by Hilly Mason
Sophia sighed and opened the door to the kitchen. Once they noticed her, the servants stared at her silently. How many wished that the lake monster succeeded? Sophia thought. Perhaps this has been a mistake.
Joyce waved her hand at an empty seat and Sophia took it, wanting to hide behind her mug of ale that the maid poured for her. She would much rather brave Diana’s brutal sarcasm than be under the judging eyes of these servants.
She hadn’t realized she was sitting next to a small girl, perhaps a couple years older than Annie, until the girl started tugging at her dress.
“What’s your name?” the girl asked her.
“My name is Sophia. What’s yours?”
“Elizabeth,” the girl replied and then smiled, revealing two missing front teeth. “I heard that you were mean.”
“Lizzie, hush,” an older woman sitting next to the girl hissed. She then looked up Sophia, clearly embarrassed. “I apologize.”
“No, that’s all right. I used to be mean, Lizzie, but I changed a bit. Or at least, I hope I did. I realized it takes a lot of energy to be mean, and it feels so much better to be kind to someone.” Well, I definitely need to heed my own wisdom when I’m with Diana, she thought.
“You teach Lady Georgiana?” the girl asked. “I want to learn French. My papa was from France. He met mama during the war.”
“My daughter is speaking out of turn, I’m sorry,” the woman said. She pointed to the plate of half-eaten ham. “Finish your dinner, Lizzie.”
Sophia gave them both a reassuring smile. “Well, you know, I plan on opening a boarding school someday—hopefully soon. Maybe your daughter could be my first pupil?”
“Oh, I could hardly afford that,” the woman said dismissively.
Sophia took a sip of her drink, thinking. Would it be possible to offer some sort of charitable grant to those with lower incomes wanting their children to be educated? Sophia would need some sort of income herself in order to keep the boarding school running, but she would hate to turn away children just because they did not have enough money.
The woman introduced herself as Rose, and they ate companionably for the rest of the meal. Rose was actually one of the cooks, and Sophia excitedly told her about the Indian dishes she ate in Calcutta, and how she had hired her own cooks who had some knowledge in the art, to bring the tastes of home back to England.
“I’ve never tried Indian cuisine,” Rose said, clearly intrigued.
“Well, I’m not much of a cook myself, but I can tell you all that I know.” She then proceeded to list the various spices that went into the meals, and soon realized she would need to write them down for the cook if she were to remember it all. Rose listened eagerly.
“Thank you very much. I was quite bored with my current options,” she said excitedly. “When you and the master get back from your trip to London, I will have a dish waiting for you.”
“It’s my pleasure,” Sophia said, quite looking forward to it. Not that the food at Ramsbury House was poor, but she did enjoy the extra spice that accompanied Indian cuisine.
After dinner, on her way out of the kitchen, she spotted something on the floor, just behind one of the smaller side tables. It was a blue vial, the body round with a slender neck holding a cork stopper. She crouched down and picked up the vial, opened it and took a sniff, wrinkling her nose at the sickeningly sweet scent. The bottle looked similar to the ones she had endlessly dusted in Miss Baxter’s shop. Hadn’t she heard once that poison could smell sweet? An icy fear shot through Sophia’s veins as she pocketed the vial. Was the same person who tried to drown her also trying to poison her?
Was it the same person who had also poisoned her husband?
Quickly, she went up to her room, as though whoever had possessed the poison was following closely behind her. She almost didn’t see Diana standing just outside her bedroom and let out a startled shriek.
“My,” said Diana, staring at her curiously, “I know I’m still in my dressing gown and haven’t finished my hair, but you needn’t act like you’ve just seen a ghoul.”
Sophia quickly recovered and shook her head. “It isn’t that. I wasn’t expecting you to be here. That’s all.” When she realized Diana wasn’t moving, she asked plainly: “Just why are you here, anyway?”
Diana looked down at her hands, as though her long, elegant fingers held the answers.
“I wanted to apologize to you about the way I’ve been acting toward you since your arrival.”
Sophia raised an eyebrow. “Did your brother ask you to do this?”
Diana eyes flashed upwards. “No, he did not, actually. He did scold me like a little girl, which made me think more about my actions that night at that disastrous dinner party.”
“It was disastrous, wasn’t it?” Sophia remarked, chuckling. Diana gave her an unsure smile. When she realized Sophia wasn’t angry, she laughed as well.
“It was perhaps the worst dinners I’ve been too,” Sophia went on. “And I had been arrested at one before! Oh, don’t worry, you can laugh.”
“You are a peculiar woman, you know,” Diana said, shaking her head in wonder. “I can understand why my brother is taken with you.”
Sophia sobered immediately. “Has he said as much?”
Diana shrugged. “He has hinted at it. He’s not very good at hiding his feelings. I love my brother, you know. And I would hate to see him hurt again, after what he had discovered about Lydia... I suppose I was fearful that you would hurt him as well. That is why I acted the way I did. I do apologize.”
“It’s quite all right.” Alex had been correct about his sister’s motivations. And it touched Sophia that she should love her brother so much that she would want to protect him from harm, however terrible her actions were in preventing it.
“Are you in love with my brother?” Diana suddenly asked. She then shook her head quickly, her curls bouncing off her face. “Never mind; it is not my business to ask. You are doing quite well with Annie. Please, keep up the good work.”
And with that awkward praise she turned and briskly walked down the hall.
Well, at least I can cross her off the list of people who are trying to murder me, Sophia thought morbidly as she shut the door to her room.
Back in her room, she was still mulling over those macabre thoughts, her hand pressed against her dress pocket where the vial lay.
“What did Isabel have against me, anyway?” she mused out loud.
“Well,” Joyce said as she was putting Sophia’s belongings into her traveling bag. “From what I heard, she had believed she would be promoted to governess after Lydia St. George passed away. Lord St. George mentioned to her that he would consider her, but I guess that when you came along he had forgotten about her.”
“Oh,” Sophia said. She would’ve been annoyed by that too, honestly. “Well, still, it’s hardly my fault. I hadn’t the notion that all of this was going to happen. Besides, are head maids usually promoted to governesses?”
“She used to be a lady, like you, until her name was ruined after her husband found out she had an affair.”
“Oh.”
“She didn’t believe you to be a good fit for Annie, either,” Joyce added.
“Well, I believe that makes everyone in this household besides you and Lord St. George,” Sophia said.
Was Isabel’s jealousy and contempt for her enough for the woman to want to kill her?
“Why did you agree to go on this trip to London,” Joyce asked, “if it’s not to get close to milord?”
“While Lord St. George is off gallivanting around his gaming clubs, and proving how great of a man he is by partaking in a duel, I’m going to figure out how to get out of this situation we’re in and find a way to live back in London.”
“But our situation isn’t too bad is it? Now with Isabel gone?”
I’m not so sure about that, Sophia thought, the vial heavy in her pocket.
“But if you don’t want to be here because you’re uncomfort
able around Lord St. George, than I can’t blame you,” Joyce continued.
Ever since her attack, she tried to forget about the way it had felt to be so close to Alex. Even now, she felt a rush of warmth just thinking about how he had gently kissed the back of her hand.
But she didn’t want to fall into the trap of feeling like she needed to be with a man again.
“Aren’t you worried about the duel?” Joyce asked.
“Men are always doing stupid things like that to prove their worth,” Sophia said flippantly. “I only worry that Annie won’t have a father to greet once it’s all over.”
“Well, I’ve heard from the servants that he is a very good marksmen, so the odds, I believe, are in his favor.”
“What did the man do to earn Lord St. George’s contempt, anyway?” Sophia asked. “Did you hear anything about it? Lord St. George was very vague when he spoke to me.”
“Well,” Joyce began, ever eager to share gossip. “I heard the footman—the one Lord St. George fired—saying how a man didn’t have any money on his person so he bet his entire estate during one game of hazard. Well, obviously he lost, and he owes people a lot of money, Lord St. George included. The man is refusing to give up his estate, saying that it was the others who cheated him.”
“Is that something people do often, bet their houses and the like? I can’t say I have sympathy for a man who would do such a thing.”
“Oh, the love of money knows no bounds for gamblers,” Joyce said reprovingly, shaking her head. “How is your ankle? Will you be fine traveling?”
Sophia had stopped using her crutch a few days ago but still walked with a limp. However, each day that went by it was less painful.
“I’ll be fine,” she reassured Joyce. “The injury has healed quickly, it seems.”
“Very good.” The maid clasped the travel bag tightly shut. “You’re all set, then.”
They were to leave after breakfast the following day. The coach was set up outside the front door with the one remaining footman, a lad of about sixteen or so, sitting in the back of two chestnut horses. Joyce had quickly washed Sophia’s mourning dress the night before as Sophia slept, and hung it by the fireplace to dry. It was still a bit damp around the edges, chilling Sophia enough for her to use the muffler that Diana had let her borrow. Alex had already paid her handsomely since she had started working for him, but she still wanted to wait a while longer yet before she spent money on new garments.
Oh, how I have changed, Sophia thought. Not too long ago, any money I would receive would be gone in a blink!
Alex stood in front of the coach door. He was dressed in his crisp dark blue coat, with white breeches and top boots, shiny under the sun. She had recalled the young footman polishing them in the servants’ hall the day before during lunch. If Alex had any qualms about her less-than fashionable attire, he made no hint of it in his expression. Instead, he gave her a small smile and a bow as she approached him.
“Are we ready, then?” he asked her.
“Yes.”
The footman hopped down from his seat and opened the door for the both of them to step in. Sophia slid to the farthest seat by the window and Alex came in after her. Diana, dressed to the gills in a new gown and pearls, stepped in to sit next to her brother. The coach seemed large on the outside, but with the three of them it started to feel rather cramped. Sophia thought she could hear Alex’s heartbeat as they sat in silence waiting for the coach to depart.
For the first time in a long while, Sophia finally began to feel some excitement. After all of these long weeks she would finally be back in London! She patted her coin purse in her reticule, imagining going to her favorite bakery later that afternoon for a slice of pie. Perhaps afterward she would splurge a bit at the dressmaker and buy something that wasn’t dark and depressing, like her mourning gown—or tight and revealing like Diana’s clothes.
She glanced over at the other woman, relieved to see her head leaned against a small pillow, her mouth slightly open in slumber. She caught Alex’s eyes and he smiled at her.
“Are you planning to escape once we are back in the city?” he asked nonchalantly.
Sophia started. She then cleared her throat and tried to cover her surprise by returning his smile. “Of course not.” At least, not yet, she added to herself.
“Then you are weary of being surrounded by trees and sheep?”
“It’s not that.”
“You can’t bear to be away from me?”
“Oh, you would like that, wouldn’t you,” she said dryly.
“I would be lying if I said that I didn’t.”
“So you do still have feelings for me?”
“Does that frighten you?” Alex asked her quietly.
Sophia did not answer. She turned her head sharply toward the window. She had admitted to Joyce that she thought she was still in love with Alex, but what if it only the concept of love? What good was love when it only resulted in the man controlling her life?
“I... I have some business in the city,” she finally told him.
“Oh? What kind of business?”
“That is not of your concern, Lord St. George.” she said, finally turning to meet his gaze.
She wished she hadn’t. He held her gaze firmly, and although she still saw the same pain in his eyes that she’d noticed since she first arrived at Ramsbury, she now observed something else. It mirrored the sensation she felt in the pit of her belly.
Desire.
Her breath caught in her throat as he reached his hand over and interlaced his fingers between hers.
“Why do you not hate me,” she whispered to him, “after what I’ve done to you?”
“Do you think it’s healthy to base the person we are today over the silly things we’ve done in the past?”
She did not consider Abby’s death silly. But she couldn’t tell him the truth now. Not with Diana nearby.
The grip on her hand tightened, and Alex’s eyes still lingered on hers as though he were silently coaxing her to reveal the terrible secret she harbored.
“Do I need to remind you that you have one other member in your traveling party?” Diana murmured sleepily.
Sophia flushed and drew her hand away as though she had touched a hot stove. Quickly, she changed the subject.
“Are you ready for your duel, then? Have you practiced?”
Alex chuckled. “I am ready, but there was no need for practice. He’s going to back down before the whole thing even starts.”
“How are you so certain?”
“The man is too much of a coward. He was a discharged from the military because he was too frightened to hold a gun during target practice—or so I’ve heard. I suspect he will show up to apologize and request a loan, as he should have done from the beginning.”
“What if it doesn’t go that way?”
“Well, like I said, I am a good shot.”
The rest of the ride was continued in relative silence. Diana was softly snoring on the other side of the coach, and Alex kept himself occupied by sorting through his papers, precariously using pen and ink as he wrote notes along the margins of the documents. Sophia’s heart leapt when she began to recognize the sights of London. Once they arrived in Mayfair, they continued down Audley Street. She refused to gaze out at Comerford when they passed by the house, not wanting Alex to see how upset she still was—and she was quite certain that there were charlatans hanging out of each window, with free-flowing liquor being spilled all over her expensive rugs.
Alex’s town house was on Mount Street, on the other side of Grosvenor Square. The buildings on Mount were similar to Audley Street in that the houses were three to four stories tall with large windows to let the natural light in during the day. In the busy streets, Sophia spotted a group of women carrying boxes from a dressmaker two blocks down. They whispered excitedly to one another as they peeked into the contents they held in their arms. As she stared longingly at the women, Sophia wondered if there was to be a
large party that night in one of the nearby houses.
It had been a shock months ago when she had first realized that she would never spend time with the likes of them ever again. Now, however, she felt only bitter acceptance.
There was life beyond the bon ton. It was a different life, but a life nonetheless.
The footman halted the coach in front of Widley House, and then helped the two women out. It felt good to be standing again, although Sophia’s injured foot protested a bit from putting her weight on it. Alex held out his arm for support and led Sophia up the stairs to the front door.
A butler opened it and looked a bit confused at first to see Lord St. George and his sister with an unknown lady, but whatever questions he had were quickly covered by his mask of servitude.
“Master St. George,” he said, bowing. “It is a pleasure to have you once again at Widley House. How long will you be staying?”
“A week,” Alex told him as he stepped into the house. The interior of the house was grand like Ramsbury, but the furnishing and decorations were sparse, a testament to how often Alex stayed in London.
“This is Lady Gibbs,” Alex said, introducing Sophia to the butler. “She is to stay with me for the week as she does her own business in London.”
“I will get her room ready then,” the butler said. He bowed to the three of them and then left.
“Welcome to Widley House,” Alex said, turning to Sophia. “Shall we rest for a bit before I show you one of my gaming clubs?”
Will it be Comerford? Sophia thought with alarm, but nodded, surprisingly curious to what she’d see.
I suppose I can only ignore Comerford’s cruel fate for so long.
Chapter Eighteen
After arriving at Widley, a short and plump young maid with blue eyes and a kind face ushered her up the stairs to her bedroom.
“Let’s get you primped and polished so you look your best when you’re out and about with Lord St. George.”
“Umm... thank you,” Sophia said as the maid opened up the door to one of the many rooms on the second floor. She stepped in, allowing the maid to lead her to a hassock. Once she sat down, the woman immediately began to unpin the loose strands of her travel-wearied hair.
