Tananguard 02 - To Love a Lord (4 page)

It was early
in the evening, and he had no desire to truly do anything except walk. He felt…strange. His mind kept returning to Sophia. She haunted his thoughts. Yet that was not what plagued him. It was simply her…the way she moved, her smile, her delicate hands flowing over the pianoforte keys, and her voice. Her sweet, soft voice. He’d been playing The Game so long, he’d forgotten what it was like to really desire a woman, to see her past a competition. He wanted that with Sophia. He wanted to know her. He wanted to discover what her passions were, to discover who she truly was. She had enthralled his soul with music, and he felt her still pulling him. How could he feel this way toward a woman he barely knew? Perhaps it was simply remorse for his actions which had caused her such pain and embarrassment. He didn’t know. He simply knew he wanted to see her again.

He shook his head in frustration, glancing around to see where he had wandered.
He had stumbled upon a quiet neighborhood of quaint cottage-like homes. It was peaceful here, not crowded like so much of the city, and it was cleaner than most areas as well.

A woman’s sweet voice hummed softly
. He closed his eyes and listened. Peace filled him. For the first time since Sophia had left the Markham estates, Connor felt at ease. He knew it couldn’t last forever, but for a moment he felt as if it could. He was a lost soul amongst beauty, and that beauty was enveloping him in a warm embrace.

The humming stopped
and a woman’s voice sang aloud, “Then I take my shears, and I cut off her hairs,” followed by a sharp snipping sound. “Take that Rebecca Shterling!”

Connor
opened his eyes and frowned. “Well, the humming was lovely,” he grumbled to himself as he scanned the area for the singer. His eyebrows rose in surprise when he spotted her. He should have guessed from those lyrics, but how had he so randomly found her?

Sophia
Murrieta knelt in a flower garden behind a small bush with a large pair of shears in her hands. She was humming again, but it wasn’t as pleasant as Connor remembered, and she was snipping violently at the plants around her.

“Sophia Murrieta,” he voiced quietly.
He laughed softly to himself and walked to her purposefully.

She jumped in surprise, eyes furrowing at the sight of him. “You! What…how…d
id Sarah tell you where to find me?” she jumbled together.

“No.
No. I am actually quite surprised to find you here considering I’ve been wandering aimlessly for some time now with no destination in mind. And I am very pleased I wandered into you.” He smiled in awe, a smile for his random luck and the awe for her beauty. Her eyes glistened, and her cheeks were flushed. She had changed clothing since he’d seen her earlier, now wearing a simple, sturdy blue dress with an apron covering the front and dirty gardening gloves covering her hands. Even in such unremarkable attire, kneeling in the dirt with a smudge of it on her nose and another on her cheek, she was beautiful.

“What
…do you want, Mr. Ta-nan-guard?” Sophia asked guardedly, speaking his last name very slowly and pronounced. Her speech sounded…different, but Connor was too enthralled to really notice what it was.

He
stepped closer and crouched down next to her. “Sophia.” He cringed within. He’d used her first name. Three years here in London, and he was still too informal. He pushed his folly aside and continued as if he hadn’t made an error. “I have been tormented since this afternoon’s folly. I wanted to make certain you knew I truly meant you a compliment when I spoke of your hands. I have never seen such grace as you possess. Your hands almost dance as you use them. Beauty is what I saw, not scars. I did not see the scars at all until it was too late. If I had, I would never have said such a thing, especially in front of so many people.”

She nodded. “I…,” she cleared her throat and placed her gloved hands on her knees as if to steady herself, “undershtand, sir.” She paused again. “It was an honest mistake.” She was speaking slowly again as if thinking hard on the words to use.

He sighed. “You do not believe me.”

“Course I do,” she grumbled.

“No, you don’t,” he said in frustration.

“Does’t really matter?”

“It does to me,” he said quietly.

“Why?” she asked pointedly. “You…you barely know me. Am I not beneath you? Do you think those…women today…care…that you insulted me?” she drawled out.

His eyes furrowed as he studied her. He didn’t know her at all, but something was definitely peculiar
about her. She sounded…she sounded…slurred, he realized.

“
They do not, and neither should you.” She stood, swayed slightly, and began walking away from him.

“
Wait! I’m not like them. I care, and I am trying to make amends!” She kept walking, so he stood and strode after her. “Sophia…er…Miss Murrieta, please—”

She turned abruptly. “
Why?” she asked again. She placed her hands on her hips and glared up at him. “What makes you so much different than them?” she slurred.

He was barely able to stop before running into her. He stood looking down at her. “
I don’t insult people on purpose, commoner or not. And honestly, I don’t like the idea of you hating me. It doesn’t please me at all,” he said matter-of-factly. “So stop scowling at me and forgive me already. Not everyone is as brutal as Lady Cunningham.”

Her eyebrows rose in the air and she laughed. She actually laughed
…and laughed…and laughed some more. She stood on her tiptoes, placed her hands on his chest, and laughed in his face. That is when he smelled the alcohol on her breath and finally realized what was wrong with her.

“
You’re drunk,” he said in astonishment. The signs had been there, but he’d been too blind to see them. “Not that I blame you after—”

“I a
m not drunk,” she pouted. She pushed away from him. “I rarely drink wine or any kind of fernemon…fermnon…,” she paused, concentrating very hard and gave up, “alcoholic drink. Even the shmallest amounts can make me sick.” She nodded very seriously at him.

“
I see. Have you had anything to drink today?” he asked carefully.

“I…,”
she paused thinking. Her eyes suddenly widened and she inhaled sharply, covering her mouth with a dirty, gloved hand. She removed her hand, revealing a now dirty mouth, and exclaimed, “I think I’m drunk!” She giggled at her realization. Then her mood shifted, and she looked very upset. “Oh no! I am drunk!” And she burst into tears. “This is just terrible!” she sobbed.

Connor reached for her, but she shoved past him,
and sulked over to the small porch leading to the house. She sat down heavily on the bottom steps and wept into her gloves.

“I wasn’t thinking when I got home,” she explained through her tears. “I was so upset by Rebecca’
s words…,” she trailed off. She looked up at him from her step, face now slightly muddy from the gloves and tears, and hiccupped. “I only keep wine on hand for my brother. But I had some to drink today.”

Connor tried not to smile at how endearing she looked. The woman was a mess, but she appealed to his heart. He walked to the porch and sat down next to her and handed her a handkerchief. “You had a right to it. She was very cruel to you.”

“No excuse.” Sophia blew her nose into the handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. “But we used to be such close friends. It was she who had befriended the servant girl. We were seven.”

Connor gaped at her. “No,” he said in disbelief.

Sophia nodded. “My father had always been able to provide for his family. We could never afford a maid, but my mother never had to work either. Then the year I turned seven, Father was injured. My mother went to work for Lady Sterling, and so did I. One day, I was in the parlor dusting while Rebecca was practicing the pianoforte. She was getting very frustrated because she couldn’t perform a simple run correctly. Nobody was around, so I showed her what she was doing wrong.” Her speech was still slurred, but she told the story without hesitation.

“You didn’t,” Connor said in surprise.

Sophia smiled and nodded. “I did, and Lady Sterling caught me doing so,” she added with a giggle.

Connor shook his head. “Oh no.”

“I was very frightened. She grabbed both Rebecca and me by the arms and forced us over to a sofa. She ordered us to stay until she returned. We didn’t speak. We were too afraid. When Lady Sterling returned, she had my mother and a very stern look on her face.

“
My poor mother. She looked horrified when seeing me next to Rebecca on that sofa. Then Lady Sterling spoke. She said, ‘Where did she learn to play the pianoforte?’ She was pointing at me, of course,” Sophia added.

Connor nodded. “Of course.”

“My mother simply said, ‘I taught her.’ She said it quite proudly too. I remember that moment as if it were yesterday. Lady Sterling immediately demanded my mother prove her skill, so she did.” Sophia’s eyes glazed at the memory and she smiled longingly. “She was wonderfully skilled, my mother, far better than I.” She sighed and turned her attention back to Connor. “Needless to say, Lady Sterling hired my mother to teach Rebecca. There was one condition. My mother was not to tell a soul that she, a commoner, was instructing Lady Sterling’s daughter in the pianoforte. Word slipped out somehow, and soon my mother found herself traveling between five different homes teaching five different girls. I still worked for the Sterlings, but after my hands were…,” she trailed off, looking down at her hands. “I was nearly nine when it happened.”

Connor realized she was shifting stories.

“I was scrubbing floors in the kitchen when one of the kitchen hands dropped a pot of boiling water. She was moving it from the heat, and it slipped. I was far enough away that only my hands were burned, but it was terrible. My parents refused to have me work after. Not that I could do much with my hands for some time. The pianoforte is what saved them I think. My aunt—she’s somewhat of a healer and very skilled with herbs and such—she encouraged my mother to force me to play. It hurt—stretching the skin to play hurt. I hated my aunt for it, for the pain she was having my mother put me through.” She paused, her face contorting in grief. “I don’t talk about my hands. Don’t ask me about my hands.” She pushed away from him and tried to stand.

“
Of course not,” he rushed. “Continue your story of Rebecca and the pianoforte lessons. That’s what you were speaking of, remember?” He prayed she would stay and speak with him more. He wasn’t certain how much she would remember tomorrow, but she was telling him so much that he doubted she would tell him sober.

“Oh…yes…
I was.” Her mood shifted yet again, and she smiled. She retained her place next to him and continued her story. “Since the accident, I was allowed to accompany my mother to her lessons. Rebecca and I became close friends because of it as well as Sarah and I. We did much together and shared many secrets.”

She shrugged
as if to say that was all there was left to tell, and he realized she was leaning into him. He smiled and casually draped an arm around her shoulder.

She looked up at him and grinned devilishly. “Do you want to hear a secret?
”

“A secret? Is it a good one?
Is it about you?” Connor teased.

She giggled. “No. It’s about Rebecca. I know why she seduced poor Lord Cunningham.”

“Really?” Connor asked with interest this time.

S
ophia nodded. “Rebecca was in love with a sailor. They were to elope, but only after he made one last trip to sea. He would be gone for six months, but she was determined to wait for him. That is until she discovered she was with child.”

Connor shook his head
and groaned in disbelief. He disliked Rebecca Cunningham even more now.

“
I see the conclusion forming in your mind, but you would be wrong to assume it was her doing,” Sophia said.

“What do you mean?”

“Her mother found out. Rebecca did her best to hide her condition, but her mother was too clever. She forced Rebecca to make a decision. She was either to seduce a rich lord—and Cunningham was in London at the time—or she was to move out with nothing to her name. Samuel was at sea, so Rebecca did not have a choice. She would have been homeless. I told her she could live with us, but she was so afraid. Cunningham provided security that was guaranteed if she succeeded. The other option seemed hopeless.

“Samuel returned unexpectedly just after she was wed. I do not know what happened, but she
lost the baby a short while later. The entire affair was tragic. Now she is a misguided woman who belittles everyone around her because that is what her mother did to her.

“
Poor Rebecca,” she shook her head sadly. “She doesn’t mean to be cruel, but she has been hurt many times in her life. Her cruelty is what enables her to go on, I suppose. Today isn’t the first time she has insulted me in front of others. It was simply the worst one yet,” Sophia confessed and the tears began to fall again.

“Why do
you allow it?”