Sophie's Voice

by HELEN HARDT

  Sophie inhaled and let her breath out slowly. “It’s my lady, if you please. I am Lady Sophie MacIntyre, and I wish to speak to…whomever is in charge of arresting Mr. Zachary Newland.”

  “Yep, Mr. Newland was just brought in. Got him in a holding cell at the moment.”

  Sophie shivered. The thought of Zach being stuck in a tiny cell… Oh, she could not bear it. “You have made a terrible mistake.”

  “I’m afraid the evidence we have against Mr. Newland is overwhelming.”

  “I don’t care how overwhelming your evidence might be. Mr. Newland is innocent, and I can prove it.”

  “And who exactly are you, my lady?”

  “I just told you. I am Lady Sophie MacIntyre. I am the lead soprano in his new production. We’ve been working together for the last couple of weeks.”

  “A lady of the peerage rehearsing for a musicale?”

  Sophie’s cheeks warmed. “Yes. I, a lady of the peerage, am now the lead soprano in Zachary Newland’s company at the Regal Theatre. I am proud and honored to be a part of his company.”

  The clerk’s cheeks reddened. “Of course, my lady. I meant no disrespect. But I’m afraid that unless you were with Mr. Newland at midnight last night, you cannot offer any proof of his innocence.”

  Sophie opened her mouth to speak, but her lips trembled.

  The clerk narrowed his eyes. “Oh…I see. My lady, are you sure you want to do this?”

  Sophie nodded. She was sure. More sure than she’d ever been about anything.

  “I assure you, telling lies to save your employer is not a wise decision.”

  Sophie stood on her tiptoes to appear taller. “Who says I’m going to be telling lies?”

  “I see.” The clerk shuffled some papers on his desk. “Mr. Newland is conferring with a solicitor at the moment. I will let them know you’re here. Please do have a seat.” He pointed to some uncomfortable-looking wooden benches.

  Sophie nodded, walked away from the desk, and sat on one of the benches. Yes, they were indeed uncomfortable, especially on her sore bum.

  In a few moments, a constable appeared and escorted her to a room where Zach sat with a man she didn’t know. “Gentlemen,” the constable said, “here’s Lady Sophie MacIntyre.”

  He shut the door behind him, leaving the room.

  “Sophie”—Zach stood—“what are you doing here?”

  “I’ve come to prove your innocence.”

  “I can’t let you do that.”

  “Newland,” the other gentleman said, “if the lady is willing—”

  “No.” Zach pounded his fist on the table. “I won’t let her ruin herself.”

  The other man stood. “My name is Declan Tate. I’m Mr. Newland’s solicitor. I will be preparing his case for one of the barristers.”

  Sophie curtsied politely. “Would you please tell him to let me help him?”

  “Believe me, I want nothing more than for you to help him. My client is innocent, as we both know. And unfortunately, you’re the only one who can prove that.”

  “I’m willing.”

  “Sophie,” Zach said, “have you thought this through?”

  “What is there to think through? I cannot let an innocent man go to the gallows when what I know can save him. Especially not you. You’re…too important to me.”

  Zach’s lips trembled. “But your reputation…”

  “My reputation?” Sophie shook her head. “Do you really think my reputation is more important than your life?”

  Mr. Tate nodded. “The lady is quite right, Newland.”

  “You’ll be ruined.”

  “I’m ruined anyway, Zach. I have been since the first time you laid a hand on me. And you know what? I didn’t care then, and I don’t care now. I care about you. I will not let you hang for something you didn’t do when I can stop it. Now bring in the constable, and I will make my statement.”

  Zach shook his head. “No one has ever been willing to do something like this for me. You’re putting my needs above your own. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

  “I’m not doing it in any expectation of repayment. I’m doing it because it’s the right thing to do. You know as well as I do that it is, and I would like to think you would do the same thing for me if our positions were reversed.”

  “Of course I would, only I wouldn’t be the one ruined. You would be.”

  “Well, as Ally would say, that is just the way of the world. We women don’t get a fair shot. Perhaps in the future we will, but for now I have to accept life for what it is. I’m sure I will be the fodder of much gossip. But Ally, who I respect more than anyone in the world, never cared about that. Why should I? Now”—she nodded to Tate—“could you please find a constable and bring him in?”

  Tate nodded and left the room.

  Zach took Sophie’s hands in his own. “Are you sure you want to do this, my sweet?”

  Sophie wiped a tear rivering down her cheek. “I can’t bear the thought of you locked up in here when you didn’t do anything wrong. Besides, I know who did this.”

  “You do?”

  Sophie shook her head. “Well, I don’t know actually, but someone has been sending me notes. I had assumed they were from you.”

  “No, I haven’t sent you any notes. What kind of notes?”

  “They seemed innocuous at first, but then I got one this morning. It said that Nanette would no longer be a thorn in my side.”

  Zach caressed her cheek. “You could be in danger, sweet, and I can’t bear the thought of that. Tell the constable about the notes, Sophie. Perhaps they will lead to the real killer, and you will be safe.”

  “I will tell him. And believe me, I don’t regret what I’m about to do. I don’t regret any of the time I’ve spent with you.”

  “Nor do I. And Sophie, for what it’s worth…thank you. For saving me. And I don’t just mean today.”

  Sophie smiled. She truly didn’t know what he was referring to, but if he could remember their times with pleasure, she would be all right, no matter what their future held.

  * * *

  After Sophie’s statement, Zach was released. However, the theatre would be closed for a few days while the inspectors continued to gather evidence. It would open again next week, and rehearsals would continue. Zach had high hopes that the production could still go on schedule. It would just require some long days and a lot of work. He had to cancel the dinner with his benefactors as well.

  Something niggled at the back of his neck. Who had been writing Sophie those notes? Whoever it was had probably murdered Nanette. Nanette had been unkind to Sophie on more than one occasion and had assaulted her.

  Worry nagged at him. Sophie was not safe. Whoever was writing those notes was a threat to her and had tried to frame him for Nanette’s murder. That much was clear, for the killer had used her lifeless fingers to form the letters Z-A-C in her blood.

  He had to protect Sophie. As for Nanette, he’d let the inspectors do their job. He was exonerated, and though it pained him to know what Sophie would go through because of it, he couldn’t be sorry. To know that there was a person in the world who would do something like that for him…

  He had never imagined being that special to anyone.

  And the truth was, Sophie was also that special to him. He had to find out who had been writing those notes. Zach Newland was not a killer, but if he got his hands around the neck of whomever was threatening Sophie, he might turn into one. Her safety was paramount.

  Once all of this died down, he would go to Sophie, confess his love, and ask for her hand—that is, if Brighton didn’t come to him and demand he do so first. Her stepfather may not think he was good enough for her, but he had compromised her now, and soon everyone would know. If the earl forced Sophie to marry Zach, he would have what he wanted most in the world.

  Zach hoped with all his heart that she wanted him, too.

  * * *

  A few days later, gossip and innuendo started t
o spread. Sophie’s mother and the earl called her into Brighton’s office for the talk that Sophie had been dreading.

  “Please, sit down, Sophie,” the earl said, nodding to one of the chairs in front of his desk. He sat down behind his desk.

  Iris sat next to the desk, in another leather chair.

  Sophie sat, her skin tingling all over. The time of reckoning had come.

  “I suppose you can guess why your mother and I have called you in here to speak to us.”

  Sophie nodded.

  “We want you to know that we don’t blame you for this, Sophie,” Iris said, her eyes kind.

  Sophie furrowed her brow. They didn’t blame her? Well…that was good. And confusing.

  Brighton cleared his throat. “We’re very sorry that you had to go through this. I assure you that the man has been in my employ since he was a lad, and I never thought him capable of such things.”

  Confusion muddled Sophie’s brain. What were they talking about?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “He is gone, and he will never bother you again.”

  Should she go along? Evidently they hadn’t heard any gossip regarding her and Zach. Maybe she was imagining that it was flowing like the wind through the city of Bath and its outlying areas. Perhaps Zach and the solicitor had found a way to keep it quiet.

  “I’m so sorry, my lord, but I am sure I do not know what you are talking about.”

  Iris stood, walked to Sophie, and sat down in the chair next to her, taking her hand. “My dear, we’re talking about Bertram, of course.”

  “Bertram?”

  “Yes. But now I’m confounded. You indicated that you knew what we were talking about.”

  Sophie warmed. “I’m sorry, Mother. I was confused. My mind has been so cluttered, with the theatre closing at all. I’ve…not quite known what to do with myself. Thank goodness it’s reopening tomorrow and I can get back to rehearsal.”

  Iris nodded. “Of course, dear.”

  “What’s going on with Bertram, Mother?”

  “Bertram has been dismissed from the estate,” the earl said. “Graves found out that he had been writing secret notes to you. Why did you not inform your mother and me that you were getting notes?”

  Bertram? Young and awkward Bertram? Then again, Sophie was also awkward. Perhaps he felt they were kindred spirits. “They seemed harmless, at least until the last one. I guess I never really thought about who might be sending them.”

  “We’ve spoken to your sister, and she said that you thought Mr. Newland might be sending them.”

  Caught in a lie. That wasn’t good. Since when had she started lying? “At first, yes. Up until the last one, that is. The last one was quite…creepy. I know Zach—er, Mr. Newland—would never have sent it.”

  Brighton cleared his throat. “I’ve spoken to the inspector in charge of Miss Lloyd’s murder investigation. Newland has been exonerated, though the inspector wouldn’t tell me how. They seem to think whoever sent the notes might be responsible for the murder, so Mr. Bertram is being held for questioning.”

  Sophie’s skin froze. “He seemed like such a nice man.”

  “Yes, he did,” the earl said. “He has been on this estate for near twenty years now, since he was a small lad. But Graves says he has been shirking his duties, and then, when Graves discovered that he was the one sending in the notes, your mother and I felt we had no choice but to dismiss him. When I talked to the inspectors and told them that he was the one sending you the notes, things all fell into place.”

  Sophie sighed. “Well, at least they have the right suspect now.”

  “Was this Miss Lloyd a problem for you?” the earl asked.

  “She had no love for me. I took her position in the company, so who can really blame her? She became such a problem that Zach—er, Mr. Newland—had to let her go from the company.”

  The earl nodded. “I see. Well, at least her attacker will be brought to justice.”

  “Yes,” Sophie said. “Though I had no real use for her, she did not deserve to be killed.” She fidgeted. “Is there anything else you wish to speak to me about?”

  Brighton shook his head. “No, my dear. You may go.”

  Sophie forced a smile, stood, and left the office. Her reputation, as far as her parents knew, was still intact. Whether that was a good thing, she couldn’t say. If only she could escape the chill on her skin.

  Mr. Bertram.

  Who would have thought?

  * * *

  Zach tried to keep the evidence that exonerated him under wraps, but gossip was beginning to reach his ears. Meanwhile, the constables had arrested Thelonius Bertram, a servant on the Brighton Estate. He was supposedly the one who had been sending Sophie those notes, and he was now the prime suspect in Nanette’s murder. Mr. Tate said Bertram was maintaining his innocence and denied ever writing notes to Sophie.

  Zach didn’t honestly know what to believe. Nanette had been a true pain in his arse, but he would never have wished death upon her. That said, it was nice not to have her around anymore causing turmoil.

  May Day fast approached, and even though he desperately needed the extra time to make up for the days the theatre had been shut down, he was closing so they could all enjoy the festival. He hoped he could escort Sophie. The earl would probably not allow it, but he would ask anyway.

  He looked around his office, which had been cleaned, the rug replaced—no evidence that a murder had taken place there. He was glad to have his theatre back, but he had a strange feeling that Nanette’s killer was still out there. The young man Bertram hardly seemed the obsessive murdering type. And Zach wasn’t sure why, but sometimes he felt like invisible eyes were watching him, burning holes in his skin—invisible bodies lurking around every corner, like shadows in the darkness.

  Probably just his imagination.

  * * *

  The next day, Zach sat in the earl’s lush office, waiting for Brighton to receive him. Graves had shown him in and told him the master would be in shortly.

  Zach wiped his sweaty palm on his trousers. Why so nervous? He only wanted to escort Sophie to the May Day festival on the morrow. Of course, Brighton had refused him once…

  The door opened, and Brighton strode in, his brow furrowed. Zach stood.

  “Sit down, Newland,” Brighton said, taking his place behind the mammoth desk.

  Zach dropped his bottom back into the leather chair and waited for the earl to speak.

  Brighton shuffled some papers on his desk, clearing his throat. His lips were pursed in a thin line. This didn’t look good.

  “I suppose you know why I’ve called you here,” Brighton finally said.

  Called him here? He’d come of his own accord. “I’m afraid I don’t understand, my lord.”

  “Nonsense. I asked Graves to send word to you yesterday. That is why you’re here, is it not?”

  “I beg pardon, but I received no message from Graves. I’ve been keeping long hours at the theatre to make up for the days we lost, so it’s possible I missed it in my post.”

  “What brings you here, then?”

  “I’m here to ask permission to escort Lady Sophie to the May Day festival.”

  Brighton pounded his fist on the desk, shaking the giant structure. A granite paperweight fell to the floor perilously close to Zach’s toes. “You sit there and tell me you have no idea why I wished to see you? And you have the nerve to ask to escort my stepdaughter to a festival when I told you in no uncertain terms you could not court her?”

  Zach’s heart quickened. “That is exactly what I’m saying, my lord.”

  Brighton shook his head. “The truth is, Newland, my wife spoke to me about your possible courtship of Sophie. It seems Sophie is quite fond of you and wanted the courtship. I was ready to allow it, until…”

  “Until what?” Zach stomach plummeted. This could only be heading in one direction.

  “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out that you compromised my stepdaugh
ter, Newland?”

  Zach let out a cough. “No, my lord. I didn’t think you wouldn’t find out. But please understand that—”

  “Be silent!” The earl’s fist came down on the desk again. “I shall do the talking here.”

  Zach’s temper ignited. He was a good man, damn it, and he didn’t deserve to be treated so disrespectfully. “If you do all the talking, this won’t be a conversation.”

  “It doesn’t have to be. You’ll listen and do as I say. You’ve compromised Sophie, so you must do right by her.”

  “Marry her, you mean?” Zach’s heart sped.

  “Yes.”

  “That is hardly a hardship to me, my lord. I love Sophie.” The cannonball that had been weighing on him lifted. How freeing to say the words!

  The earl cleared his throat again. “Love is neither here nor there. You will marry her regardless.”

  Zach couldn’t help a smile. “It will be my honor to make her my wife. I shall propose to her soon.”

  “Not so fast. I still don’t think you’re good enough for her. If Sophie weren’t so fond of you, I’d beat you to a pulp with my bare hands for what you’ve done.”

  Zach let the hypocrisy slide. He knew well the story of the earl and countess. They had met some twenty years ago, both married to others, and fallen in love and consummated their adulterous union. Sophie had told him. She’d also told him of the earl’s own son, Evan, and her sister, Ally. He’d ruined her as well. Zach glued his lips shut. No good would come of voicing these ironies.

  “I guess I should be happy the lady is fond of me, then,” Zach said. “I assure you I’m more than fond of her. You’re wrong about me, my lord. I’m a good man with a good business. I will take care of Sophie.”

  “Just see that you do.” Brighton returned to a document on his desk.

  Was that his cue to leave? Zach stood. “Please know, my lord, that I didn’t plan to compromise your daughter. We’re drawn together, she and I. We have something…special.”

  Brighton grunted, his gaze not leaving the document.

  Why not continue? “Since Lady Sophie and I are now betrothed in your eyes, may I assume you will have no issue with me escorting her to the festival?”