The Secrets of Sophia Musgrove

by Janey Louise Jones

  After the speeches and the breakfast, I twirled Rose around in the glade by the lake, pretending we were princesses from Fairyland. Lord Sandford caught up with us there.

  'Rosie, go and find Ginny. Tell her you must have your face washed. It's all sticky with rice pudding,' he said to his little girl, before kissing her sticky face anyway.

  My mouth went dry. I didn't feel comfortable being alone with Lord Sandford, and now here we were, together in the woods, with the music and scents of the party drifting towards us through the trees.

  'Miss Musgrove . . . Sophia,' he began. 'I wanted to thank you for all you have done for Rose. She has seldom been this happy. You have a wonderful way with her.'

  I took a step back, keen to restore a respectable distance between us. 'She is adorable, my lord. It has been my pleasure,' I replied, turning to head back to the party.

  But Lord Sandford stopped me. 'You see, Sophia,' he went on, a slightly misty look in his eyes, 'you are quite—'

  But at that moment he was interrupted by Harry, who came crawling through the woods with a sword held out in front of him.

  'Harry, you'll get filthy doing that!' I scolded. 'Do excuse me, Lord Sandford, while I attend to this little rascal. With my mother being so fatigued I must look after him.'

  'Why, of course, Miss Musgrove. For one so tender in years, the way in which you deal with responsibilities is commendable,' he concluded.

  As Harry and I wandered back to the Daisy Park to find him a clean suit, he turned to me and said: 'Came to your rescue, didn't I, Soph?'

  'Yes, Harry, you darling little monster, I rather think you did,' I told him.

  He chased me indoors with a worm in his hand.

  When I returned to the party, I noticed that the lake, which had six little rowing boats upon it, had become the centre of activities. As dusk fell, some of the young gentlemen had thrown off their jackets, rolled up their sleeves and set off on races across the lake. Lucy stood on the edge of the water, shrieking encouragement to Mr Archer as he paddled furiously in his bid to impress her. Mr Hughes was in another boat, and rowed his way across the finishing line in first place, looking quite unruffled.

  There was dancing too – mainly cotillions – and the lanterns gave the wildflower garden a magical, fairytale quality. After the boating contest, I noticed that Lucy and Mr Archer were dancing together time after time, even though Lady Lennox tried to put a stop to it. She isn't really quite firm enough to chaperone Lucy properly – which suits Lucy perfectly.

  My thoughts turned again to what Ruth had said about Mr Archer: I so hoped she was wrong, but I found myself worrying about his supposed involvement with the slave ships.

  However, it was my sister's wedding day, so I tried to put sad thoughts from my mind as I sat on a rose-pink velvet chair at the edge of the garden and observed the dancers.

  I spotted Mr Hughes looking awkward on one side of the dance floor, clearly being pursued by Leonora Pink. I think she was seeking his attention, for she suddenly took a theatrical dizzy turn in front of him, collapsing towards him for support. He steadied her politely and guided her to a chair, where she took out her smelling salts. Mrs Dovetail immediately fussed over her and Mr Hughes withdrew. Seeing me watching, he came over and knelt down beside me.

  'Miss Musgrove, how charming you look today,' he said.

  'Thank you, Mr Hughes. Have you enjoyed the celebrations?' I asked.

  'Yes. This has been the finest wedding I have attended all season,' he replied. 'Would you care to dance, Miss Musgrove?'

  'That would be very agreeable,' I said, and he led me onto the dance floor. After the cotillion, with Mr Hughes guiding me around the garden quite securely, my new brother-in-law approached and asked me to dance. I smiled and agreed, of course, though I was rather disappointed that Mr Hughes and I had been interrupted, as he is a fine dancer and very easy company too.

  'Perhaps we will have time to converse again later?' Mr Hughes said as I was led away by Mr Dovetail.

  'I hope so, Mr Hughes – if you can catch me!' I laughed.

  A few minutes later, as I danced with Mr Dovetail, I caught sight of him helping my mother towards the house. He held her hand and waist supportively and she seemed to me to be in very safe hands, but I made a mental note to check on her as soon as I had a spare moment. Her health had generally been better recently, but she still tired easily.

  After several more dances – and a quick visit to Mama's room, where I found her comfortably settled – I headed for the vast crystal bowl of punch, which looked extremely refreshing, with fruit and mint leaves floating in it. As I sipped my drink, I suddenly spotted Lord Sandford making a beeline for me. His eyes had that misty look in them again, and I felt anxious to avoid an awkward conversation. I needed to appear occupied, so I quickly turned to the guest nearest to me and said, 'I do hope you have enjoyed my sister's wedding?'

  A devastatingly handsome young man – tall, with blond hair and dancing blue eyes – replied, 'It has been very agreeable, thank you.'

  'Oh, I am glad. And was there anything in particular that you liked?' I went on desperately, partly fascinated by his staggering good looks, and partly keen to keep him talking until Lord Sandford had gone.

  His eyes sparkled. 'Well, I have been bewitched by you today, and that is something that has never happened to me before,' he said conversationally.

  'I – I shall take that as a compliment,' I stammered, quite taken aback by this declaration.

  'Do please excuse me,' he went on, smiling at my confusion. 'I have not yet introduced myself. I am Marcus Stevens.'

  'How do you do, Mr Stevens?' I replied, vaguely recognizing the name. I was sure Mr Dovetail had mentioned him as some sort of genius. 'I am Sophia Musgrove.'

  'I am delighted to meet you, Miss Musgrove,' replied Mr Stevens, and with the fragrant spring air, the punch, and the soothing voice of my new companion, I began to enjoy myself immensely.

  My peace was soon shattered by the sound of Harry shouting.

  'Help!' he wailed. 'I'm stuck!' We looked up to see that he had climbed into a tall sycamore tree without thinking of his route back to the ground.

  'Oh, Harry!' I exclaimed. 'How on earth are we going to get you down?'

  'I don't know, but think of something, Soph. I'm feeling dizzy up here!' he replied.

  In an instant, Mr Stevens had taken off his jacket and was swinging himself up into the tree. He soon reached the branch where Harry was sitting and helped him down, one branch at a time. After an agonizing few minutes they were both back on solid ground again.

  'Thank you so much, Mr Stevens!' I said gratefully, clutching Harry to me.

  'Don't mention it,' he said. 'I got myself into many similar scrapes at his age.'

  'What do you say, Harry?' I demanded.

  'Thank you very much, sir,' said Harry dutifully. 'And don't tell anyone I got scared, will you?' he added.

  'Your secret's safe with me, Harry,' said Mr Stevens solemnly, shaking his hand, man to man.

  Harry ran off happily and I found myself quite falling under the spell of the magnificent Mr Stevens as he chatted easily to me. I didn't notice Lord Sandford's retreat, but when I looked about me, he was gone. I would have liked to speak to Mr Stevens for longer, but we were interrupted by the news that the Queen and Princess Amelia were departing.

  Mr Stevens did not leave my side as we waved off the royal carriage. 'Miss Musgrove, it is rare to converse with such a uniquely intelligent creature as yourself,' he said as the party began to dwindle and his own carriage arrived. 'May I call on you in town during the next few weeks to continue our conversation?'

  'That would be quite acceptable,' I said with a cautious smile, not wishing to give away just how much I had enjoyed his company. I handed him a card for Musgrove House. As I watched him climb into his carriage, I couldn't help noticing his athletic build. He looked at me for one long moment as he closed the door, and I felt as though I might melt under the inten
sity of his gaze.

  And so it was that Lucy and I were equally starry-eyed as we fell into our beds that night. I didn't tell Lucy about Mr Stevens. He was as handsome as a Greek god, intelligent as a philosopher – and my secret for now. He was somehow different from everyone else in my circle. And when I pictured him climbing the tree to save Harry, I felt a tingle of excitement run down my spine. I lay awake for a long time thinking of him. For all I knew, I would probably never hear from him again – but how I hoped that I would!

  Chapter Nine

  The next few days were filled with goodbyes. Harry went back to school, Estella went 'home' to Dovetail Hall, and Lucy and Lady Lennox returned to London, as did Papa. I decided to stay with Mama for a while as she was so sad at seeing Estella married into a new family. Her doctor insisted on more bed rest for her.

  I still enjoyed having Rose over to play, but I tried to avoid Lord Sandford. I definitely did not want my motives to be mis-read again.

  After a couple of weeks I began to long for the city and my dear friend Lucy, but I was reluctant to leave Mama, and I didn't think she was yet well enough to undertake the journey again.

  But it was as if my dear mother could read my mind. 'Why don't you go back up to London, darling?' she suggested one morning as we sat together quietly in her room.

  'Won't you be lonely here?' I asked. 'Who will look after you?'

  'There are plenty of local ladies to rally round me, especially Miss Bowes, and I have Lottie,' Mama replied. 'Go on,' she urged. 'It will do you good to get back to the city.'

  After a few days I agreed to go up to London to conclude the Season.

  'I hear from our Miss Larch that Lord Sandford has headed up there for a week or more. Perhaps he will visit you?' Mama said.

  I could not lie to my mother. 'Mama, I am not enamoured of Lord Sandford,' I told her. 'I am very sorry if I have given the wrong impression. It was not my intention. I love little Rose, but . . .'

  My mother smiled. 'Ah! Perhaps you like Mr Hughes? He is very handsome – and I think he likes you too, darling.'

  'What makes you say that?' I asked.

  'Well, I know he is gallant, but he came to my aid at the wedding just to please you, didn't he?' replied Mama.

  'Actually, he is naturally very chivalrous, Mama. I am surprised that you are so cynical,' I teased.

  'Ah! Defending him now! So it is Mr Hughes!'

  I decided to go along with my mother's assumptions as they seemed to please her.

  Mrs Willow, Lily, Dinky and I set off for London two days later. I had mixed feelings about the changes that had happened over the last few weeks. I felt that in a very short period of time, I had changed greatly. I seemed to be approaching the world from a different perspective, and I looked back on my old self, thinking I'd been just a silly child.

  I compared myself to Lily and worried about her situation, her income and prospects. She had a hard life, as did so many others. I thought about slavery: was Lucy involved with a man who condoned such cruelties? I wondered. I prayed that Mr Archer was of sound character.

  We arrived in Mayfair tired and hot, and went straight to our rooms to freshen up. Then I went down to find my father. He was in his study.

  'Papa, how nice to see you,' I said, realizing that I had missed him.

  'Sophia, darling, I am delighted to have you back. How is Mama?'

  We discussed her health, and then chatted about the wedding.

  'Did you enjoy it, darling?' my father asked.

  'Yes, Papa. It was lovely. I only hope that dear Estella is happy in her match,' I replied.

  'Yes, I hope so too,' he agreed. 'You looked as pretty as pictures, both of you. In fact, I know of at least one gentleman who thinks you are especially beautiful!'

  'Really? Do tell!' I said, playing along.

  'Why, none other than Lord Sandford himself,' he replied triumphantly.

  My heart sank. Why was everyone asking me about him all of a sudden?

  'Sophia, the day after the wedding his lordship paid me a visit and asked for your hand in marriage. Of course, I said yes, if it was your wish. And from what I saw when I was at the Daisy Park, I was quite sure that it must be your wish. Is this not exciting, darling? To be the mistress of such lovely houses? He's a fine man, from a very distinguished family.'

  I was so horrified that I let out a cry. 'Papa, I am sorry to disappoint you. I can only assume that I have misled Lord Sandford through my interest in little Rose, but I am not ready for a husband, and especially not for one of his great age!'

  Papa's face fell. I hated to let him down, but what else could I do? I often found myself thinking of Mr Stevens – though when I thought of him privately I always called him Marcus – and I knew it would be dishonest of me to encourage Lord Sandford further. Thankfully, it would be easier to avoid him in the wider society of London than in the tiny world of Whistling Sparrows and the Daisy Park.

  'Well then,' said Papa, 'I shall write to him and say that the time is not yet right. We'll see how you feel in a while – how's that?'

  'That sounds like a good idea, Papa,' I agreed, dreading any return to this subject, but grateful for a reprieve.

  'And, Sophia, don't forget to practise your music and embroidery. Such skills are important for a young lady.'

  'Of course, Papa,' I replied, resolving to work harder at my needlework – at which, in truth, I had never excelled.

  Mrs Willow entered as I slipped out into the hallway to read through my letters. I was hoping for a message from Marcus amongst the vast pile of mail awaiting me. As I flicked through, looking for any unfamiliar handwriting, I overheard some snippets of conversation between my father and my chaperone.

  'Mrs Willow, she's changed so much. I don't recognize my girl. She's so headstrong and doesn't attend to my views as she once did.'

  'I know, but don't worry. It is usual for a girl of her age to rebel a little, Lord Musgrove. She's the same lovely girl as ever she was,' replied Mrs Willow reassuringly.

  'Hmm. Estella was not like this, but I dare say you are right. Still, I miss the little Sophia who used to sit on my knee. And as for making Lord Sandford wait – well, the nerve of her! It's almost impressive!' said Papa.

  I didn't hear Mrs Willow's reply as someone knocked at the front door at this point.

  Hawkes opened the door to reveal a messenger. 'I have a letter here for Lord Musgrove. It is most urgent,' he said. 'It has come all the way from Whistling Sparrows near Cheltenham.'

  My heart started to race and beads of perspiration broke out on my forehead. Mama! It must be bad news about Mama! I thought. 'Papa!' I screamed. 'A message from the Daisy Park!'

  Chapter Ten

  Papa burst into the hallway with a look of terror on his face. He grabbed the note from Hawkes and tore it open. I tried to read his face as his lips moved almost silently over the words. His expression became altered but I could not decipher it.

  'Papa!' I implored at last. 'Do tell us what it says!'

  Mrs Willow placed her arm around me, looking just as worried as I was.

  My father scratched his head and a shadow of a smile came over his features. Then he shook his head and muttered, 'Well, I never . . .'

  'Papa!' I cried, almost overcome with curiosity and apprehension.

  'I'm sorry, Sophia, my dear. Mrs Willow, Sophie, please come into the withdrawing room,' he said. Clearly he didn't want the servants to hear the contents of the message.

  Mrs Willow and I huddled together on a sofa for comfort, while Papa stood before us and drew himself up to his full height.

  'Your mother's condition has at last been diagnosed,' he said. 'But I'm afraid that the worry is not over quite yet. You see, your mother, my dear Sophie, is with child. The baby is due in about three months, and your mother will need the most tender care before, during and after the event.'

  I gasped. 'Mama . . . A baby!' I said disbelievingly. I knew how dangerous childbirth was at any age, but my mother was
now forty-two. Still, at least we knew what had been causing her nausea and exhaustion. I wept a little with surprise and relief. Mrs Willow held me in her arms and my father patted my head.

  'It is an explanation. But now we must get her safely through the delivery,' he said. 'Should we bring her to London, or send the finest surgeon out to the country?' he pondered aloud.

  'Don't move her!' advised Mrs Willow. 'She should stay put until the child is born. Oh, I am so pleased to hear of this! An explanation for the suffering – and another infant to cuddle. How delightful!'

  Papa nodded thoughtfully, then frowned. 'I have some work to do,' he said. 'I will bid you both goodnight.' This was typical of him. Whenever he had experienced a shock, he liked to be alone.

  A few days later, I was asked to receive a guest. 'Who is it?' I asked Hawkes.

  He looked at the calling card. 'It's a Mr Stevens, miss.'

  I was suddenly excited and a little nervous all at once. I was delighted that he had come to call on me but anxious to make a good impression. I smoothed my hair, pinched my cheeks to bring a bit of colour into them and took a deep breath before making my way to the receiving room. Mrs Willow bustled along too, of course.

  'Mr Stevens, how are you?' I said as I entered. He rose to his feet and greeted Mrs Willow and me quite beautifully. Then we all sat comfortably in front of the fire, where we were served tea and fruited teacakes.

  'What do you do for your amusement in the city, Mr Stevens?' I enquired.

  He smiled. 'A little politics and a little charity work. Then some cards or boxing of an evening,' he told me.

  'Ah! Politics. My father is a member of Parliament,' I told him.

  'Oh, really? Do you hold any good causes close to your heart, Miss Musgrove? The plight of orphans, or the mistreatment of slaves, perhaps?' he asked.