An Irresistible Temptation (22 page)

When she was ten, Sophie had heard rumblings
across the floor and run downstairs to see what her father had
bought. The Broadwood and Sons grand was still the most beautiful
thing she’d ever seen. She knew its history, that it was made in
1846 and that very few of them were built, and she knew that Queen
Victoria had requested its twin for her Masquerade Ball at
Buckingham Palace in 1851. Indeed, when Sophie sat down at it, with
its thick, richly carved legs and big solid pedals, she felt like a
queen.

Placing her hands on the ivory keys, she
relished their smooth, cool surface and felt instantly transformed,
from a limp, fearful dish rag of a woman to a Titan. Her piano
would not let her fail, even if she came to it blind and deaf. She
closed her eyes and struck a chord, then another. Then she began to
play. It came out of her as easily as breathing.

Even so, she felt her hand cramp; after all,
the muscles in her healing fingers were weak. She shook it and
wiggled her fingers, ignoring the pangs, then briskly rubbed her
palms together before starting again.

Yes, she was sore and out of practice, but
her hand worked, and she played one of Bach’s sonatas before her
mother came up behind her.

“I’ve missed hearing you, my dear
Sophie.”

Tears started to prick her eyes. How could
she cause her mother more pain by leaving again?

“Tea is ready, dear. Come sit with me and
tell me everything.”

Sophie nodded but didn’t look up until she
could get her emotions in check.

“I’ll be right in, Mama. Has Mr. Wainright
left?”

“Not yet. Don’t you want to say goodbye?”

“Please tell him I’m tired and will see him
another day.”

She felt her mother hesitate and then walk
away. Sophie closed her eyes and lingered another few minutes at
the piano, fortifying herself before following to the parlor. Only
her mother and her youngest sister, Rose, were there.

“Are you all right?” her mother asked, as
Sophie hesitated by the side board to pour herself a cup of
tea.

“Yes, Mama.”

“Well, you look peaked,” Rose said, scooting
over on the velvet divan and patting the space beside her in
invitation to her sister. “But the music was beautiful. I wish I
could do that.”

They both smiled, knowing that Rose didn’t
have the patience to practice music or needlepoint or drawing, for
that matter. The fairer arts were not her forte.

“Where’s Reed?” Sophie was sitting with her
sister and hoping her big brother was intending to visit soon.
My goodness! How I must have matured if I want him to lecture me
and tell me what to do.
But as she sipped her tea, she realized
that she did, in fact, want exactly that.

“Tell me why you had me show Mr. Wainright
the door, dear, especially after he went such a long way to find
you and bring you home.”

“Oh, we’ve spent so much time in each other’s
company,” Sophie professed. “I want to have you two to myself.”

Her mother and Rose exchanged glances.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Rose said, “I
mean, not if you’re going to marry the man. Shouldn’t you feel as
comfy with him, like family, as you do with us?”

“Mm,” Sophie agreed, noncommittally.

“Sophie,” her mother said, drawing out her
name in query. “You traveled across the entire country alone with
‘the man,’ as your sister calls him. Do you intend to marry him, or
not?”

Sophie sighed. “First of all, Mama, we were
not alone, not even for an instant. I have any number of passengers
who can attest to that. Secondly, I don’t know. I mean, I do know,
but no one will like my answer, particularly Philip, so I shall
keep it to myself at present.”

She spent a long moment choosing a biscuit
from the tray on the low table in front of her, to keep from
viewing what she was sure was her mother’s stricken expression.
Sophie ate it in silence and then leaned back.

“Let me tell you all about San Francisco and
then Martha can draw me a bath.” Sophie launched into her
remembrances, trying to make them see the city through her eyes.
The ingenious cable cars, the steep hills all leading to the
beautiful bay, and the people she’d met. She left out Riley, of
course, uncertain whether she could even mention him without her
emotions showing through.

“I think I want to see it for myself,” Rose
said, her eyes bright and wistful.

“Don’t you get any ideas, young lady. I have
one daughter back and I don’t intend to lose another just yet.” Her
mother stood up. “Come on, Sophie, have a bath and a rest. Maybe
Reed will come for dinner with his family.”

As it turned out, he didn’t. The next
morning, Sophie had to bear the interrogation of her sister and
mother again until her older sister Elise arrived with her two
children and started the whole questioning once more. Soon, they
knew of her job in the bar and her accident. It helped allay their
initial alarm that her hand now appeared unblemished.

Whenever possible, Sophie escaped to her
piano and wondered how she could ever leave it again. She was
playing after lunch, lost in Mendelssohn’s
Concerto No. 2
with all its sweetness and sadness when, a hand touched her
shoulder.

“Reed,” she exclaimed, jumping up to hug him.
He lifted her and swung her in a circle.

He searched her face with his intelligent,
dark blue eyes and she moved a lock of hair, as black as her own,
off his forehead. He smiled. “I have missed you, dear sister.”

“And I, too,” she murmured. She might cry, so
happy was she to be in his comforting arms. Her brother always
understood her heart and made everything seem better. And after her
father passed away, he was the only male whose arms she could relax
in whom she knew had no interest in her other than pure familial
love. He was the one who made sure she went to Rome to study
music.

“I would have come yesterday, but Emory had a
runny nose and Charlotte didn’t want to take him out of the house.
She’ll be by tomorrow to see you.”

Secretly, Sophie was glad that it was Reed
alone. She loved Charlotte like a sister, but, at this moment, she
had enough of those.

Stepping away from him, she fixed Reed with a
serious gaze. “I need to talk to you.”

“Uh-oh. It must be serious if you want to
confide in me.”

“Well, it’s certainly something I would have
spoken with Father about.” She ran her hand over the keys one more
time and then closed the cover. She took his arm and they went to
her favorite reading place, a window seat overlooking the back
garden.

Sitting side-by-side, Sophie leaned against
him, breathing in his familiar scent of sandalwood.

“I don’t think I want to live here.”

“You don’t mean here in Mother’s house, do
you? You mean in Boston?”

“Correct.” Sophie twiddled her skirt with her
fingers.

“I see.” He was quiet a moment. “And what of
Mr. Wainright? I take it you don’t want to marry him, either.”

Bless Reed’s heart, he was so astute.
“Correct.”

“Then why in blue blazes did you let him
bring you over three thousand miles?”

She jumped at his tone, but had to defend
herself.

“I didn’t ask him to come looking for me in
California. I was taken by surprise. And I had . . . I had other
issues with which to contend.”

He took her right hand in his and carefully
examined it. “Yes, Mother let me know about the injury. You were
very lucky. You should have sent me a telegram.”

“I would have been brought back here
straightaway if I had.”

“True,” he said, “and rightly so.”

Sophie bit her lower lip. Her hand injury
seemed far less important now than the emotional turmoil she
felt.

Reed peered into her solemn face. “So, what’s
wrong between you and Mr. Wainright? You used to be smitten with
him. I remember your long face when he went to Oxford.”

“You know that electric feeling between you
and Charlotte?”

He stiffened and she laughed. “I know that
you don’t like to discuss your personal life, but Charlotte told me
once how every time you look at her, she feels like . . . well,
like she is sizzling.”

A slow smiled spread across his handsome
visage. “She said that?”

“See, even your reaction speaks volumes. I
know you can’t wait to leave me and get back to your wife’s side
and kiss her passionately.”

“Sophie!”

“Well, true or not?”

“True,” he admitted, “but we were supposed to
be talking about you.”

“I want that feeling, that sizzle.”

Reed coughed, clearly unsure of his footing
with this delicate topic. “And you don’t think you feel ‘that
sizzle’ with Mr. Wainright?”

“I know I don’t. I’ve felt it—” she broke
off. She had no intention of telling him about Riley, at least, not
everything. After all, that was now over and done with. But the
words had already slipped out, and Reed, being Reed, was not only
her older brother but the best lawyer on the east coast. He would
get out of her what he wanted to know.

His face was impassive. “Have you, dear
sister?”

“Oh, don’t get your tie in a twist. I’m old
enough to know what I feel.”

He ran a hand over his forehead and ended up
pinching the bridge of his nose. “So, where’s this man you sizzled
with?”

She blushed but answered, “He’s marrying
someone else.” Her breath caught and she lowered her eyes. “Or he’s
already married by this time.”

“Sophie.” His quietly serious tone brought
her gaze back to his. He scowled and Sophie watched his jaw tighten
before he asked, “Do I need to settle matters with him?”

Good God. She could just imagine Reed heading
across the country to give Riley a good thrashing. She had a
feeling it would be evenly matched, except that honorable Riley
would most likely take a beating without throwing a punch in his
own defense.

“No, please, Reed. It wasn’t like that. We
had feelings for each other, but I knew he was spoken for. He was
honest with me from the start.”

Reed studied her face for a moment. “I see.
So, you came home, tail between your legs, hoping you could settle
for Wainright.”

“Something along those lines. But I
can’t.”

“Nor should you. This other scoundrel—” He
paused when she shook her head at his characterization of Riley.
“This other fellow may be taken, but you don’t have to make do. Nor
do you have to live here under Mother’s watchful eye if you don’t
want to. I admit, though, I love having you home.”

She sighed. “Reed, I loved living in San
Francisco.”

“Because of this fellow?”

She had asked herself that very same
question. “I thought so at first, but, no, not because of him. I
like making my own way in the world. Here, everyone knows our
family. Everything is handed to us.”

“I wouldn’t say that, but I know what you
mean. Here, you live under the Malloy shadow, as well as the
family’s expectations.”

“Exactly. In San Francisco, life is exciting
. . . and the air smells different and the light is brighter
somehow.” She clapped her hands with uncontainable excitement. “And
I made some wonderful friends in a short time. Besides, with train
travel what it is, I could come visit at least twice a year.”

He put his arm around her shoulders. “That
doesn’t seem like very much visiting, but we can negotiate. That
is, if I put in a word with Mother to calm her down.”

“Would you?”

He smiled. “I will. But what about
Wainright?”

Sophie made a face. “I tried to tell him on
the train, but he practically patted me on the head and as good as
told me I’d get used to my new life.”

“Which he sees as?”

“As my being his wife, of course, while he is
a professor at Harvard. That’s after he finishes his philosophy
degree.”

“Sounds boring as dirt, probably similar to
being a lawyer’s wife,” Reed remarked wryly. Sophie punched him
playfully. “In all seriousness,” Reed continued, “I’m sure
Wainright’s life would be perfectly suitable for some other lady,
but not for you.”

She knew Reed would understand. She hugged
him fiercely.

He lifted her chin and looked her in the eye.
“I’m sorry, though, if you got your heart bruised by some
blackguard out west.”

“No, no, I promise you, that’s not how it
was. There was just something between us, so magical and
inexplicable.” Sophie knew her tone was wistful. “But all along, we
knew we had no future.”

“Sorry, pet. I hope you find it again.”

“Find what again?” asked Philip.

Sophie jumped. Philip had entered silently
through the hall doorway beside them.

Reed gave his sister another hug then stood
up. “I think I will leave you two to talk.” He patted Philip on the
shoulder as he passed.

“Why did that feel like a condolence?”
Philip’s brow puckered with worry.

“Sit and talk with me,” Sophie said, scooting
over to give him room.

“All right, but I’m feeling less happy by the
moment.”

She steeled herself to keep from feeling
sorry for him. “Philip, why did you choose to go to Oxford by
yourself?”

He scowled. “I thought we’d been over this
before.”

“We have, but do you remember that last day
in my apartment when you came to say goodbye”

“Of course.”

“You were so eager to start your new life,
full of excitement for the future.”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t see me in your future.”

“I believed you were part of my old life and
I wanted everything new. But I was wrong.”

“I don’t think you were.” She clasped her
hands on her lap. “If you loved me as you think you did, you would
have wanted to share that new life with me. You would have wanted
to explore Oxford with me by your side. I don’t think it was only a
new town or university you wanted. I think you wanted to feel a
passionate new love, too.”