Miss Sophie's Secret (17 page)

Voices in the vestibule startled Sophie out of her own thoughts. A moment later Leeds ushered Albert into the library. Albert had divested himself of his coat, and with his cheeks stirred by the ongoing snow storm, he was looking especially handsome.

“Ah, here you are,” he said with an easy smile. “You are well today after the rigors of the ball last night?”

Sophie nodded. “Yes, I am well, thank you. And you?”

“In excellent spirits.” He came toward her as if intent on embracing her.

“That’s good to hear.” She stood, wondering how soon Jonathan would return.

At that moment the door opened and Jonathan entered the room, stopping Albert in his tracks.

“Look who’s come to call,” Sophie exclaimed.

Jonathan came across the room to stand next to her.

“Are you ill, Cousin?” Albert asked him. “You’re shockingly pale.”

“You’re mistaken, Cousin,” Jonathan replied in a level voice. “I’m quite well, I assure you.”

“I’m delighted to hear it.” Albert tipped his head. “We heard of the dastardly attack on you the other night. I was relieved to hear that you escaped relatively unscathed.”

Jonathan bowed. “I thank you.”

Turning, Albert walked slowly over to the window and peered out. “This weather is wretchedly confining. How long is it going to last, I wonder? There is nothing I should enjoy more at this moment than a bracing walk through the square.” He turned back and smiled broadly at Sophie. “Would you care to join me?”

Jonathan spoke up quickly. “She has been out in the cold already today. For her health’s sake it is not advisable that she go out again.”

Frowning now, Albert looked Jonathan steadily in the eye. “I’d have thought she could speak for herself.”

Sophie fluttered a hand. “I’ve no desire to go out into the storm again, Albert. But I thank you for your kind invitation.”

“May we offer you something hot to drink?” Jonathan offered.

“Oh, yes, forgive me,” Sophie said. “May we offer you something hot to drink?”

Albert bowed. “Thank you, no. I must finish my round of calls. The Jordans are expecting me for tea.”

He walked over to Sophie and raised her hand to his lips. After being stuffed into his coat by a solicitous footman, he tapped a finger jauntily to his hat and, with a smile, departed.

“Damn his unmitigated gall!” Jonathan said with a venom that startled Sophie. “I’d wager everything I possess that, when the truth is revealed, he’ll prove to be at the bottom of my ‘accidents.’”

Sophie caught his hand and pressed it against her cheek. “Don’t say so! If these mishaps are linked together and there’s one person behind them, I’ll never be able to let you out of my sight without being in terror for your life.”

Jonathan slid an arm around her shoulders and drew her against his side. She waited, breathless, expecting him to kiss her, but he only held her for a short time then gave her a squeeze and released her. He sat back on the edge of a large desk.

“Do you understand what I’m saying to you, Sophie? I’m convinced that Albert is determined to kill me.”

“Do you have any proof?”

He shook his head. “No, that’s the problem at this time.”

“I don’t see how he can be such a villain,” she said. “When we’re talking together, he seems so open and sincere. I think we’ve misjudged him.”

“Indeed?” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“Yes. And I’ve thought . . . that is . . . perhaps . . . if worse comes to worst . . . if you go away to America . . . well . . . he’s my cousin, after all. We both love crags and storm clouds and . . .” Unable to finish, she turned away.

They were both silent, musing.

Turning back, Sophie asked him, “What did you learn from Aunt Ruth?”

“Damned little,” he admitted, running a hand across his brow. “I’m still not sure how to take her nonsensical stories. She’s either the wiliest woman in the British Isles or the silliest. I was tempted to call her a bald-faced liar, but I was able to control myself in time.”

“Do you think my mother’s name was Ophelia?”

“Of course not.”

Sophie burst into tears.

Jonathan drew her into his arms. “What is it, love?”

“I can’t bear it! All these problems . . .”

He held her tighter and began to stroke her hair. “I think that the time has come to take the advice of a certain Roman general.”

“What is that?” she asked, raising a tearstained face.

“It was his conviction that a commander who continually fights a defensive war—no matter how strong—will eventually be defeated. I suspect that he was right, and I’ve decided that the time has come to counterattack.”

Sophie frowned. “How will you do that? Is it dangerous?”

He smiled. “Not for us. What are the names of those busybodies Aunt Ruth is always warning you against? Mrs. Harris is one, I remember, and there’s another.”

“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 merely 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.”