The Secrets of Sophia Musgrove

by Janey Louise Jones

  We went to kiss Mama goodbye, and I was glad to see that she was enjoying the company of Miss Bowes.

  She smiled proudly at us. 'Girls, you look quite divine,' she said, waving us off and looking so cheerful that I was able to look forward to the evening ahead with a light heart.

  We jumped into our coach with our chaperones, and waved to Mama and Miss Bowes, who were watching from the drawing-room window. As we set off, we speculated about the party.

  'I wonder who the mystery guests will be? I'm dying to find out!' said Lucy.

  'Probably Sir Billy Crashing-bore,' I said, using our nickname for tedious dinner companions.

  'You never know, Sophie. They might be interesting,' said Lucy, as optimistic as ever. 'It's always worth looking your best, even out in the sticks!'

  I laughed and agreed, while Mrs Willow and Lady Lennox tutted and pretended to be shocked.

  Chapter Six

  We alighted from the coach outside Mellorbay Hall and made our way up the fine stone stairway at the front of the house. It is a magnificent building of cream sandstone, designed by Robert Adam in the classical style. The central staircase at the front is flanked by two symmetrical wings, of at least four floors each. It is elegant and grand, and with lamps glowing at every window it also manages to look inviting – and even a little cosy.

  Lucy was most impressed, and she winked at me as we stepped into the main house. Our jackets were taken and we were shown into a smart receiving room where some other guests were already assembled. They all stood to mark our arrival and the men bowed politely.

  My eyes danced around the room. I recognized Estella's intended, Mr Dovetail, and guessed that the preening pair attached to him were his parents. In the far corner the Reverend Allen, the vicar who had replaced the now-retired Reverend Bowes – the father of our Miss Bowes – was holding forth about his gift for writing sermons, nearly pinning some poor young lady to the wall.

  I soon learned that she was Leonora Pink, a cousin of Mr Dovetail. She had the appearance of a fancy confection – a marshmallow, perhaps – with creamy skin and frothy blonde hair, and she wore a pale pink dress, in the old style. It has to be said that she suits her surname admirably.

  I blushed as I spotted Lord Sandford. I had not seen him for over a year and saw that he was not elderly, as I had remembered, but a handsome man in his thirties – which is old, but not very old. I felt so sorry for him – bereaved at such a young age. He was always very friendly, with lovely manners, and I liked him well.

  He was talking to two handsome young gentlemen, but he came towards us as we entered and warmly welcomed us to the party.

  'Let me introduce everyone,' he said. When he came to his two male companions, Lucy and I were paying particular attention as they were both incredibly dashing.

  'This is my great friend, Mr Archer, of Crossbows House in the village,' he told us. Mr Archer was a young, athletic-looking man, with dark wavy hair and a devastating smile. Lucy was most impressed by him, and I could certainly see why.

  'To his left,' continued Lord Sandford, 'is my distant cousin, the Honourable Johnny Hughes.'

  Johnny Hughes! I could not believe it – and Lucy even coughed in surprise. I stole a glance at Mr Hughes's face and saw that the stories of his good looks were not wrong. He had dark, expressive eyes and chiselled features. He was tall and broad, with a soldier's physique, and he smiled in a friendly way. I thought it was a good thing Lucy and I had taken such care with our appearance.

  Very soon, Mr Archer was at our side, amusing us with jokes and tricks.

  'Did you know, ladies, that I can make gold out of thin air?' he told us playfully.

  'Is that so, Mr Archer? You must be exceedingly rich, in that case!' I retorted.

  'Ah! I can make it appear, but as yet, I cannot prevent it from disappearing again!' he explained, and Lucy and I both laughed. Lucy was well entertained and I thought Mr Archer was fun too, but I couldn't help feeling a little mistrustful. He reminded me of a confidence trickster I had once encountered at the county fair.

  Mr Hughes and Lord Sandford had been talking to someone else, but they now joined in the merriment.

  'And Mr Hughes, can you too produce gold from thin air?' I asked.

  'Yes, Miss Musgrove. I was the one who taught it to Mr Archer. And, what's more, I know how to keep hold of it!' he replied with a smile.

  'Aha! Then that gives you the edge over Mr Archer,' I laughed.

  'Of course, but not just in the production of gold!' he told me.

  I smiled at this arch-vanity, which was clearly said in jest. Lord Sandford laughed as Mr Hughes whispered to me: 'Ask Mr Archer his first name!'

  I did so, and Mr Archer immediately blushed and said, 'Johnny, I'll kill you for that! I shall never reveal it. It is too silly – a family name, my mother's joke. Just call me Archer, please, ladies!'

  This was too intriguing.

  'Oh, do tell!' begged Lucy. 'I know – we will suggest names and you can simply confirm or deny them. How does that sound?'

  'Very well, but you shall never get it – it is quite unique . . .' he teased.

  Lucy began. 'Algernon?'

  I tried, 'Macbeth?'

  Back to Lucy. 'Jesus?' she asked. At which point the vicar rushed over to join us.

  'You are discussing religion . . . ?' he began. We all stifled our giggles. I had forgotten that the vicar has the habit of whistling his words out between his teeth, so that he sounds like a kettle coming to the boil.

  'As I was just saying to the lovely Miss Pink, I am in want of a wife this year,' he whistled.

  At this terrifying prospect, Mr Archer drew Lucy to one side, engaging in polite chit-chat, leaving Mr Hughes, Lord Sandford and myself to manage the vicar, whose favourable image of himself is rather removed from our vision of him.

  Mr Hughes seemed to realize that the vicar was extremely dull, and he very charmingly brought the conversation round to topics which were of more interest to me.

  'Have you taken the waters at Bath, Miss Musgrove?' he asked.

  'Yes, I loved the bathing – though not so much the drinking of the waters,' I confided.

  He laughed. 'And did you enjoy the parties and promenading at the Assembly Rooms?' he asked.

  'Yes, indeed, although there was not much to look at,' I replied.

  'Ah, but if you were promenading, I suspect the onlookers would have found more to please the eye than you did,' he told me gallantly.

  Mr Hughes was somewhat hard to fathom – always charming, yet somehow giving little away. At first I felt that he had little interest in making my acquaintance, and yet, as I moved off around the room to join Estella and her future in-laws, I noticed that his gaze seemed to follow me.

  The dining hall was wonderfully grand, with gold plates and crystal glasses on a vast mahogany table, all glittering in the light of the shimmering chandeliers. Unfortunately, over dinner I noticed that my soon-to- be brother-in-law, Mr Dovetail, was very full of himself.

  He snapped his fingers for a footman to attend him, only to fill the poor man's hands with items from his plate that he did not wish to eat! Estella scolded him gently and he became quite red with irritation.

  'Estella, dearest, when I want your opinion, I shall ask for it!' he retorted severely, making my poor sister blush.

  The conversation turned to the upcoming wedding and the guests. Mr Dovetail began to tell those of us seated around him of an intriguing old school friend of his called Marcus Stevens. 'He'll be there. You must look out for him. He's an exceptionally clever fellow!' he enthused.

  'In what way is he clever, Mr Dovetail?' I asked.

  'Why, with money, politics, literature. Whatever he does, he does well,' he explained.

  We were distracted by the creak of the dining-room door opening, and there before us stood quite the most adorable child I had ever seen.

  'Rose, my darling girl!' said Lord Sandford. 'Were you having nightmares, sweetest?'

  '
Yes, Papa. I need you to read to me, please,' she lisped sweetly. Without a moment's thought, he scooped her up in his arms, asked her to wish us goodnight and took her upstairs for some fairytales.

  When he came back down a little while later, I turned to him, as I was seated to his right. 'Lord Sandford, your daughter is the sweetest little thing. I should love to come and play with her and read stories to her one day.'

  'How kind, Miss Musgrove. Rose would like that, I know,' Lord Sandford replied, looking delighted.

  I glanced up to find Mr Hughes looking at me in a quizzical way. 'I still love toys, I'm afraid,' I explained, shrugging my shoulders.

  After the meal we played games in the great hall and entertained each other with songs and piano-playing. I thought I would explode with suppressed giggles when the vicar took to the floor and sang a ballad, whistling the words through his teeth. When I glanced at Lucy, I could tell she was having similar trouble. Even Mrs Willow had to bite her lips to control her mirth.

  As the evening progressed, I became very uneasy at the behaviour of the Dovetails, who seemed to me to be enjoying the hospitality of the kindly Lord Sandford rather too well. Each time I saw Mrs Dovetail, she was gorging herself on sugar-frosted cherries, spitting out the stones into a bowl held up by a poor maidservant. Meanwhile Mr Dovetail was downing glasses of champagne as though it were cheap ale. And they were both unkind in their opinions – on politics, people and etiquette.

  'Ooh, she's a slattern!' said Mrs Dovetail at one point, talking of her poor neighbour, a Mrs Forster. 'She serves sherry with fruitcake. Can you imagine?'

  And as for Estella's fiancé, I was sorry to note that his eyes went wherever the most female skin was on show. On one occasion he was talking to Lucy about Italy, while staring fixedly at her magnificent décolletage. She bravely tried to ignore his gaze, which certainly did not meet her eye.

  But despite these annoyances, it was a splendid evening and I felt quite intoxicated by it. 'I know! Let's play mimes!' I suggested. 'I'll start!'

  Everyone agreed that this was a prime notion, so I prepared myself to act out the title of a play. I thought on my feet, and noticing a galleried balcony above the drawing room, decided on Romeo and Juliet. I ran up to the balcony and looked down in lovelorn fashion, my hands clasped together in longing.

  'Be careful, Sophia!' called Mrs Willow anxiously. 'You're going to fall over the edge!'

  I ignored her and accidentally fixed my gaze on Mr Hughes, who was looking up at me in a heroic manner. Perhaps due to the wine we had been served, I was rather unsteady and I could feel myself spinning a little.

  'Romeo and Juliet! ' he said.

  'Hooray!' I cried, luckily falling backwards onto a chair instead of tumbling over the edge of the balcony. (It could have gone either way!) Mr Hughes came running to my rescue and I found myself laughing at my dizziness. I could hear the others carrying on with the mimes below, but the room was spinning slightly around me.

  'Are you unused to champagne, Miss Musgrove?' asked Mr Hughes gently.

  'Yes. I'm sorry . . .' I laughed.

  'Do not be sorry. Let's go out for some air,' he suggested.

  I agreed and we made our way out to the terrace. I shivered as a chill wind blew across the park, and then I felt him draping a warm jacket around my shoulders.

  'Thank you,' I said.

  He smiled. 'It has been a pleasure making your acquaintance this evening, Miss Musgrove. You were not at Queen Charlotte's ball . . .'

  'No, sir. I was looking after my mother. Unfortunately she has a mystery illness, which is worrying us all greatly.'

  'I am sorry to hear of it,' he said. 'I trust that when we next meet, she will be quite cured. I have recently been invited to the forthcoming family wedding by your sister's fiancé, so I shall be back here soon.'

  'Ah! I am excited about the wedding, but not about losing my sweet sister,' I lamented.

  'You are close to your sister?' he asked.

  'Very close,' I replied. I was quiet for a moment. My family were my whole world. I could not imagine life any other way. I felt a pang of anxiety about my mother's illness and quickly asked Mr Hughes about his siblings.

  We were deep in conversation when we were interrupted by the shrill laughter of Lucy, who was still in party mood. 'Ah, Sophie! I last saw you perched on the edge of the balcony. I'm glad you are still alive!' she cried.

  'And I'm glad to see that you are still standing on your own two feet,' I laughed.

  It was time to go home to the Daisy Park. After we'd requested our jackets, Lord Sandford saw us off as warmly as he had welcomed us. 'It has been a pleasure, Miss Musgrove,' he said. 'And perhaps you would honour us by visiting Rose soon?'

  'Of course. I will come tomorrow after lunch, if I may?' I suggested, thinking what a sweet child Rose seemed – and without a mother too. It was too cruel.

  Before we got into our coach, Mr Hughes came to say goodnight. His manner was rather stiff and formal, but there seemed to be warmth underneath. 'Until the wedding, Miss Musgrove,' he said.

  'Yes, I shall look forward to seeing you there, Mr Hughes,' I replied.

  Lady Lennox, Mrs Willow and Estella were waiting for us in our carriage, and we soon set off on the short journey home. But as we travelled down the driveway of Mellorbay Hall, we suddenly heard footsteps running alongside us. Our driver pulled up, and Mr Archer reached in to wish Lucy goodnight. He kissed her hand dramatically before taking his leave.

  Later, as we sat in our nightgowns on my chaise, sipping hot milky drinks provided by Miss Larch, Lucy and I talked over the events of the evening.

  'I can't believe how exciting it all is, Sophia!' Lucy exclaimed. 'I have a new admirer, and we have finally met the Adorable Johnny Hughes!'

  'Yes, at last,' I agreed.

  'What do you think of him?' Lucy asked.

  I smiled. 'He does not disappoint.'

  Lucy laughed. 'And consider Mr Archer! I have never felt less disappointed either, Sophie dear. Isn't life fun?'

  Chapter Seven

  Estella had been notified that our little brother, Harry, would be arriving the next day and we were all up early, listening for hooves and Harry's crazy whoops as he came down the driveway. Mama sat up in bed and allowed Lily to style her hair and apply a little pink rouge, so as not to scare Harry with her pale face.

  Lucy chatted all morning about 'her' Mr Archer, and we marvelled at the fact that we had come all the way to rural Whistling Sparrows to finally meet Johnny Hughes.

  'You spent ages talking with him, Sophie. Did you like him?' she asked.

  'Which one?' I replied.

  'Well, Mr Archer, as we know, is heavenly, but I meant Mr Hughes.'

  'Hmm. He's rather deep,' I commented.

  'Just like you!' retorted Lucy.

  Before lunch I was pleased to hear the sound of a carriage approaching. Little Harry Musgrove was back, hotfooting it home from the School for Scamps!

  He was sitting up with the driver, jousting with a huge pole of some sort, and prodding it at an imaginary opponent.

  'Take that, scoundrel! I'm not afraid of Dick Turpin!' he was shouting.

  When he saw Estella, Lucy and me, he began to wave in a crazy fashion.

  'The three witches from Macbeth! I shall have to kill you all!' he called, before jumping from the carriage and running towards us at top speed. He hugged us all tight as we ruffled his hair and marvelled at how much he had grown, and then Dinky leaped up into his arms, recognizing that his partner-in-crime had returned.

  'Where is Mama?' Harry asked. The school had simply been told that it was time for Harry to come home for the wedding, and we had yet to break the news to him that Mama was very poorly.

  His little face crumpled when we told him. A friend of his had lost his mother in a fever a few months earlier, so he was full of concern.

  'I want to see her!' he said, running into the house. We found him racked with sobs at Mama's feet, with his head on her lap.<
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  She stroked his hair. 'I'll be better soon, Harry,' she told him. 'And I'm all the better for seeing you, my darling.'

  That afternoon Miss Bowes sat with Mama again, while Lucy and Lady Lennox went for a walk into the village. I visited little Rose Sandford, as I promised, and we got along famously. Her nurse, Ginny, took a break while I was there, and Rose showed me her nursery. It is heavenly and full of beautiful toys.

  When we had tired of all the indoor games, we went to look for butterflies out in the wildflower meadow. She didn't want to catch them, which Harry would have done; she just wanted to look for them, but we didn't have much luck as it was rather early in the year.

  'Do you know what my dream is, Miss Musgrove?' she asked me.

  'No, Rose, what is it?' I asked.

  'To be a fairy princess!' she exclaimed.

  'And what does a fairy princess do?' I enquired, thinking back to the days when I loved to hear stories of fairies from Mrs Willow.

  'They wear the prettiest dresses and scatter flowers wherever they go,' she explained. My mind began to whirl. This was a dream Estella and I could possibly make come true . . .

  'That's a lovely dream, Rose,' was all I said, and we went back to the house to play hide-and-seek.

  Rose soon found my hiding place in a toy cupboard in the nursery, and we were laughing and dancing around the room when I suddenly became aware that we were being watched, and blushed as I saw Lord Sandford standing in the doorway.

  'Oh, Lord Sandford, I'm sorry – I didn't see you there,' I gasped.

  'Do not apologize, Miss Musgrove. It is a charming scene,' he replied with a smile.

  That afternoon, during tea at the Daisy Park, I put forward my idea.

  'Stella, what would you say if I suggested we invite Rose to be a flower girl at the wedding? I think it would be a dream come true for her,' I explained. (I was to be a bridesmaid, along with Leonora Pink – Mr Dovetail had no sisters; Harry, to his disgust, was to be a pageboy.)