Sophia's Gamble

by Hilly Mason

  “I needed some fresh air.”

  “At this time of the night?”

  “I didn’t think the countryside would be so dangerous,” she said defensively. “How was I to know that you harbor some lake monster?”

  “What are you going on about? Lake monster?”

  “Yes, she pulled me into the lake.”

  “You mean, you did not fall in?”

  “No, I was attacked! Somebody did this to me!”

  She looked up at his eyes and noticed how they darkened. He was about to say something in response, but Joyce, waiting by the door to her room, quickly opened it to let them in.

  She curtsied to him politely, but did not mask her expression of surprise as he laid Sophia gently on her bed.

  Sophia’s body still felt afire as she gave him a weak smile. “Thank you, Alex.”

  They stared at each other wordlessly until Joyce cleared her throat.

  “I think I should wash your wounds, Sophia,” she told her.

  Alex blinked and straightened his back, obviously forgetting Joyce was there.

  “Indeed, I shall take my leave,” he said formally. “I will look into who did this to you. Mark my words, there will be consequences.”

  He nodded and gave Sophia a small smile. Then, taking a step closer to her, he took her hand in his, gazing at her wounds. The blood was beginning to dry, but her hand was still swollen and red. A look of concern flashed in his eyes, but he quickly hid it as he leaned forward to softly kiss the back of her hand.

  “I hope you recover quickly. Let me know if you need anything.”

  “Thank you.”

  When he left, Joyce closed the door swiftly behind her. She turned back around and stared at Sophia, eyes wide.

  “I did not know you were both calling each other by your given names!”

  “I suppose old habits die hard.”

  “You also weren’t lying when you said he was in love with you!” she exclaimed as she went over to the basin and dipped a cloth in it. She started cleaning Sophia’s hands. “He came in here like he was carrying you in to consummate your marriage!”

  “Joyce!” Sophia exclaimed, mortified, and then winced as the maid pulled a few pebbles from her hand.

  “I’m just saying what I’m observing,” Joyce said nonchalantly. “Where’s that witch hazel? Ah, here it is!”

  “Joyce… I am frightened.”

  Joyce glanced up from her work. “By his love for you?”

  “No. I think I am still in love with him.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  He had dreamed for so long to feel what it would be like to have that woman so close in his arms.

  But she was attacked mercilessly, on his property nonetheless. Had it been his servants? Sophia had mentioned to him that they detested her. But would a servant go so far as to attempt to drown the woman? And Sophia...

  It made him feel ill that he wasn’t there to save her. But how could he have known something like this would ever happen? Ramsbury had always been a safe place to live.

  Thank God she wasn’t injured too badly, or worse, killed. He doubted if he would be able to live with himself if she had been found dead. He had asked for an update from her maid, Joyce, about the woman’s condition and was told that she was faring much better and would be able to continue on with her work as governess the following day.

  After hearing this, Alex was about to barge into Sophia’s bedroom demand she rest for at least a few days, but knowing Sophia, she would never allow that to happen. So, instead he fished around in his study for the wooden crutch that had been used by his mother when she had taken a misstep from her coach a few years prior. His mother was a few inches taller that Sophia, but it should be much better than hobbling around with nothing, making the injury worse.

  Now Alex was back in his study, struggling to do some work. He had been so distracted by her presence for the past few weeks that he had let his business dealings slide. There were a pile of letters he still needed to sort through, but it was difficult to focus when Sophia was but a few doors down, dressing for the day, perhaps still in nothing but her thin chemise. Ah, how small and delicate she had felt in his arms! He had been just inches away from kissing her softly on her pink lips…

  Which would only result in a well-deserved slap.

  Alex shifted uncomfortably in his seat and grabbed the first letter from his pile to distract him from his baser thoughts.

  He read through it and dropped his head in his hands. The letter was from one of his managers he had hired for his gaming club in Mayfair. There was a man, it read, a patron who had been coming to the establishment for years, who had cheated the club out of a large sum of money. The manager ended the letter by asking for Alex’s opinion on what to do next.

  Alex gazed out of the window, thinking. He should head over to Mayfair himself to assess the situation. It has been a while since he traveled to London and made his presence known in his own clubs. Perhaps not having him around made his patrons more willing to cheat him. As for the low-life who stole money from him? Well, he would get his dues in good time. Alex was one of the best marksmen London knew, and he was either going to get his money back, or kill the bugger if he refused.

  It would be a clandestine business transaction, as the authorities were not so keen when civilians took matters of right and wrong into their own hands, especially through the potentially lethal activity of dueling. But if Alex were to go by what the authorities wanted and reported the thief instead, the process would be long and drawn-out—with expensive bribery—leaving him with less money than before.

  A trip to London it was, then. It would also give him time to distance himself from Sophia and the strange way she was making him feel.

  The next day he ordered all of his servants to line up just outside the entrance to the servants’ hall.

  Good God, did he need to have so many servants at Ramsbury? Marcus stood at the end of the line, staring at him directly. Alex fought the urge to scowl and him. He had specifically left his pistol in his study because, if he had it with him now, he would not hesitate to blow a hole through the man’s head.

  This man, as devious as he was, was also Annie’s father. And as such, he could not kill him. But how many times had Marcus helped to dress him, while at the same time thinking about undressing his wife later that day?

  He swallowed his revulsion.

  “Last night,” he began, “Lady Gibbs was attacked while walking along the lake path.”

  He noticed the way the servants glanced from one to the other. The head maid put a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh.

  “What is so funny, Isabel?”

  She immediately hung her head, embarrassed. “My lord, I was just wondering, how odd it is to walk alone at night. Is she trying to summon the dead?”

  “She wanted the exercise,” Joyce insisted. Then, risking a glance at Alex, she folded her hands together and lowered her head.

  “That doesn’t mean she has a right to be attacked now, does it?” Alex asked.

  “No, milord.” Isabel replied.

  “No, it doesn’t.” He paced the servants’ formation like a general of an army. “Now, I don’t know who did this to her—it could have been some crazed person hiding in the bushes for all I know—but I am going to find out. If one of you knows what happened and refuses to speak up, I will find out. You will rue the day you kept silent.”

  “She had it coming to her,” Isabel whispered.

  “There are some men who beat their servants for speaking out like that,” he said to Isabel, noticing how his words made everyone’s faces turn ashen gray. “You should be thankful that my father raised me to be merciful. However, I will not be afraid of sending you out into the streets at a moment’s notice, or have the constable come by to pick you up and send you to jail for assaulting a woman.”

  “Do you really think the constable would care if a convicted murderer was assaulted?”

  Alex’s han
d flew to his waist, once again wishing for the pistol that wasn’t there.

  “Isabel, you are no longer in my service. Pack your belongings and leave.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “But, Lord St. George!”

  “Did you not hear me? I have dealt with your insolence far too long, and that was my own mistake. Now leave.”

  Isabel clenched her jaw tightly. With her back straight, she turned and descended the stairs back down to the servants’ hall.

  “Perhaps I have been too liberal with you these past few months of mourning my wife’s death,” he said. Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement. He turned his head to face his footman. He was staring at Alex peculiarly, eyes narrowed with his head cocked to the side.

  “If you do not like the way I run things here at Ramsbury, you’re free to leave with Isabel. Otherwise, you are dismissed to your duties.”

  The servants quickly scattered.

  “Marcus, you stay.”

  Alex dressed himself for the first time in years. He grew up without needing a servant to button his clothes and straighten his tailcoats. It wasn’t until Lydia had persuaded him that he needed a footman—Marcus, specifically—that he heeded her request to hire one.

  Yes, it all made sense now.

  Marcus had not been surprised when Alex took him aside. He seemed, in fact, eager to talk. According to Marcus’ account, Lydia had fancied the footman long before Alex asked her to marry him. But Lydia’s father, wanting his daughter to become a baroness rather than a footman’s wife, forbid her to marry Marcus and instead agreed to Alex’s proposal.

  “I used to be jealous of you... y’know,” Marcus had told him. “Spending so much time with little Annie while I stood in the shadows. But after Lydia... died, I could hardly look at the girl without being reminded of her. It’s... too much for me.”

  “I am Georgiana’s father,” Alex said. “Not you. And it will remain that way. She will know nothing of this until she is old enough to understand what happened to her mother. But I will always remain her father.”

  Marcus nodded. “The affair... it was all silly to begin with, wasn’t it? A servant is always a servant, until the day he dies.”

  “Are you trying to make me feel sympathy for you? If so, you are wasting your time.”

  The footman shrugged. “No. Not really. I have no desire to be Annie’s father. Not anymore. I want to be done here. Kill me, if you have to. At least then I can be with Lydia again. I am, however, not sorry for what I’ve done.”

  Alex swallowed against a dry throat.

  “I want you to leave. Don’t ever come to Ramsbury again.”

  “Yes, milord.” Marcus turned on his heel and left the hall, hopefully for the last time. If he did show up at Ramsbury again, Alex would be tempted to leave him out by the lake to see if there really was a monster with a thirst for blood.

  The next day, Alex was back he was in his study, his pistols laid out on his table as he inspected them. The pistols had been a gift from his father on his wedding day, a coveted set of Manton’s that had all of his friends drooling with envy. He stroked the hilt of the guns fondly with his fingertips, tracing the filigree engravings and the smoothly polished silver.

  “Goodness,” Sophia remarked, standing by the door. “Sorry to be a bother, but what on Earth are you planning to do with those guns?”

  “Firstly, what are you doing wandering about these halls while you are still injured?”

  “Annie needs to continue on with her lessons—sprained ankle or no sprained ankle.”

  Alex pointed to a chair. “Sit,” he instructed. Once she was settled into her chair he continued: “I’m going to London to challenge someone into a duel.”

  “A duel,” Sophia repeated slowly. Was there a look of worry he saw in her eyes? “Whatever for?”

  “A man cheated in one of my gambling clubs. So, he will admit to it and return the money, through cash or a loan, or he will be shot dead.”

  Sophia swallowed forcibly as she stared at the weapons.

  “Have you... have you ever killed anyone with those things?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Is this even necessary then?” Sophia asked, obviously disgusted by the thought. “Why can’t you just have an honest discussion with the scoundrel?”

  “Unfortunately, darling, most men can only solve things through physical means.”

  Sophia blushed.

  “You know,” she said, lowering her eyes back down to the weapon. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to shoot.”

  “Taken to the goddess Diana like my daughter?” he asked her.

  Sophia shrugged and gave him a smile that made his heart skip two beats.

  “Perhaps.”

  “There are plenty of good female sharpshooters out there,” Alex said, carefully putting the guns away. “It wouldn’t be strange for you to learn.”

  “Would you be able to teach me?”

  Alex looked up at her in surprise. Her question seemed earnest. “Well, let’s heal that ankle first, and then we will start talking about lessons.”

  “Very well,” she said. She reached up and pulled at a blonde curl nervously. “Are you to leaving soon?”

  “In a few days; I will return in about a week.”

  She pointed a finger at him. “If you survive the duel.”

  He laughed. “Don’t worry, I will survive. Most of the time the offender backs down and apologizes after realizing he does not want to die.”

  “I wasn’t worrying,” she insisted. “I was just... I was just looking forward to the lessons. That’s all.”

  She turned her head to look at the paintings lining his study, stopping her gaze at the portrait of Alex as a young boy, standing with his mother and father.

  “And will there be visitors at Ramsbury during your absence?”

  “Not to my knowledge.” He paused. “You’re worried about another attack, aren’t you?”

  “How could I not when we still do not know who did such a thing?”

  “I warned the servants not to lay a hand on you.”

  Sophia laughed mirthlessly. “From my experience, that probably riled them up even more. They hate to see me associating with you.”

  “I know.”

  Alex then realized what she was hinting at.

  “You want to come with me, don’t you?” he asked.

  “I can’t really do that can I? I am but a governess and still in mourning. I can’t be seen out and about in the streets of London with a baron.”

  “Darling, both of our reputations are questionable. If anyone gives us a second glance I will simply tell them to bugger off.”

  She hid a smile by lowering her head. “Yes,” Sophia finally said. “I do want to come with you. But... do not call me darling, please.”

  “Why not?”

  “Alexander St. George!”

  Alex winced at the name—and at the interruption. “Diana, you are sounding more and more like Mother with each day that goes by.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Diana crossed her arms where she stood, by the threshold of the door.

  “It is a bad thing. It’s downright horrifying.”

  “Alex, why did you let Isabel go?” she demanded.

  “She admitted to attacking Lady Gibbs.”

  “She did no such thing!”

  “How do you know?”

  “It was two nights ago, wasn’t it? Isabel was in my room trying to get a fire going—we do need to get some more peat, by the way—and then helped to trim my hair. She didn’t leave my room until well after nightfall.”

  “You are certain about this?”

  “Yes, Alex.”

  Alex sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Well, if she did not do it, her attitude toward me was enough to warrant her expulsion.”

  “That is not fair!”

  “Well, I see where Isabel got her insolence from,” Sophia remarked dryly.

  Finally noticing Sop
hia, Diana balled her gloved hands into small fists and glared at her.

  “What is she doing here?”

  “I was just about to leave,” Sophia said, grabbing her crutch and using it to help herself back onto her feet.

  “Lady Gibbs is accompanying me to London,” Alex explained.

  Diana puckered her lower lip. “But I am going to London with you!”

  “For what reason?”

  “I am to meet Lord Evans and his family at a dinner party on Thursday.”

  Lord Evans was an earl that Diana was trying desperately to woo, although Alex plainly told his sister that he was a womanizer and a well known cheat in the gaming clubs.

  “Well, there is room in the coach for both of you,” he finally said, resigned.

  “I don’t know...” Diana said doubtfully. “Lady Gibbs is a bit rotund. She has popped a few seams of the dresses I loaned her.”

  Sophia jaw dropped open in shock.

  “Well, at least I have a figure, and am not a stick like you!” she retorted.

  Alex pinched the bridge of his nose. “Will you two at least try to remain civil?”

  “Fine.” Sophia and Diana said in unison. It would have been amusing if not for the glares they gifted each other.

  His trip to London was going to be an interesting one, and he knew it had nothing to do with the duel.

  Chapter Seventeen

  After learning that Alex had gotten rid of Isabel, Sophia felt the need to go down to the servants’ hall to make her peace with the rest of them. By Alex’s invitation, she had taken dinner the past couple of nights with Alex, Diana, and Annie, but had decided to spend dinner the night before her trip to London at the servants’ hall instead.

  She was surprised by how nervous she felt descending the steps to the underground quarters. As she made her way to the kitchens, the aroma of sweet ham and potatoes wafted through the halls, making Sophia’s mouth water.

  “It smells so delicious down here!” she exclaimed to a scullery maid, who looked at her with wide eyes and squeaked an affirmative before scampering down the hall.