The Heart That Wins (Regency Spies Book 3) (11 page)

“Edmund will understand that we need some privacy,” said Mary.

Sophia had noticed that mathematics lessons were usually followed by study on Freddie’s part and sleep on Philippe’s and that enabled Edmund and Mary to have at least an hour alone without interruption.

“I’m sorry,” sniffled Sophia, “I didn’t mean to ruin your first day out of bed.”

“It is far from ruined, my dear.” Mary took Sophia’s hand. “You must know how dear you are to me and Edmund.”

Sophia nodded. Everything else in her life might be uncertain, but their friendship was unwavering.

“It has been painful for us to see how you have suffered recently. Had things been different we could have…”

“No,” said Sophia. “It is right and just that you should have been concentrating on Elizabeth. My problems are as nothing compared to that. “

“Yet I suspect it has made you think about what might have been.”

“Of course. But what might have been cannot be.”

“And you would settle for second best?”

Sophia wiped her tears away and looked at her friend.

“There is no second best,” she said. “It’s John or nothing.”

Sophia expected Mary’s reaction to be one of horror, but her friend surprised her.

“Can you live with nothing?”

Sophia glanced at the cradle in which Elizabeth lay sleeping. Was she really prepared to give up all hope of children of her own because she could not marry John?

“How could I have a child whose father is not John?” she said. “How could I bear to have another man touch me in that way?”

She shuddered at the thought. When she recovered herself she asked, “Could you?”

“No.” Mary shook her head. “As soon as I met Edmund I knew it was him or no one. I… I did not want children of my own, as you do. I was content to love Freddie and to have his love.” She smiled suddenly, “But nothing will compare to the joy of seeing Edmund’s face the first time he held Philippe.”

“I have wanted that all my life,” said Sophia. “The Warrens are a large family and I have seen the joy with which each one was welcomed into the world. I didn’t know then that it was John’s children I wanted, but now I do.”

“Despite everything you know about him?”

“Despite all of that.”

“And yet there is Franz,” said Mary.

“I have done nothing to encourage him.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“I turned him down.”

“Do you think that is an end to it?”

Sophia stared at her hands which were clasped in her lap.

“No. I think he will propose again.”

“So do I.”

“I don’t… I can’t…”

“Would you like Edmund to talk to him?”

“No. I can do it. But I thank you for the offer.”

Sophia continued to stare at her hands, then she frowned and looked up.

“Edmund doesn’t approve, does he?”

“Edmund approves of love matches,” said Mary quickly.

Sophia was not so easily fooled. Edmund had something else in mind.

John was not used to receiving visitors at all, let alone late at night. With his landlady’s help the room was made ready before the man was shown up, for, unlike Mrs Arbuthnot, he refused to be entertained in the street.

“Herr Schröder, we could have met in more salubrious surroundings.”

John bowed, but Franz did not.

“I would not have anyone know I have been to see you.”

John snorted.

“You fear that my reputation will rub off on you.”

“I fear only more gossip about Sophia.”

John had heard nothing; how could there be anything to say about her? Then he recalled that she had ridden across France alone dressed like a man. People had seen her riding through Paris covered in dirt and wearing breeches. There might have been other escapades of this nature in the past. He almost asked what was being said about her, but decided not to give the Prussian the satisfaction of knowing that he was curious. It had taken him a while to realise how much he had exposed Sophia to when he had abandoned his rôle as protector and turned to his other pursuits and his lack of foresight made him angry.

“You’re saying that gossip about you would harm her?” he asked.

Franz nodded. John had not noticed that their relationship was that close, and he had paid a great deal of attention when he saw them together. He had quickly understood what was going on with Captain Dennis and the gambler and Sophia’s feelings about these two men were clear to him. It seemed to him that she treated Franz in the same way she did every other man. It had not surprised him to see them together at the races; they lived in the same house and Edmund trusted the Prussian. Of course he would be Sophia’s escort, but that was not the same thing as a relationship between them.

“Then you’re here about her,” he guessed.

It took all his diplomatic skills to disguise his anger.

“Yes.”

“Go on.”

“I intend to marry her.”

John knew he was staring; but he could think of nothing to say or do. If the Prussian thought to marry her, he must surely have had some encouragement from Sophia, or he had imagined that he had. John did not know how he had missed it. Perhaps he really did not understand Sophia. Of course he did not understand Sophia. He had asked her to marry him at the most inappropriate time possible. She had been in love with another man. His heart stopped at the thought that she might actually be in love with the Prussian.

“I can see I have surprised you,” said Franz when John said nothing, “but she is a beautiful young woman with a very good reputation.”

“And what of love?” asked John, when he could finally control his mouth.

“I do not believe I wish to discuss my feelings with you.”

“Of course, but what of her feelings?”

John saw the hesitation with some relief. He had not been wrong; even the Prussian did not believe she loved him.

“She is fond of me, at least.”

“Fond! She was fond of her dog, but she wasn’t ever going to marry him.”

“You try to make me a figure of fun!”

“No, I’m trying to work out why you’re here.”

“I want you to tell Sophia to accept my proposal, of course.”

“What?”

None of this was making any sense. Surely Franz knew Sophia well enough to know that if Sophia had to be persuaded to marry him, she did not love him and, if she did not love him, she would not marry him. She had been fond of John when she had turned him down. Fondness was not enough, he thought ruefully, not for Sophia.

“You can’t marry her, or even be her friend anymore. I don’t understand why Edmund has allowed you to see her, but since he has, you can support my proposal.”

Despite his supreme efforts at self-control, John clenched his right hand into a fist. Recognising that he had wanted to punch Franz since the first time they had met, he forced his fingers to uncurl. This was not how he dealt with problems. He had never had to fight so hard to control himself as he did now. He tried to see this as a diplomatic mission. For the life of him, though, he could not work out which of them had the more powerful position, but he knew he could not support Franz in his objective. Nor could he work out what the other man would accept in its place.

Franz was right about one thing; Sophia had to marry. She had no brothers with whom she could live and she could not stay with Edmund and Mary forever. John doubted she would allow him to support her, although he could do so easily. They had never spoken of money. He had always assumed they would marry, so she would have no need of a private income. He had no idea how much money she had or how much she would have when her father died. John did not think she could be persuaded to take a position as a companion to his mother.

He tried to view the Prussian objectively as a suitor for Sophia.

“What do you have to offer her?” he asked calmly.

“Then you really mean to keep away from her?”

“You obviously know my reputation. Would a man who had any regard at all for Miss Arbuthnot wish her to be associated with that?”

“I don’t think anyone expects honourable behaviour from you.”

“I suppose not, yet it seems that I can be honourable where Miss Arbuthnot is concerned.”

The Prussian was taken aback, but recovered himself quickly.

“Which makes me believe that you still have some hope...”

“No,” interrupted John, “I have no hope at all.”

It was true. There was no hope for him, not with Sophia.

“Yet you came into the house.”

That had been a mistake and he had known it at the time.

“Sophia invited me and Edmund pressed me to stay.”

“You did not have to accept.”

Now John did smile.

“Then you don’t know Edmund.”

“I know Edmund very well.”

John was beginning to doubt even this. He settled on a reason that would satisfy no one who really knew Edmund.

“He feels a sense of duty to my mother.”

“Lady Caroline, yes...”

The pause was suggestive.

“Go on,” said John, not bothering to hide the threat in his voice.

“Do I need to?”

Franz’s expression was bland, but John read the tension in his body.

“Apologise.”

“No.”

“Then I must call you out.”

This did not seem to be what Franz was expecting, for he blinked.

“You challenge me to a duel. You? You are the least honourable man in Brussels.”

“You insulted my mother, what else did you expect?”

John was convinced that the Prussian had expected something else entirely, although he did not know what it was.

Franz straightened.

“Very well. If you would send your second to me, we will make the arrangements.”

“You know very well that no man will be my second, for I would tell no one the cause of the duel and they would think I fight to defend my own honour, which cannot be defended.”

John could not even imagine telling anyone that his opponent had suggested that his mother was the lover of her brother’s closest friend.

“Then we will fight without seconds.” Franz considered for a moment. “Tomorrow morning, then?”

John nodded.

“It is for you to choose the weapon,” prompted Franz.

“Swords.”

“May I suggest the woods to the south of the town? There is a clearing half a mile past the first fork in the road.”

“I know it. What about a referee, a doctor?”

Franz shook his head.

“Just the two of us, I think.”

“Agreed.”

Franz bowed.

“We will meet again at dawn.”

John barely slept. Despite going over the conversation many times in his head, he did not see how he could have acted differently. Franz had goaded him to fight, but had not expected the challenge to a duel. Had he thought John would fight him there in his room? Quite what he had thought he would gain from such a fight was not immediately clear. If his ultimate aim was to marry Sophia, the easiest way to remove John as a rival would be to tell Sophia exactly why John had his reputation. That would immediately rob her of any feelings of friendship she still had for him. Surely the Prussian had already done that. Hope, ever reluctant to die, fluttered momentarily to life as he thought that perhaps Sophia’s friendship had proved resistant to even this.

Clearly, she had given Franz the impression that some affection for her former friend still remained, or he would not have needed to come here to ask for his support. For a moment John allowed himself to wonder what Sophia’s feelings for him might be. She had not loved him when she had turned him down, but she had treated him warmly when he had escorted her to the Finches’ house, as if she would be happy to continue their friendship. There could be no hope of that now. She must know about the girls. Franz would have made sure of that. He considered allowing the Prussian to kill him tomorrow. As usual he assessed his death by whether or not it would help Sophia. His death at Franz’s hand would ensure she never married the Prussian, which had a great deal to recommend it. It was not just jealousy that made John conclude that Franz was not worthy of Sophia. The Prussian’s behaviour the previous evening had not been honourable. Sophia’s husband must be a man of good character. No one he knew was good enough for her.

There was little point in wondering about Franz’s motives; the only thing to think about was getting through the duel, preferably without killing Franz.

He had no way of knowing how good Franz might be with a sword, but the man had survived for some years as a spy. John assumed that meant that he was good at defending himself at least.

John had not fought a duel before, despite the many provocations. Perhaps Franz had considered himself safe insulting him. John had had no wish to defend his own honour, but this was different. His mother was above reproach and Edmund’s friendship with her had caused no comment in London, even after the death of his first wife. John had the advantage of knowing how much his mother loved his father. The simple reason why there had never been any gossip about his mother and Edmund was that there was nothing to gossip about. Edmund’s own reputation had barely been dented by the rumours about him and Louise Favelle that had suddenly started up. John had done his best to quash those rumours; it was inconceivable to him that the man had taken her as his mistress. He might have been besotted with her for a few weeks, but the idea of him taking such a woman as a mistress was ridiculous.