Miss Sophie's Secret

by Fran Baker

  “Mrs. Cherrill.”

  “Ah, yes.”

  “You should see your face, Jonathan!” Sophie said, laughing suddenly. “You have the most cunning expression.”

  He chuckled. “I only intend to throw out a bit of rope and allow anyone to hang himself who will. We’ll see what face Albert shows us.”

  “In what way?” she pressed him. “What do you intend to do?”

  “I’m not going to tell you,” he said. “It’ll be more entertaining for you if you’re surprised.”

  “Then I shall go upstairs and freshen myself before tea time,” she said. “Perhaps Anna will have some entertaining news from the servants’ hall.”

  Jonathan clucked his tongue. “Don’t tell me you listen to servants’ gossip, Miss Althorpe.”

  “Yes, Mr. Gray, I do,” Sophie admitted. “All sorts of exciting things are going on below stairs. Johnnie Aysgarth has run completely amok since coming to London and is in hot pursuit of every unmarried girl in the kitchen. He’ll undoubtedly sire children by Charity Barner and Mary Chayney before many more weeks are out.”

  Jonathan grinned at her. “You received this information from Anna Finch, I’ve no doubt.”

  “Why yes,” she said. “How did you know?”

  “Because she’s in love with him, herself. It’s common knowledge. And he’s in love with her. All this slander about Charity and Mary is utter nonsense.”

  Sophie looked at him askance. “What makes you think Johnnie is in love with Anna?”

  “He told me so.”

  “He told you! Then what shall we do to help them straighten out their muddle?”

  “Nothing,” he said. “Let Mother Nature solve it for them. She will do a much better job than either you or I.

  Sophie slipped her hand into his, and they walked out the door and up the staircase. “I think, all the same, that I’ll tell—”

  Jonathan caught her around the waist at the top of the stairs and drew her back down the staircase, then stood holding her. He put a finger to his lips.

  “What is it?” she hissed.

  He shook his head.

  Immediately she realized that he had seen something in the hallway. She turned the other way and managed to duck under his arm, then leaned forward.

  She was in time to discover Anna striding away from them, her arms swinging and her head tilting from side to side. Behind her Johnnie Aysgarth was moving rapidly along on tiptoe. With one easy motion he caught her, swung her around, and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her hard against himself. Before she could utter more than a stifled yelp, he was kissing her soundly, pressing her body against the wall with his own.

  Sophie retreated to Jonathan’s side.

  His crooked smile sent her heart racing in her chest. “We’ll go back down a few steps and then come up again, talking together in our normal voices.”

  She nodded, and they retreated halfway down the staircase.

  “What shall we say?” she hissed. “Shall we discuss the terrible weather?”

  “No,” he said. “That will sound too false. Let’s discuss Elizabeth’s wedding.”

  “Oh, yes!” she said. “Let’s do that. It’s the day after tomorrow.”

  He began to guide her back up the staircase. “I’ve heard that they’re planning some sort of remarkable table decorations for the wedding supper.”

  “Really? What are they?”

  “It’s a secret. No one knows but the Binghams and the decorators.”

  They reached the top and put their heads around the corner. Anna and Johnnie had both disappeared. Sophie found, to her surprise, that she was disappointed. She hurried to her room and seated herself at her dressing table. Anna came striding in, and Sophie was pleased to see that her cheeks were flushed and her hair struggling out of its pins.

  “Well, Anna,” she said, “is it only my imagination, or is the day not quite so gray as it was? I seem to detect a lightening of the sky. Perhaps the sun will surprise us and peep through.”

  “Aye, miss,” Anna said, a happy smile spreading over her face. “’Tis brighter, to be sure.”

  * * * *

  The snow was still falling steadily when Sophie awoke the following morning.

  “It is as though we’re bewitched,” she told Anna when the girl arrived with a pot of tea on a tray. “Do you have the feeling this storm will never end?”

  Anna, who was looking pink and contented, smiled and laid the tray across her lap. “No, miss. Johnnie Aysgarth an’ I be pledgin’ our troth today.”

  “What!” Sophie exclaimed, struggling up and nearly upsetting the tea.

  “Miss Sophie!” Anna protested. “You be makin’ a mess for me to clean.”

  “Sorry,” she said, sitting back meekly while Anna readjusted the tray. “But tell me everything, Anna. When did you and Johnnie work out your differences?”

  “Last night. I were a widgeon, Miss Sophie. Mary an’ Charity ain’t nothin’ to Johnnie.”

  “I’m certain that’s true. But when is the ceremony?”

  “It be oop to ’er ladyship.”

  “Ah,” Sophie said. “I’ll consult with her, then.”

  Anna turned her back on Sophie and opened a clothes-press to draw out a dress for the day. Sophie gazed somberly at the white curtain of snow that was blowing across the window. She sighed at the thought that everyone seemed to be happy but her.

  As soon as Anna had dressed her in a warm sea-green gown, Sophie made her way downstairs to find Jonathan. She was halfway down the staircase when she became aware of sounds inside the yellow salon. The door was open, and a strong masculine voice could be heard intoning some remarkably resonant phrases. She wondered if it could be possible that Edmund Kean was paying a visit. Then she realized that the voice sounded very much like Albert’s—though it was lower and more intense.

  “But I’ve only pretended to admire Sophie in order to be close to you,” he was saying. “Can’t you see that? What does it matter about our ages?”

  The tug of curiosity proved too strong for Sophie to resist. She tiptoed down the stairs, across the marble floor to the door of the yellow salon, and peeked around the jamb.

  To her surprise, Lady Biskup was sitting stiffly on a white satin chair, her mouth tightly shut and her brow pulled down in a furious scowl. Albert was standing in front of her.

  “Wretch!” she shrieked. “How dare you speak to me in this manner! Your audacity is beyond belief! Get out of my sight!”

  “But you don’t understand,” Albert protested.

  “I understand all too well!”

  Sophie heard movement beside her and turned to find Jonathan leaning against the door frame. “Aunt Ruth? May I be of assistance?”

  Lady Biskup grabbed hold of the bell pull and yanked it again and again in a frantic rhythm. Within seconds the room was flooded with footmen.

  Leeds tottered in behind them and, bowing, asked with great solemnity, “Yes, m’lady?”

  “Show this man out!” she shouted. “And never admit him to this house again!”

  “Yes, m’lady,” Leeds replied.

  Before anyone could move, Albert turned and strode angrily to the door. Leeds and the footmen scampered after him. As he passed Jonathan, his face took on a frightening expression.

  “I have you to thank for this,” he spat.

  Jonathan shook his head. “You have your own stupidity and greed.”

  “You’ve not seen the last of me,” he warned.

  He wrenched open the door and marched out, leaving it gaping wide, with snow and ice blowing in across the floor. Sophie hurried into the shelter of the yellow salon. Edmund McCoy and one of his assistants wrestled the door closed.

  “Well,” Jonathan said, a strong tone of satisfaction in his voice, “on a note of high melodrama, the villain departs.”

  “You rascal!” Lady Biskup laughed. “How did you manage to contrive such a scene?”

  Jonathan grinned at her. “I mere
ly hinted to Mrs. Cherrill that it was you, not Sophie, who has been the recipient of Lord Reginald’s largesse. Though I must admit that I didn’t expect Albert to fall so easily into my trap. I was under the impression that he was more intelligent than this, and certainly more cautious.”

  Lady Biskup snorted. “He is obviously neither. But at least his true character has been revealed and we shall never be obliged to deal with him again.”

  Sophie put a hand on Jonathan’s arm. “He had the most dreadful expression on his face,” she said. “I fear you were right when you said he’s dangerous.”

  “I think there is no doubt that he is,” he agreed.

  She slipped her hand into Jonathan’s as Leeds entered the room.

  “The earl of Brookside, m’lady,” he announced. “I have taken the liberty of placing him in the blue withdrawing room.”

  “Indeed,” Lady Biskup exclaimed on a happy note. “How delightful of Henry to call in this dreadful weather. He was my dearest friend many years ago.” She smoothed her skirt with her hands and went out of the room.

  Sophie considered Jonathan anxiously. “What do you mean to do, now that you’ve taken Albert’s true measure?”

  He thought a moment. “Nothing at this time. We must wait for him to make a move. But at least Aunt Ruth believes me now. She won’t be constantly pooh-poohing my suspicions.”

  “Then it really was he who contrived to have you crushed by the runaway team of grays,” she mused.

  “And hired the footpads who attacked me as well.”

  An animal lover, Sophie was worried about the horses. “Where are the grays now?”

  “In our stables,” he said, assuaging her concern. “No one has been so foolhardy as to claim them.”

  A rumbling sound caused the young couple to glance at each other in alarm, then scamper to the door. A herd of footmen was ushering Brookside across the vestibule.

  “Ruth,” he was protesting. “You must listen to reason!”

  “I have nothing more to say,” she announced.

  Leeds opened the front door and bowed low before the earl, who stood scowling at him for a moment before marching out into the storm.

  “I have never been so disgusted!” Lady Biskup muttered, marching past them and up the central staircase. She stopped halfway up and turned to the crowd of servants below her.

  “Leeds,” she said. “Make it perfectly clear to everyone who calls that Lady Biskup is accepting no offers of marriage today!”

  “Yes, m’lady,” Leeds said.

  With a toss of her head she mounted the remainder of the staircase and disappeared down a branching hallway.

  Jonathan shrugged and smiled. “It had slipped my mind that there are fortunes other than Albert’s which require mending.”

  Chapter 12

  Sophie was sitting at her dressing table, buffing her fingernails, when she received word that Lady Biskup wished to see her at the head of the central staircase. She found her aunt smoothing her skirt and muttering impatiently to herself.

  “It is Blanche,” she announced. “Indeed, I can’t imagine what sort of bee she has buzzing about in her bonnet, but it must be a powerful one to bring her out in this storm. She demands—yes, that is correct, demands—to see us both.”

  She swept down the stairs and across the vestibule with Sophie scurrying at her side. When Leeds opened the door and they stepped into the yellow salon, they found Lady Englewood on the opposite side of the room, pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, her head down and her lips working.

  “So!” she trumpeted. “You have the courage to face me? I am surprised.” She trembled. “To think that you have been plotting and scheming all these days—smiling and simpering, pretending to be cordial, while all the time you were—”

  “Simpering!” Lady Biskup cried.

  Sophie walked to Lady Englewood’s side and put a hand on her arm. “Please, Aunt Blanche—”

  Her aunt jerked away from her. “You wretched girl! It is the shabbiest thing! No, it is worse. It is wicked! To deceive your own family in this manner!” She stamped her foot. “I cannot bear it!”

  “Good God!” Lady Biskup muttered. “The woman has become unhinged. I have foreseen this.”

  “When I think of the endless devices I have employed to keep them apart, the lengths to which I have gone! And all the while you were laughing up your sleeves at me, you”—she leaned her face toward Lady Biskup’s and pushed out her chin—“you vipers!”

  Lady Biskup turned away, folded her arms, and stared grimly at the nearest window. “When you have spewed all your malice and calmed yourself, Blanche, you may explain the meaning of this diatribe. I am controlling my temper for my dear brother’s sake.”

  Lady Englewood waved a fist in the air. “She actually loved him! Do you realize that? You have broken her heart!”

  Sophie started. “Whose heart, Aunt?”

  “Jeanette’s, of course. She has loved him since she was a child. And, fool that I was, I did everything in my power to drive him away. Now I learn that he is even richer than Fairmont and every bit as exalted.”

  Lady Englewood glared at Lady Biskup. “It is your fault that they have been torn asunder. You’ve plotted and connived to ensnare him for Sophie, who has no need for a rich husband. She could marry Ferguson, if she wished. And now you have spoiled Jeanette’s chances with Fairmont.”

  Lady Biskup glared right back at her. “I have never heard such drivel! Who is this Midas whom we have plotted to ensnare, pray tell? And why should Sophie wish to marry Ferguson, who is engaged to marry Kathleen Bingham? You’ve slipped a cog, dear Sister. I shall be obliged to summon Edgar and have you carted off to Bedlam.”

  Lady Englewood shook from head to toe. “I should have realized that you would answer me in this manner. I was a fool to come here.” She strode to the door. “I wish it to be known that I herewith sever all relationship with you. I shall never utter your names again. To me, you shall henceforward be as dead!”

  Sophie caught her by the elbow. “Aunt Blanche, wait. You are speaking of Jonathan, are you not?”

  “Of course I am speaking of Jonathan! And I could forgive you for plotting his entrapment if you were poor and unconnected. That I could understand. But with a fortune such as yours, you could marry . . .” She groped for a name. “You could marry the duke of Cambridge, if you were so disposed. And to pretend that dear Jonathan is a mere nobody, when he is actually Vaile, with all the estates and honors . . .”

  “I have never pretended he is a nobody,” Lady Biskup growled. “He is the most excellent young man of my acquaintance! I have argued in his favor many times.”

  “All part of your cunning!” Lady Englewood cried. “You have been too clever by half.”

  Sophie frowned. “What do you mean by ‘a fortune such as yours,’ Aunt Blanche? Is my Aunt Biskup so rich after all?”

  Lady Englewood ground her teeth. “I shall not attempt to reason with you. I have never known such wickedness!”

  She opened the door and marched out, slamming it shut with a crash that drew a whimper of sympathy from the windows. Sophie turned in bewilderment to Lady Biskup. “What is she talking about, Aunt Ruth? Is it possible that Jonathan is Vaile?”

  “I have no idea,” she admitted. “Yes, it is probably true. It is logical, after all. He is purported to be the son of Michael Gray. And Michael’s father was a nephew of the first earl.”

  Sophie shook her head in confusion. “Why didn’t Jonathan tell us?”

  Lady Biskup sighed. “No doubt he assumed that we knew. And we didn’t ask, because it didn’t matter to us. He is Jonathan—our Jonathan—and whatever else he might be is immaterial.”

  Just then the subject of their conversation opened the door and entered the room. “I’ve met Aunt Blanche and been roundly castigated,” he told them. “In fact, she called me a serpent, and a great many other unpleasant things.”

  Sophie crossed the room and put a hand on hi
s arm. “Jonathan? Is it true that you are now Vaile?”

  “Why, yes,” he said, looking down at her in surprise. “Do you mean to tell me you didn’t know?”

  Lady Biskup shook her head. “We’ve been so lost in our grief over Lord Reginald’s passing that we’ve not given it a thought. And that horrid Mr. Sanders refused to tell me anything.”

  “That’s why I was mustered out of the army,” he explained. “I wondered why the servants continued to address me as ‘Master Jonathan’.”

  “I’m guilty of that as well,” Lady Biskup admitted.

  “I inferred that it was through affection.”

  “We all harbor the warmest possible feelings for you,” Lady Biskup assured him. “But I shall explain matters to Leeds and ensure that the staff treats you with proper respect in the future.”

  Sophie was watching his face curiously. “And is this your house, then? Are we living on your generosity?”

  “No, this is your house,” he told her, smiling. “I am living on your generosity. Lord Reginald divided his estate; the entailed portion came to me with the title, and the other part he bequeathed to you.”

  “Did Albert know this?” Sophie asked him.

  “He knew that I had inherited the title. Everyone who was directly affected was informed immediately. That was Albert, who is next in line, and Bertie Williams, who comes after Albert. But the other details of Lord Reginald’s will were kept secret, by his request. That’s why Albert didn’t know whether you or Aunt Ruth had inherited anything.”

  “Why the secrecy?”

  He shrugged and shook his head.

  After a moment’s thought, she asked, “Am I very rich?”

  Now he nodded. “You and I are the prize packages on the marriage market.” An ironic smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “Did you ever imagine that two country bumpkins such as ourselves would achieve such notoriety?”

  * * * *

  During the afternoon there was a slight lull in the snowfall. Sophie was in her room when she heard the jingle of harness on the front drive. Rushing to a window, she discovered Nicky arriving with Jeanette and Ellen in his perch phaeton.