The Heart That Wins (Regency Spies Book 3) (7 page)

“It will be a wonderful ball,” said Franz.

“I’m sure it will.”

Absently Sophia threaded the lace that she was looking at through her fingers. She was trying to decide which of two sorts of lace would best suit her new bonnet. At least, she was pretending to do so. She did not really care, but it was a way of avoiding Franz’s real aim in this conversation.

“Which do you prefer?”

She held them both up for Franz to inspect.

“They are both lovely.”

“You are no help.”

He laughed. She liked the way he laughed. It was as if he was always waiting for an excuse to laugh, for he seemed to take nothing seriously.

“I want you to think about the ball.”

“The ball?”

Sophia took up the bonnet and placed both pieces of lace against it and examined them critically. She dressed carefully these days. A silly flirt such as she was pretending to be had to dress fashionably. There were some gowns and bonnets, however, that she had set aside for John’s arrival. Even Agnes had been shocked by the alterations that she had asked for. Sophia knew she had no idea what John liked when it came to fashion, except that he had liked her. She did know what Franz liked and a short discussion with Agnes had suggested that most men would agree with him. With the help of Mary’s maid she had learned more about the colours and shapes that suited her. Both pieces of lace had Agnes’s approval, but neither appealed to Sophia.

“Lady Mountjoy’s ball,” persisted Franz, breaking into her thoughts of John’s admiration when he saw her in one of her new gowns.

Biting down a sigh, Sophia put the lace into her work basket and laid her bonnet in her lap.

“Very well. You have my attention.”

She looked at him, to show that he was, indeed, the centre of her attention.

“The ball is on Wednesday evening. There will be supper.”

“Do you never tire of dancing?”

“Not with you.”

Sophia acknowledged her mistake to herself and looked for a way out.

“I like dancing, too. Will Captain Dennis be there?”

“Captain Dennis doesn’t dance well.”

“I didn’t say he did.”

She smiled at Franz as if remembering something private that had happened between her and the captain. Nothing had happened, but it would not hurt if Franz thought it had.

“I do not think Captain Dennis is as partial to you as you think.”

“Oh?”

Sophia did not think the captain was partial to her at all.

“I saw him talking to the pretty Cudmore-Aspinall girl.”

“Jane?”

“I think so. He seemed very taken with her.”

She would have to warn Captain Dennis. He and Jane were not being careful enough. If Franz noticed that they spent time together, so would her parents.

“I enjoy his company,” she said to Franz. This had the advantage of being the truth, even though it obscured an even greater truth; when John arrived she did not want him to think that there was anything between her and Franz. Even friendship between them might keep John away.

“Your appreciation of Captain Dennis’s company is obvious to all of Brussels. Have a care, Sophia.”

Impatiently Franz got up and went to the window, where he stood looking down onto the street below.

“Surely you can find nothing objectionable in him.”

“Only that you spend too much time with him.”

There had been carriage rides, but always in the company of Jane Cudmore-Aspinall. Franz had been with them when they had picnicked in the woods outside Brussels and Edmund, who had been bored by it, had accompanied them to the races.

“It’s not as if I’m ever alone with him,” she pointed out, “and his reputation is excellent.”

“You have expectation of some wealth.”

“I do not think I am at risk from fortune-hunters,” she said impatiently. One fifth of her father’s small fortune was not enough to attract anyone in need of wealth and no one knew about the investments Edmund had persuaded her father to make on her and her sisters’ behalf that had given her some measure of independence.

“He is a poor man...”

“Stop, Franz. Captain Dennis is not after the income that I shall have in the future. He is too honourable for that.”

“So he would have you believe.”

“You think I’m too stupid to recognise that a man wants my money more than he wants me?”

“No.”

Franz’s response was reluctant and Sophia knew this was not the end of the argument. It would be easy to confirm that Captain Dennis was interested in someone else, but that might compromise the captain and Jane.

“Then let that be an end to it and tell me whether or not he will be there.”

“I don’t know or care if Captain Dennis will be there,” said Franz. “You should ask him. I believe I see him coming to the house.”

He spat out this last, his accent so thickened by his anger that she could barely understand him.

Sophia tidied away her bonnet and work basket before the captain was announced.

“Good afternoon, Miss Arbuthnot, Mr Schröder. I was passing and thought I’d see if you were at home.”

Sophia smiled; he was a little earlier than expected. It would have been better if he had arrived after Mrs Cudmore-Aspinall and the two eldest girls, who had been invited so that Sophia could help them improve their embroidery skills.

“You are very welcome. Franz and I were talking about Lady Mountjoy’s ball.”

“Oh yes, we’re all looking forward to that. It should be...”

They all turned to the door which had been flung open.

“I do beg your pardon, Captain Dennis. I had no idea we had a visitor.”

Edmund bowed, as did the captain.

“What’s happened?”

Sophia’s voice was a whisper. It was too soon for the baby to be coming, so it must be bad news about John.

“Bonaparte is in Paris. The king has left and Bonaparte is the victor.”

“Was there any fighting?” asked Franz.

“No. The king just got into his carriage and drove away.”

This was unexpected. Sophia’s greatest fear had been that there would be fighting between the royalists and the republicans and that John would be caught up in it.

“And is there news...?” Sophia didn’t dare ask.

“Of our friend? No, not yet.”

He became thoughtful and Sophia wondered if he had made arrangements to keep in touch with John.

“I expect he was helping other people to leave,” she said, and wished she had not, for she grew cold at the thought of John being in danger. For once she was grateful for her pale complexion.

“Doubtless. We shall see him soon enough, I’m sure.”

“How long do you think we have,” asked Franz, “before Bonaparte gets here or the allies invade France?”

“A month, two. I don’t really know. There will be little information from Paris now.”

Edmund frowned at this. Information was everything.

“Surely now is the time to invade France,” said Captain Dennis, but they all knew it was not. The allied army was too small to move into France and its commander had not yet arrived.

“Perhaps,” said Edmund. “Please excuse me. I have letters to write.”

He bowed and left them.

“I suppose we’ll be fighting soon enough,” said Dennis, gloomily.

“You do not wish to fight?” asked Franz aggressively.

“Only a fool wishes to fight. I lost a brother at Corunna and two cousins were badly wounded at Vittoria. I would rather die in my bed of old age.”

“Would you?”

Sophia thought Franz was truly surprised by the answer.

“Yes,” said Dennis forcefully, “I really would. I should like to see my children and grandchildren grow up. War is a waste of life. But we have to defend ourselves and here I am.”

“And what of glory?” asked Franz.

“I don’t know,” said Dennis.

He would say no more. Seeing that this displeased Franz, he rose to go, Miss Cudmore-Aspinall forgotten.

“Shall I hope to see you at the ball, Miss Arbuthnot?”

“Yes, I’ll be there. I hope you will remember me when you’re thinking about dance partners.”

The young man smiled, making him look even younger.

“I hope you will do me the honour of dancing a quadrille or two with me.”

“Two? Captain Dennis, what a flirt you are.”

She curtsied to him and then she was alone with Franz.

“Why do you chase after him?”

“Is that how it looks to you?”

“That is what it is.”

“They must make spies differently in Prussia. Do you never look beyond what your eyes and ears tell you?”

“What other explanation must I seek?”

Sophia almost opened her mouth to tell him, but thought better of it. Discovering the extent of his jealousy was one thing, encouraging his hopes by demonstrating she knew they existed was another.

April1815

“I thought Paris was a place that knew how to enjoy itself, but Brussels will allow no rival,” said Franz, as he led Sophia into supper. Although the ball was large Sophia had not managed to find anyone more useful. None of the men she had danced with had confirmed her suspicions and she had not yet managed to be introduced to the man who had attracted her attention. She noticed with some satisfaction that Captain Dennis was accompanying Jane Cudmore-Aspinall into the room. Her mother looked unhappy, but Jane was smiling up at the captain.

“What will it be like here when the rest of the army arrives?” she wondered.

“You think it will become even more outrageous?”

“And more dangerous.”

“Whilst Edmund assures me that you can look after yourself, I assume you are not armed when you leave the house.”

“Of course I am,” she laughed. “Any one of the guests at this table might be a French spy.”

Sophia had no fear of being overheard; the noise in the supper room was deafening and she could barely hear Franz who was sitting next to her, practically shouting into her ear. She could, however, see the shock in his face and was not a little glad. If he knew that she was armed he was less likely to try to take advantage of her.

“You are truly an amazing woman.”

“I have been trained well.”

“Let us hope that you will not have to put that training to use tonight.”

“I put it to use every minute of every day.”

She was serious now, annoyed that he thought she was not as professional as he. She thought she was, in fact, the more professional of the two. Franz seemed to her to be reckless. She wondered how Edmund, who was meticulous in all he did, had come to esteem Franz so highly, when the latter was careless and haphazard.

“For instance,” she said, “when we arrived I went over everything I knew about the people I recognised and recalled that one of the men is rumoured to have large debts, even for someone who has fled debts in England. So I have danced and conversed with him. I made sure that I was introduced to as many of the men I didn’t know as possible. I had heard rumours about one of them, to the effect that he supported Bonaparte. He is open about his politics, but he might be supporting Bonaparte with money or intelligence or some other means. He mentioned the name of another man to whom I have not yet been introduced. This is not a game that I play when I feel like it, Franz. I came into this with a purpose and I have not strayed from it. I’ve worked very hard to get a reputation as a flirt. Men will say all kinds of things to a pretty woman who flatters them and I can talk to any man I choose about anything without his suspecting anything other than that I’m a foolish woman.”

“Let me serve you some of this... well, I’m not sure what it is, for the sauce obscures it.”

Franz put some of the food onto her plate and then served himself before reaching for another dish.

“I have been asked to play cards,” he said. “Whom should I seek out?”

“Mr Laing, if he’s playing.”

“Did Edmund tell you that gathering information is not my particular skill?”

“I assumed it must be a necessary skill for all spies.”

“I take people from one place to another and I’m a fairly good thief. I don’t object to assassination and I once tortured a man. I would do so again if it were necessary, but I don’t have the temperament for it. I’m good at stealing information, not so good at picking it up.” He grimaced, “This tastes as bad as it looks. I’m sorry I gave you any.”

“See if you can get the beef passed down. I hear it’s the cook’s speciality.”

“You must teach me how to have the patience to listen to gossip.”

Sophia bit her lip to hold back the retort that was on the tip of her tongue and smiled, although the smile disappeared when she saw the beef disappearing towards the other end of the table.

“Now you begin to see how useful it can be. But you must not believe all of it, or any of it. I once started a rumour simply to see how long it would take to get back to me and to find out whether two people who were said not to know one another had acquaintances in common.”

“Will you dance with me after supper?”

Sophia grimaced. Franz was particularly difficult to follow this evening.

“I thought you were playing cards.”

“We could dance first.”

“And what intelligence will I learn from you?”

They had just danced together. Sophia had no intention of dancing with him twice in one evening.

“That I like you very much.”

“I think it might be better if you did not. We must work together, remember?”

“You think it would make it difficult if I were to fall in love with you?”

Sophia kept the slight smile on her face with some effort and hoped it did not look too false.

“I think it would make things very difficult.”

“Because of Captain Warren?”

Sophia hesitated. It disturbed her that she had not managed to keep this hidden from him.

“John and I have been friends since we were children.”

“He is not worthy of your love or your esteem.”

Sophia became angry.

“I have known him all my life and I know the kind of man that he is.”

She did not care if Franz knew that she was angry.

“You know the kind of man he was.”

Sophia pushed her chair back.

“You’re telling me that John’s character is bad?”

“I was shocked that Mary allowed him into the house that night in Paris.”

Despite her wish to leave him, Sophia found that her legs were too weak to allow her to stand. She remembered how strained everything had been that evening. At the time she had put it down to tiredness on her part and anticipation of the journey to Brussels on the others’. Edmund and Mary would not believe any rumours about John without finding out some facts. Edmund was close to Lady Caroline, John’s mother, and he would not take the chance that she might hear the rumours without being able to rebut them with the truth. Were there facts to support whatever rumours there were?

“What do you believe he has done?” she asked flatly.

“No decent person will tell you.”

How could John have done something so terrible that it could not be spoken of? It was John who had visited her every day when he was in London and read to her when she had broken her arm falling from a tree she had climbed to prove to him that she was not afraid. He had given her a puppy when her mother had left home in an effort to console her. At balls he had always been available to dance with her when she was at a loss for a partner. He had written to her when he was away at school and university. She had thought she knew him, until the day he proposed.

“No,” she said, “whatever they say is not true.”

“Your loyalty does you credit, but your lack of sense does not.”

Sophia turned away, certain that however much John might have changed, he was still the boy who had tried to protect her from all the ills of the world. Her only mistake in understanding his character was in not recognising the nature of his love until it was too late.

John had been in Brussels for a week and had managed to avoid Sophia. He had recovered his horse from Edmund, waiting until he had seen Sophia leave the house with Franz to do so. They had made a striking couple. John was not surprised to find that he was jealous; it was jealousy of Edmund that had driven him to the ill-considered proposal that had resulted in Sophia’s rejection of him. He had wondered about what had been going on in that household since he had realised that Franz was going to live here with them. All the way from Paris he had considered the possible relationships. Having convinced himself that Sophia and Edmund were lovers, he had then examined the possibility that she entertained Franz or both men. These thoughts exhausted him and it was only when he was sitting with Edmund and his wife that he realised how foolish he had been. The Finches were clearly devoted to one another. When they spoke of Sophia, Edmund reiterated his responsibility for her. Sophia’s father had put her into his care and he felt it keenly. John was not sure how it was conveyed, but he came away with the impression that Edmund was also protecting Sophia from Franz. Watching them together, John had been able to read the Prussian’s intentions towards Sophia by the way he walked beside her. Trying to tell himself that he had no right to be jealous if Sophia chose Franz, he had nonetheless been pleased when she had changed her step to put more distance between them.

He had watched as they walked towards the park together, Sophia’s hand neatly tucked into Franz’s elbow. They were laughing and smiling at one another as if they had no care in the world. Even in the week since his arrival he had heard about Miss Arbuthnot the flirt. At first he had been taken aback, then he had realised that Sophia had chosen her method of getting close to men with information. Her name was linked most often with that of Franz, but there was also a young army captain and a man known for his gambling debts. Neither of these gave him cause for concern, only the Prussian.

It was his own fault that he was in this position. No one had forced him to do what he had done. When he had hidden in the shadows to catch a glimpse of Sophia as she left Paris, he had decided that seeing her without being able to talk to her was too painful, but his will had proved weak since he had arrived in Brussels. He was constantly finding himself in places from which he could see her without being seen, which meant he saw her frequently in the company of the Prussian spy. He doubted calling Franz out would improve his reputation and Sophia would be better off with the Prussian, if she loved him. John thought it probable that she did not and would not. He had seen her in love and she had made her preference for Edmund clear from the start. For more than a year she had sought out his company and hung on his every word. On the whole he thought she was not in love with Franz.

After a week it had been impossible not to join in with the social life that Brussels offered. Although there were many other ways he would have preferred to spend his evenings, John knew that a diplomat’s job was to meet and influence people, so he had accepted the invitation to Lady Dornow’s ball. He had arrived early, standing in the street so that he could watch the other guests arrive. Satisfied that Sophia was not among them, he had finally entered the house.

The ballroom was already hot and stuffy when he arrived. He made no effort to find a partner, but stood watching a quadrille. As the dance and the music ended he became aware of raised voices nearby.

“There is no need for you to leave.”

“There is every need if you’re staying.”

Sophia! John turned and went back to the entrance hall. There he saw Sophia trying to get away from an older woman who was holding on to her arm.

“Miss Arbuthnot, may I be of assistance?”

He spoke without thinking. Protecting her was as natural as breathing.

Sophia turned towards him and he was gratified by the relief he saw on her face.

“John... Captain Warren. Would you escort me home? My mother wishes to detain me.”

Her mother! John gave his attention to the other woman. His memories of Mrs Arbuthnot were vague; he could not even remember whether he had liked her or not. Whatever his feelings for her had been, they were blurred by his hatred at what she had done to Sophia.

“Of course. Mrs Arbuthnot, I doubt if you remember me, but my name is John Warren.”

Mrs Arbuthnot laughed.

“Captain Warren? Sophia, you are a fool if you look for safety with the man who has the worst reputation in Brussels.”

Damn! In his haste to help her he had forgotten what he had done and why he must avoid Sophia. It could not be helped. Edmund could repair the damage to Sophia’s reputation. Greater damage to Sophia herself would be done if he left her here with her mother.

“John has always been my protector, even before you deserted us.”

“Sophia, is something wrong?”

The tall Prussian stood beside him, ignoring John as if he were not there.

“It’s alright, Franz. John is going to take me home.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I don’t care what you think. I’m going to leave with John.”

“Do you have a shawl, shoes?” John asked her.

“No, we came in a carriage, but I can walk in these and the evening is not cold.”

He hesitated; he had thought she could at least wait for the carriage. He had himself disdained the use of a carriage and come on horseback.

“Then let us go.”

He took a step closer.

“You will not tarnish my daughter’s reputation,” hissed Mrs Arbuthnot.

“I’m going to walk her to the Finches’ house. It will take five minutes.”

“You gave up the right to have any say about my friends and acquaintances when you left me,” said Sophia, shaking her mother’s hand off her arm.

“I agree with your mother,” said Franz quietly.

“And you have never had that right.”

John recognised the bright pink spots on her cheeks that meant she was angry. She had not been angry with her mother, afraid, perhaps, but not angry. It was Franz who had really upset her.