes at Isabel. “All right.” she pocketed her toy and glanced about, her face suddenly pinched with alarm.
“Wait. I can’t find Dolly!”
“Dolly is probably upstairs in your room,” Isabel told her impatiently. “Come along.”
“No, she’s not. I had her with me when we were walking.” Tears welled up in Annie eyes. “I can’t leave her alone.”
“It’s all right, milady,” Sophia said. “I will help you find her.”
“You will?”
“Of course. Now, where did you two go today?”
“I’ll show you.”
To Sophia’s surprise, Annie grabbed her hand and led her down the pathway toward Ramsbury Lake, leaving the startled Isabel and Joyce behind.
“I don’t like Isabel,” the girl confided, once they were out of earshot. “She’s not nice.”
Sophia didn’t know what to say without agreeing with her. Instead, she steered the topic back to their mission.
“Is there a place you usually take Dolly to when you go on a walk?”
Annie nodded and pointed. “Over to the bench. We like to watch the swans and the ducks swim about.”
There were three ducks hanging around by the bench when they reached it; one was swimming idly in the water while the other two were pruning their feathers with their bills. They looked up at the couple as they approached, but quickly went back to their routine, obviously used to having humans nearby.
“Well, she couldn’t have gone off too far,” Sophia said to Annie. “She does have small legs, after all.”
“I walked over here to follow one of the ducks,” Annie told her. She went over to a clump of reeds and poked her head into the foliage. “No. Not here.”
“There’s a log right next to the edge of the water,” Sophia said, pointing. “Did you go over there?”
Annie’s eyes lit up. “I did!” she said and ran on her short legs (much like a doll) over to the log. She walked around it and let out a squeal of delight.
“Sophia! I found her!” she exclaimed, and waved the porcelain doll into the air in victory. She then walked back over to the bench and sat down, fussing over the doll’s clothes, which were lightly stained with dirt.
“A little soap and water will clean that right up,” Sophia reassured the girl as she sat down next to her. The three ducks, perhaps not enjoying the shrieks of a toddler, waded into the water and drifted off with the fourth.
“I only have Dolly to play with,” Annie explained, smoothing the dolls hair. “I try to get Isabel to play with me, but she never wants to.”
The poor girl, Sophia thought. “You do not invite anyone over to play with you?”
Annie shook her head. “No. Ever since m-mama died. We haven’t had any children come over.”
“Well I can play with you, if you like. I don’t have my own doll, but...” She picked a pansy blossom from the ground and tucked it into Dolly’s hair. “I do like to play a bit of dress up.”
Annie smiled, revealing a set of teeth as tiny as pearls. “Can we make a flower garland?” she asked hopefully.
“Of course!”
Later, after Annie came in for a nap and Sophia was walking back to her room, she noticed a woman standing at the top of the stairs. She resembled Alex with her dark hair and square chin, but her eyes were hazel instead of an almost-pitch brown. It took her a moment to recognize her as Alex’s sister, Diana. The last time she had seen her was well before Diana’s first season. But now she was much older, and her eyes mirrored those of the servants—cold and distrusting.
Well, I might as well be polite.
“Lady St. George, it’s lovely to see you again.”
“I know what you’re trying to do,” Diana said caustically.
“Excuse me?”
“I know you are trying to win back my brother, after all that has happened with Lord Gibbs,” she said, frowning. “I am not going to let you do that to him.”
“I don’t know what you have heard about me,” Sophia said slowly, “but none of it is true.”
Rather than trying to reason with the young woman, she pushed past her to continue on to her bedroom. No matter, she was on her way out anyway, and soon she would not have to deal with this family ever again.
Later that evening, after she had taken supper in her room with Joyce, a servant poked her head through the half-opened door.
“Master St. George requests your presence in his study.”
Sophia glanced at Joyce in surprise. “I suppose he wants to talk about what I am to do here,” she said as she took one last bite of her food. “And I shall tell him that I will leave once we find another place to go.”
Joyce sighed. “I rather like it here,” she said wistfully. “But if we must leave...”
“You can always ask if you could stay.”
Joyce shook her head. “You know I won’t stay,” she said, smiling. “And besides, they are over-staffed as it is, with it only being Lord St. George and his sister and daughter living here. They would not have any use for me. If it weren’t for you, I would probably be told to leave.”
After eating, Sophia freshened up in her dressing room and went downstairs to Alex’s study. He was sitting at his desk, his long body bent over some papers he was scribbling at with his pen. He looked striking in his crisp gray waistcoat, single-breasted, over a white muslin shirt, the collar reaching up to his chin. He wore trousers in a darker gray; before he had noticed Sophia his long legs were stretched out underneath the table, but once he caught sight of her, he tucked his legs back in under the table a
nd straightened.
“Lady Gibbs,” he began, standing up and bowing slightly. “It is good to see that you are well.”
“I thank you for your hospitality,” Sophia said formally as she sat down. A servant set up a tray of tea. She couldn’t help but notice the way the servant glared at her, perhaps wondering why Sophia, now a servant herself, was allowed to have tea with the master of Ramsbury.
“I suppose we are here to talk business,” Sophia said, sipping her hot tea. “And I will come right out and say that my maid, Joyce, and I are looking at listings in the newspaper and will be out of your way soon enough.”
“It will be difficult to find a place though, wouldn’t it?” Alex observed, frowning. “You used a fictitious name when you applied here at Ramsbury. And I am sure I am not the only place you applied to. You must have worried about receiving rejections if you were to use your actual name. Am I correct?”
Sophia’s face flushed and she lowered her head. “Yes,” she admitted.
“And if nobody accepts you, where then will you go? You do have family in London, don’t you? Was it your uncle and aunt that you lived with before you were married?”
Sophia noticed the sneer when he said the word “married.” She wrapped her arms around her body as though it were a protective shield. Her lower lip quivered.
“They do not want me.”
Briefly, the hard look on his face lifted. “Why? What happened?”
“I do not want to talk about it.”
“So you have been on your own ever since your husband’s death?”
“Yes.”
“Where would you go, then?” he asked again, a bit more gently this time.
“I can work at the apothecary again, if I need to.”
“I will not allow that. That place made you ill.”
“Excuse me, Lord St. George. The last time I checked, you were not my husband or relative. You have no say in what I do with my life.”
“No,” he replied. “But you work for me. I wouldn’t let anyone under my roof leave without a place to go to.”
“You could give me Comerford House back,” Sophia said sarcastically. “Then I would have somewhere to go.”
“That is not an option.”
“Alex,” Sophia said, exasperated, not realizing that she had used his first name. “Why in the world do you want me to stay here?”
Had he any notion how being so close to him was breaking her heart?
“I want you to tutor Annie. My daughter seems to be taken with you.”
“How do you know this?”
“I watched you while you two were playing. And after she came back in she couldn’t stop talking about how exciting it was when you helped her find her beloved doll. I haven’t seen her so happy since before...” He faltered, and then cleared his throat. “Have you worked with children before?”
“I used to volunteer at an orphanage when I lived in Calcutta,” Sophia replied. “I do very much enjoy working with children.”
“That’s right. I remember you telling me about that long ago.”
“I think she misses having a female in the house,” Sophia said, and then flushed. “I don’t mean to be so forward.”
“No, it’s quite true. She has been lonely lately.”
So, was this all just for Annie? Was she selfish for thinking that Alex still dwelled on the past like she did?
“I don’t know...”
“I will pay you one thousand a year.”
Sophia’s eyes widened. She almost dropped her teacup. “One thousand?” she repeated. “You cannot be serious.”
“Yes, I am serious.”
Ah yes, owning gaming clubs must’ve made Alex one of the richest men she’d ever laid eyes on. That could be the only explanation for such an offer.
“How is it that you became a gamester?” she asked him.
He gave her a lazy smile. “After I got married, I decided I had no interest following my father’s footsteps. I wanted to do something more than just waltzing in and out of parties while collecting my tenants’ rent. So, I started investing in the gaming clubs.”
“How many do you own?”
“I own four of them in London, and have a new one in Liverpool.”
Sophia nodded politely, but her insides turned cold. She struggled to sip her tea as her hands were shaking terribly.
“Did you know of my late husband’s misfortune?” she asked him quietly, unable to meet his eyes.
“He frequented my halls, yes. And I knew of his outstanding debt. But those were not in my own establishments. I did not kill your husband, if that is what you are wondering.”
Sophia nodded mutely, and Alex shrugged. “But of course, there are places who do hire a marksman to take care of things. For me, I like to handle things with a good, old-fashioned duel. Poison, however, is usually the murder weapon of choice for a lady.”
“Who would—” Sophia began, and then stopped as her flush turned bright red. Lord Gibbs frequented many bordellos.
“Maybe he killed himself.” Alex said dismissively.
“I hardly think he killed himself.”
“Well, it’s one way to avoid repaying a large debt.”
Sophia narrowed her eyes at the man. The cup in her hands now shook with her anger. “You may not be the reason I’m in this position, but you are what is holding me back from happiness. I demand that you give me my house back. It would be sacrilegious to defile it by turning it into a gaming hell!”
Alex threw his head back and laughed. “Sacrilegious, you say? That’s a bit of an exaggeration. But you were always one to overreact. Do you remember convincing me that I had cheated a game of piquet because I had won? You wouldn’t speak to me for the rest of the night!”
“No,” Sophia lied. “I do not remember that.”
Alex rolled his eyes at her. “Believe me, it wasn’t the first time you did that. And anyway, Comerford was never yours to begin with. The house belonged to Lord Gibbs. You only slept under its roof. Perhaps you can purchase it from me when you marry another earl.”
“You are insufferable,” she hissed. Never mind what she thought about Alexander St. George before; he was an ungrateful, bitter, and selfish man.
“Not as insufferable as you, Sophia.”
She made to slap him, but Alex quickly caught her wrist and pulled her near him, his dark eyes blazed into her own. She could feel his breath ticking her neck. His body smelled of the outdoors: the smoke from chimneys, spring grass, and the woodsy scent of Ramsbury.
“Just think about it,” he said hoarsely. Her body tensed as he spoke, his words vibrating into her bones. He then released her arm.
Once free, she turned on her heel and quickly left.
“One thousand pounds!” he called after her teasingly.
Damn him!
Sophia almost ran into Joyce as she went into her room. Joyce was holding a platter of cold meats and fruit, and it would have gone flying if she hadn’t jumped out of the way just in time.
“Well, now,” Joyce said, recovering herself. “What on Earth happened out there?”
Sophia stalked over to the window and stared outside. The idyllic scenery once again looked unwelcoming and choking.
“Alex is not a murderer, but a rakish brute.”
Joyce placed the tray of food down at the table. Sophia sat down and picked up a grape, popping it into her mouth.
He almost kissed me.
“So, you plan to leave then?”
Sophia chewed the juicy morsel and swallowed. “Well...” she began, remembering the large sum of money Alex had offered her. “He is to pay me one thousand a year if I am to stay as a governess.”
Joyce’s eyes almost popped out of her head with astonishment. “Then how can you refuse? With that money you could save up to move to your own place in no time.”
But I want Comerford... and London, Sophia thought, knowing she was acting like a petulant child—as Miss Baxter had scathingly point
ed out to her. She cared not. She would take the job offer, but she would also find a way to win back Comerford House in the meantime. She was not going to let Alex win that easily.
Chapter Ten
Sophia lay in her bed, the covers pulled up to her chin. Her bed was facing the large windows, one of which was opened just a crack. A warm breeze billowed in, causing the curtains to sway gently like the branches of a tree.
It had been so long since she had slept in something as luxurious as this bed, and she relished it each and every night. Since Lord Gibbs’ death, she had been sleeping in cots resembling stone slabs, or, in Miss Baxter’s case, literally sleeping on stone slabs with thin blankets for warmth.
This is heaven, she decided. Well, if you take away the fact that I am living under the same roof as the man who took my house away from me.
Outside, she could hear an owl calling out in the darkness, a lonesome, terrible sound that brought shivers straight up Sophia’s spine. She turned to her side and burrowed deeper into the covers and closed her eyes.
Another bone shivering wail made her sit upright in an instant. Her candle was out. She did not know where the flint was and the fireplace was cold. In the pitch darkness, she stood up and slid her hands along the wall until she found the door knob, and opened it slowly.
Sophia heard the sound again, but now that there wasn’t an extra wall to separate her between the cry, she realized that the sound was coming from a child. Annie. She was in her room toward the end of the hall, perhaps crying from a night terror. Sophia had her fair share of nightmares as a girl, especially in that room in Calcutta where she had visited with her ghost.
Having a nightmare was a terrifying, lonely experience, and the crying continued unheeded. Should she go to the child and comfort her?
She didn’t need to. A soft sound of footsteps echoed down the hall. Sophia quickly closed her door to only a crack. A shadowed figure materialized out of the darkness, holding a dimly lit candle. The figure stopped by Annie’s door, opened it, and went inside. Safe from sight, Sophia slipped out of her room and tiptoed to the other side of the hall.
