The Heart That Wins (Regency Spies Book 3) (4 page)

This evening she sat like a goddess, her red hair like a golden crown upon her head. Her creamy skin begged him to kiss it.

“John?”

John turned to Mary.

“I beg your pardon. I was miles away.”

“I’m sure you have a great deal on your mind now that Bonaparte is coming.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “There is a great deal to do.”

There was so much to do that he was beginning to doubt he would get it done before he had to leave.

“I was asking if you had seen the king.”

They spent a few minutes talking about Louis XVIII. Sophia told how she had attended the French court in exile for a few months. She told her story with wit and intelligence, but John was careful not to smile. In this he was aided by the knowledge that she had only met the Prussian today and they were using Christian names. She had called him, her childhood friend, Captain Warren, while this stranger was Franz.

John was still trying to work out the relationships in the household when they went in to dinner. Until this afternoon he would not have thought either of them capable of it, but he had begun to wonder if Sophia and Edmund might not be lovers. He could see no sign of it this evening; if anything, Sophia paid more attention to the Prussian than to Edmund. She spoke slowly and chose her words with care for his benefit. However much attention she paid to Franz, she paid far more to John. Gratifying though this was, it was also dangerous.

The Prussian was certainly paying a lot of attention to Sophia. John could not hold it against him; he could barely take his eyes off her himself. Not that he wanted to.

Their entry into the dining-room was as informal as the rest of the evening. Instead of leading with his wife, Edmund went with Franz while John continued his story about the taking of Toulouse to Mary and Sophia.

At table Sophia sat next to Franz. Denied the opportunity to serve her, John made the most of his chance to look at her. There were more candles in this room than in the sitting-room. He had never seen Sophia in a green gown before, but it suited her far more than the virginal white she had been wearing at the last dinner they had shared. That night she had barely glanced at him. Now she smiled at him and drew him into their conversation, despite Franz’s obvious displeasure.

This was how she had been before she had fallen in love with Edmund. Now he remembered how she had looked when she had smiled or laughed, the way a glance would tell him that they were  sharing a joke not understood by anyone else or that she needed rescuing from a particularly dull partner at a ball. They had shared so much. They had even, with their parents’ permission, written to one another when they were apart. Everyone, it seemed, had assumed they would marry, except Sophia.

“How did you come to be at the embassy?” asked Sophia. “I thought your regiment had gone back to England.”

“It seems I am a very good soldier,” said John, with some disgust. Since his childhood he had preferred to make peace with words rather than with violence. “My bravery and success were remarked on and for a very short time I had Wellington’s notice. Knowing that I looked for a diplomatic career, he found a place for me at the embassy.”

Where he had been forgotten.

“Wouldn’t you prefer to be fighting the French?” asked the Prussian.

“I’d be surprised if any man preferred fighting to making peace. Frankly, I’d rather be in Vienna.”

He was watching Sophia as he spoke. She looked at Mary then back to him.

“You should be in Vienna,” she said to him. “You have always wanted this.”

Sophia had always supported him. Her enthusiasm had made it easy for him to see her by his side in an embassy, discussing strategies and entertaining foreign dignitaries. Sometimes he had even imagined their children. He pushed those dangerous and unnecessary thoughts away.

“You’ll do well,” said Edmund. “The acting ambassador appreciates very much what you do.”

“You’ve discussed me with him!”

John was almost out of his chair before he reminded himself that this was the last place where he could lose his temper.

“Of course I did. Why do you think my agents report to you and not to him?”

John had always thought it was because the acting ambassador had not wanted to be bothered with the reports once the war was over.

“You suggested it?”

“You’re reliable and you understand what’s in those reports. You don’t have as good a grasp of the political situation as I’d hoped, though.”

Edmund smiled to soften the insult, but John felt it nonetheless. Edmund glanced at Sophia. With her at his side, John would have had no difficulty understanding the politics.

“That’s not fair!”

Sophia came to John’s defence. She blushed when they all turned to her and that really was not fair. John clenched a fist under the table so that his nails broke the skin of his palm, but even pain could not lessen his arousal.

He looked at Franz in time to see the Prussian shift uncomfortably in his chair. He, too, was affected by Sophia. It seemed that the only man in the room who was not was Edmund, who was now leaning close to his wife and seemed to have missed everything. John thought he had been doing well keeping a pleasant expression on his face, but now he gave up the struggle. He did not like Franz and there was no need to hide it.

When he turned back to her, he saw that Sophia’s eyes were fastened on his.

“Edmund’s comment was completely fair,” he said, before she could think that his ill-humour was for her, “but I thank you for your defence of one who cannot be defended.”

He bowed his head to show his gratitude.

“You exaggerate,” said Mary, shaking her head and frowning at her husband. “The views you expressed when you visited us showed that you understand well enough what is going on here.”

The polite smile on her lips faded and John wondered quite how fierce his expression was. He turned away from Sophia.

The ensuing silence was heavy. Sophia’s eyes fell to her lap and, from the movements of the muscles in her arms, John guessed that she was twisting a napkin in her hands. He was not sure what had been said to bring her close to tears, for this was one of the signs that something had upset her, so he spoke to draw attention away from her.

“How long have you been in Paris?” he asked the Prussian.

He did not care about the answer, only that the Prussian should not notice that Sophia was upset and try to comfort her.

“A little over a week.”

“And how do you find it?”

“Very pleasant and all the more so now that Sophia is here.”

Franz leant towards her as if expecting a similar compliment. Sophia merely raised her head and said, “Thank you. That’s very kind.”

She did not return his smile or his words. Instead she looked at Mary.

Mary stood, followed by the rest of them.

“I think it’s time for us to leave you,” she said. “There’s no need to hurry,” she said to her husband.

Mary had noticed Sophia’s distress as well. She would bear watching. John had written Mary Finch off as a fortune-hunter. She had been governess to Freddie, Edmund’s son from his first marriage, and had somehow managed to get Edmund to marry her rather than the beautiful Frenchwoman he had been pursuing, or Sophia, who had been pursuing him. A plain woman, Mary moved with a sensuous grace that almost made up for her lack of beauty. There had been unexpected signs of friendship between her and Sophia all evening; John would definitely be paying her more attention when the men joined them in the drawing-room.

John did not turn to watch Sophia leave, although he noticed that the Prussian gave in to the temptation. Franz took a step towards the door, but returned to his chair when Edmund cleared his throat noisily.

“We will join them shortly,” he said. “Mary knows that I don’t like to be deprived of her company for too long.”

Edmund was one of a very small number of men in John’s acquaintance who was equally comfortable in female company as in male. John had always assumed that, in his stupidity, he sought out company where lesser demands would be made on his intelligence. John, who had long ago acknowledged Sophia as his superior in intellect, had despised him for that. He really should begin his reassessment of Edmund Finch and his wife as soon as possible.

“I must congratulate you on your cook,” he said. “The meal was excellent.”

“I like to spoil Mary when I can and we had to celebrate Sophia’s safe return.”

Edmund glanced at the door and then at the clock. John managed to stop himself doing the same. Edmund really was impatient to go to his wife.

John leaned back in his chair and stretched out his legs. He was sorely tempted not to help the man, but Edmund had done him a favour earlier in the evening and he would assist him in obeying his wife’s subtle command.

“Sophia said she’s spent the last two years with you and Mrs… Mary.”

“Yes. We went into hiding shortly after you and I met in London.”

This put John his place. On that occasion John had taken him to task for not marrying Sophia.

“After you were shot, Mother said you were protecting Freddie from another kidnap attempt.”

“A lie, I’m afraid.” Edmund looked as if he really regretted lying to Lady Caroline. “Freddie had been taken by French agents in an attempt to coerce me to do something. The woman who called herself Louise Favelle was one of them.”

John opened his mouth then closed it as he thought about this. Edmund waited for him.

“She didn’t just leave London, did she?”

“I killed her.”

John had almost managed to forget that he had been dining with Perseus.

“I see.”

“She’d already tried to kill me, she threatened Mary and she had frightened Freddie. On top of that she was out to harm Britain. I could hardly let her live.”

Edmund glanced at the clock again.

“We have time,” said John.

Edmund inclined his head slightly.

“She was working for someone. I decided it was safer for us to hide than remain in plain sight.”

“And you decided to take Sophia with you.”

“She was already one of my agents. I sent her to Louis’s court at first and she did well there, but I needed to teach her, so, yes, I took her with us.”

“You should have refused her. She’s not suited to your kind of work.”

“She’s very able. You must know how determined she can be once she sets her mind to something.”

John did know. She had once set her mind to loving Edmund. He glanced at the clock himself. Only five minutes had passed since the women had left.

“Sophia is neither engaged nor attached to anyone?” asked the Prussian.

“As far as I know she’s not engaged. As to an attachment, you would have to ask her,” said Edmund.

John did not look at the Prussian; he did not need to. The other could obviously barely believe his luck in finding himself in the same house as such a beautiful woman.

“Yet she is quite old not to be married,” continued Franz.

“She has not had the opportunity to form an attachment these two years. We never stayed long anywhere.”

“I do not think it would take long to fall in love with Sophia.”

John kept his eyes fixed on the clock. How long would it take for Mary to calm Sophia or for Sophia to decide to go to bed? It was only eight minutes. In his father’s house the gentlemen could sit with the port for an hour, but he did not imagine the three of them would be here much longer.

“Perhaps it is time to rejoin the ladies,” suggested Edmund.

He took his time standing. John and Franz were already on their feet before he had even pushed back his chair. John did not dare meet Edmund’s eye as his host walked to the door and ushered them through it.

John was last into the drawing-room, but he saw that Sophia’s smile when they entered was for him. All threat of tears had passed.

He was more than a little surprised to discover that both women were drinking port. John turned down the offer of another glass.

“You dislike port, Captain Warren?”

Despite John’s requests to the contrary, Franz insisted on using his rank. It gave an unwanted formality to the evening that puzzled Sophia and annoyed Edmund.

“Only its effects.”

As he made himself comfortable in a chair from which he could easily see Sophia, he reflected on the last time he had dined under Edmund’s roof in London. That was the evening he had finally realised that Sophia loved Edmund. For some months he had been noticing her preference for the older man. That evening John had behaved badly and drunk too much. He could no longer remember much of the evening, although he still recalled the kindness of the couple who had taken him home in their carriage. Never a heavy drinker, it had been easy to keep to his resolution not to get drunk again.

“Will you rejoin your regiment?”

Mary’s question broke into the memories.

“I should think so. Too many officers have gone back to England and retired. Wellington will need as many experienced officers as he can get.”