Miss Sophie's Secret (2 page)

“Go ask Edmund to get it for you,” Lady Biskup ordered her niece.

“Excuse me,” Sophie said to her aunt and to Jonathan before she disappeared through the doorway.

Lady Biskup reached an imploring hand toward Jonathan. “My dearest boy,” she pleaded, “you have had some experience of the world—you must take the girl in hand. She is the dearest, kindest little thing on earth, but she has all these bizarre notions which Reginald never attempted to correct. What shall we do with her in society? I cannot impress upon her the importance of practicing the niceties.”

Jonathan seated himself opposite his aunt and, bending forward, took her hand in his, pressing it comfortably. “I am confident she will see the advantage of conducting herself properly. You have no need to fear; Sophie has always been intelligent.”

“Let us hope so,” Lady Biskup said with a sigh. “I have brought her to London at this odd time of year in order to help her acquire some town bronze. During the season next spring we must find her a suitable husband, now that her guardian is gone. With that fertile brain of hers she’ll waste no time creating problems for herself, unless she has a new life to build—something to occupy her mind.”

Jonathan nodded. “You’ll have no problem in that regard—she’s truly beautiful.”

“Yes, she is a pretty thing,” Lady Biskup agreed. “Though we must not let her know that we think so. It would never do for her to become set-up about herself. Because of the closeness of your relationship, my dear, you must take her under your wing—as an older brother would.”

Jonathan frowned. “Just how closely related are we?” he asked. “What precisely is our relationship, Sophie’s and mine?”

Lady Biskup considered him thoughtfully for a moment, and then her face took on a sly expression. “Well, now . . . I am not at liberty to discuss that, at this time. Suffice it to say that the relationship may be very close.”

“
May
, you say?”

“Yes.”

“But there is no need for you to be secretive with me, Aunt,” he protested. “You and I must share these burdens and I must know—”

“Ah,” Lady Biskup interrupted him. “Here is Leeds with our tea.”

Jonathan turned to find the butler shuffling into the room with a young footman at his heels bearing a heavily laden tea tray. He smiled. “This is most welcome as I find that I am ravenous.”

“And where is Sophie?” Lady Biskup asked, turning to peer crossly at the sofas and chairs, as though expecting to find her niece crouching behind one of them. “Please, Leeds, will you find Miss Sophie and inform her that our tea is ready?”

As the footman settled the tray onto a serving table, the sound of Sophie’s rapid footsteps could be heard in the vestibule, and she entered the room carrying her handkerchief and reticule.

“Here you are, my love,” Lady Biskup said. “Please come pour out for us. The journey has left me bereft of even the strength to lift a teapot.”

“Yes, Aunt,” Sophie said, seating herself alongside the tray and lifting a cup and saucer in her hand.

While Sophie poured some essence into the teacup then diluted it with hot water from a silver spigot, Jonathan watched her. She had changed very little, he decided. Though she would be eighteen in February, she still had the wide-eyed vulnerable look of a child with the soft mouth and overlarge brown eyes that had always caused his protective instincts to surge to the fore. She was especially beautiful at the moment, he thought, her cheeks flushed with fatigue and her thick dark hair lying in piles on her shoulders, curling lusciously at the nape of her neck and behind her ears. When she turned to hand him a cup of tea, he met her gaze and gave her his warmest smile.

“I’ve thought about you so often these last few years, Sophie,” he told her. “I kept remembering the way you always ran to me and put your hand into mine whenever you were in trouble.”

“That was because you were able to solve every problem for me,” she said.

He sobered. “Not
every
problem, surely.”

She nodded. “Yes, every one, as far as I can remember.”

He turned to stare out a nearby window. The sky had darkened to black, and from time to time, the wind lashed the naked branches of a shrub against it. It was a wild scene that reminded him of the many winter evenings he had spent in the cold, windswept north country of Vaile Priory.

I’m home again
, he thought to himself, turning gratefully toward the crackling blaze on the hearth.
I’m truly home
.

An ormolu clock on the mantelpiece began to strike, marking the hour in a tiny silvery voice. “It is four o’clock” Sophie announced. “At Vaile Priory, if Lord Reginald were still alive, I would be reading the end of a chapter to him and closing the volume.” Remembering, she wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.

“Come, come,” Jonathan said, the light from the fire glowing in his eyes. “You must stop thinking about the past, if it makes you unhappy. You must concentrate on the future—on cheerful things. Lord Reginald would have wished it. Think of the delightful times you’re going to have in town.”

“Yes,” she agreed, straightening her shoulders. “It is going to be wonderful. I shall see Jeanette again. I hope to call on her tomorrow and let her know I am here. She has written so many delightful letters to me since her visit at the Priory—not recently, I am sorry to say—but I am confident that we shall be the greatest of bosom bows again while I am in town. Do you remember her, Jonathan? Such a beautiful girl!”

“I do indeed,” he said. “But she was no horsewoman. Do you remember the time old Rafferty ran away with her?”

Sophie sniffed. “Jeanette was never in any danger while you were nearby. You rescued her long before Rafferty was anywhere near the cliff.”

“He wouldn’t have gone over the cliff,” Jonathan said, one side of his mouth tugging up in amusement. “He was much too sensible. And he’d have stopped running much sooner if Jeanette had not screamed and carried on so hysterically.”

“But she gave you all the credit for saving her,” Sophie said, smiling. “Jeanette fell hopelessly in love with you that day.”

Jonathan laughed, a sound that was rusty from disuse. “Nonsense.”

“Indeed, it is true. She could speak of no one else from that moment on. And every time she mentioned your name, her eyes sparkled in a very special way.”

“I’m sure no one has ever fallen in love with me—unless you did so, Sophie, when you were very small.”

He watched her expectantly, but she was cutting another slice of cake for him and replenishing his tea. And as she passed the lemon slices again, it was apparent that her thoughts were far away.

Lady Biskup brushed some crumbs from her skirt. “I shall be curious to see how her brother, Nicholas, has turned out. I have often worried about him, poor child—the way he pretended to know everything. And he had such an unfortunate way of lecturing everyone.”

“But, Aunt Ruth,” Sophie said, “I discovered that he was remarkably well informed and quite accomplished. Johnnie Aysgarth told me not long ago that Nicky is the finest shot in England. I believe it, too, for when he taught me to shoot, he hit the target every time he aimed at it.”

“What!” Lady Biskup cried, starting so violently that she sloshed tea into her lap. “You did not actually fire a gun!”

“Yes,” Sophie admitted, her cheeks flushing pinker. “It was dreadfully loud, but so exciting. And I hit the target the first time I fired. After that, unfortunately, I was unable to do so again. I missed three times in a row. Nicky said it was because of overconfidence.”

Lady Biskup set her teacup on a side table and dabbed at her gown with a napkin. “Well, indeed, child, I never know what shocking revelation you will impart to me next. Shooting a firearm! I have never been so horrified! That is certainly the most unladylike activity in which one can participate. And if I had realized that Nicholas was encouraging you in such pursuits, I should have given his mother the most thorough tongue lashing of her entire life—silly creature that she is with all her airs and pretensions.”

Jonathan was smiling. “Where are your dogs, Sophie? You are not bringing thirty or forty to London to keep you company?”

She shook her head unhappily. “I am confident I shall miss them dreadfully, but Aunt Ruth explained how uncomfortable the poor creatures would be in town. Dogs require exercise to remain healthy—fields to race over and walls to jump. Their condition would suffer here, as I would not be able to take them for a romp in the square.”

“Good God, no!” he agreed.

She sighed. “It is going to be difficult enough to keep my horses healthy, I fear. I understand that a good fast gallop through the park is not permitted, either.”

“That is correct,” he said. “You must be thoroughly circumspect while you’re in town. That will be difficult for you, poor Sophie. You’ll have to derive all your excitement from the simple pleasures of the ton—balls and routs and the theater and such.” He chuckled. “Simply put, you’ll be obliged to shift your interest from animals to people.”

She set her teacup and saucer on the table and, tilting her head, glanced at him shyly. “Perhaps that will not be so difficult. Do you remember Albert de Lisle?”

His smile faded.

Sophie straightened up, peering at him curiously. “Don’t you like him, Jonathan? I had thought that you and I would always agree on everything.”

He sat in silence for several seconds. Finally he said, “All I remember of him is that he was quite the scalawag. But I’ve been out of the country for five years. A great deal can change in that time.”

“The summer after Lord Reginald bought you your colors and you went away to war, Albert and his father spent some weeks at Vaile Priory.” Looking down, Sophie concentrated on her napkin, pleating and unpleating it with her fingers. “It was then that Albert and I swore to be true to each other forever.” She glanced up at Jonathan now. “And I have been.”

“For
four
years?” he said, his eyebrows rising.

She nodded.

“And what of Albert?” he asked, frowning. “Has he been true forever, also?”

She turned away. “I am a bit uncertain . . .”

Lady Biskup set her cup into her saucer with an impatient click. “We have heard nothing from him in that time. I have told Sophie that the boy is unworthy of her. He has coaxed her into pledging herself and has given her nothing in return.”

Jonathan tipped his head consideringly. “But certainly he has written to you, Aunt.”

Lady Biskup shook her head.

Sophie turned back to Jonathan, her expression pleading. “There may have been something which prevented him, despite his desire to do so.”

Jonathan and Lady Biskup exchanged sour glances.

“It is common knowledge that Albert must marry an heiress,” Lady Biskup reminded them. “After the reckless way in which his father has conducted his affairs, that rocky island and drafty old castle off the coast of Carlisle are all that is left of the family fortune.”

Sophie’s chin quivered and it was apparent that she was fighting tears. “But certainly . . . since he pledged himself to me . . . that is . . . would he not have sent word if he had suffered a change of heart?” She turned anxiously from one to the other. “What do you think, Jonathan?”

He cast a helpless glance in Lady Biskup’s direction, but her ladyship kept her eyes cast discreetly down. “I know nothing of the matter, Sophie,” he told her. “And I don’t wish to hold forth on a subject on which I am ignorant. Let’s turn our thoughts in another direction. What entertainments are we planning for the next few weeks? There’ll be enough balls and parties to keep us occupied now that the little season is in full sway. And you say you’re planning to call on Jeanette tomorrow? May I accompany you?”

“Certainly! That would be delightful.”

“Yes, indeed,” Lady Biskup agreed. “She’ll be happy to see you. And you’ll both be pleased to discover that Jeanette has lived up to her early promise and is now reputed to be quite the most beautiful girl in England. She was the Incomparable during the regular season . . . took very well. There have been rumors that she and the earl of Fairmont will make a match of it, though I’ve heard that she is reluctant to commit herself quite yet.”

“She is showing good sense,” Sophie said, rising and moving across the room to stretch her stiffened limbs. “Why should she give up the balls and parties only to lock herself away in a musty old country house and immediately become a mother?”

“Sophie!” Lady Biskup protested. “That is no way for a young lady to speak in front of a young gentleman. I must be very cross with you. It is quite unacceptable. Fortunately, you have only committed this faux pas in front of Jonathan instead of embarrassing yourself in the presence of some young man who might be a candidate for your hand.” She forced a good-natured chuckle. “Come, come, my love. Practice polite conversation with our dear boy. He will be patient with you until you’ve acquired some town bronze.”

Sophie peered at him curiously. He was staring down at the toe of his left boot, a frown creasing his forehead. She walked over and sat down beside him, taking one of his hands between both of hers and stroking it thoughtfully.

“It is comforting to know that you’ll always be patient with me,” she told him. “You and Aunt Ruth are the only family I have.” She turned to Lady Biskup. “How are Jonathan and I related, Auntie? I have never been quite clear in my mind.”

Lady Biskup waved an impatient hand. “Oh, must we go into that at this time?”

Jonathan looked up. “I wish you would,” he said. “I know family connections are of paramount importance, but having spent so much of my youth in India and then going to war not too long after Lord Reginald brought me to England . . . frankly, I’ve lost track of the who’s and the how’s.” He leveled his gaze at Lady Biskup. “Now I too would like to have our relationship clarified.”

Lady Biskup sat silently frowning down at her lap. Suddenly Sophie rose to her feet and began to pace back and forth across the room.

“Please understand that I have no desire to be impertinent. Indeed, everyone must know how deeply devoted I am to you, Aunt Ruth, but . . .” She bent down and kissed her lightly on the cheek, then turned to Jonathan.