Chapter 11

11

Itrusted you.

The words screamed through her mind though Sophia did not utter a word. She'd known the moment she walked back into Joshua's bedchamber that her world had changed. His grim expression and the dead tone of his voice were all the warning she needed. Or so she thought. He'd asked her to listen and she could scarcely believe all he'd said. Through it all, however, one truth rang like a death knell moving from church to church.

Joshua had lied to her.

The earl had lied to her.

Her brother-in-law had sent men to kill her over an inheritance she would have gladly given him.

Edward was dead, and the two men she'd believed in the most had suspected her of killing him.

"Sophia, please say something." Joshua reached for her hand resting on the counterpane. She snatched her hand back and cradled it to her chest as if burned. His pained expression at her rejection should have moved her. It did not. She wondered if anything might move her ever again.

"What would you have me say? You invaded my home, invaded my…life to discover my secrets by any means necessary so that the earl might discover if I murdered my husband. What am I to say to that, Joshua?" She clasped her hands together in her lap so tightly she shook.

"We never believed you to be a murderess, Sophia. Neither of us." He spread his hands in a pleading gesture. "Someone was threatening you. The earl…we wanted to find out why and who. I was here to protect you in case the worst happened, and it almost did."

"Well, thank goodness your plan was successful." She did not even try to keep the bitter bite from her words. "You knew I lived in fear of Edward finding me, and you knew all along he was dead. Neither of you thought to tell me because you thought I already knew, didn't you?"

"Dammit, Sophia, I knew the moment I met you, the moment I heard you play you could never take anyone's life. I should have told you the minute you told me the truth about leaving him. And Framlingwood has made it clear he has always known you did not kill the vicar."

"How? How has he always known? My father beat my mother to death. My husband whipped me to the point I could not move. Why wouldn't I become a murderer?"

"Because I love you, Sophia!" he shouted. "I love you, and I know your heart better than I know my own. That is how I know."

She stood so abruptly, the chair tilted and nearly fell over. "How can you say you love me when every word out of your mouth since you came into this house is a lie?" She stormed to the door and then back again. "Why, Joshua?" Her voice broke. "Why did you deceive me? You were the one man I thought would never betray me, and you have. For money."

"There will be no money, Sophia. I will take nothing from the earl. I've already told him so."

"Don't be ridiculous. You earned your wages. Take them."

He hung his head. "I cannot. Money makes people do desperate things, but the price of earning the earl's money was too high."

She strode to the bedside table and picked up the papers he'd handed her when he explained her inheritance. Right before he told her the brother-in-law who tried to have her killed was also dead. "Perhaps you believe I killed Edward's brother for this. Money makes people do desperate things."

"You had nothing to do with Martin Green's death, and you know it. We both know it. I told you what happened, exactly as it happened. I can summon Archer Colwyn to vouch for my account if you like." She could not breathe. In spite of the open window and the low fire in the hearth. Her skin burned hot against her clothes but inside she was cold, colder than she'd ever been in her life.

"That won't be necessary. And neither will this inheritance. I don't want anything to do with Edward Green or his family." She dropped the papers back on the table and struggled not to run but walk toward the door. She could not stay in the room with him and watch the sorrow and anguish on his face. If she did, she'd forgive him, and she was done with forgiving men for treating her like a helpless fool. She wasn't helpless. She and the other ladies had fended off men intent on her murder. They'd all survived things that would have killed most women and some men.

"It is necessary. This inheritance gives you a choice."

She stopped in her tracks. "What choice?"

"You need be no man's mistress, Sophia. No man's…wife. You're free."

She turned to look at him, taking in every sharp line of his face, every emotion that crossed his features.

"I understand your anger with me. I deserve every bit of your rage and more. But don't let your anger cloud your vision of what this money means for you. You can do anything you want now, my love. Anything. You'd need never depend on a man again."

"Is that what you want me to do?" She held her breath. What did she want him to say? What was she afraid he might say?

"I want you to do what will make you happy. I have wanted that from the first time you kissed me." He gave her a sad half smile.

Her heart sank, and she didn't know why. "I thought I finally knew what would make me happy. I don't any longer." Their eyes met and held for an eternity. She blinked back tears.

"I'm so sorry, Sophia. I was supposed to protect you."

"I know. The pity is…you couldn't protect me from yourself." She returned to his bedside and swept the papers from the table. "Mr. Carrington-Bowles says you should be well n a few days. I expect you to find other lodgings by the end of the week. Goodbye, Mr. Norcross."

She left the room uninterested in what he tried to say as she left. With the papers from the solicitor clutched to her chest, she walked past a maid at her work, past Short Rutherford who opened his mouth to speak and then backed away with a bow. Her expression was of no concern to her now. She was done with putting on the pleasant, happy expression of a well-kept woman. She was done with lies. And she was done with ever hoping her heart might come to life again.

Once in her chambers she settled into her window seat and rested her head against the cool glass. The garden was sleeping now. She tried to read the papers from the solicitor, but the words all ran together. The pages slipped from her fingers onto the floor, and the tears she'd been holding back slipped down her face in a steady flow as painful sobs wracked her body.

What a fool she'd been to ever think herself worthy of grand passion and quiet happiness.

Early November

Grosvenor Street – London

Sophia wondered if the others truly believed she could not hear them whispering, or if their intention was for her to hear every word. Lily, the former actress, was incapable of anything lower than a stage whisper. Which meant even Rutherford at his post out in the foyer likely heard her. She tried to return to her book, but as they were discussing her, Sophia thought it only polite to add to the conversation.

"I never leave the house," she said with a feigned ease. "The fact I have not gone out in the last few days, therefore, is insignificant." She did not look up from her book. There was no need. Lily, Margot, Saida, and Gabrielle rose from their seats and descended upon her like a flock of colorful silk-and-lace-clad birds. They settled onto ottomans and chaises around her and stared at her as if she were about to say something of vital importance.

"You haven't left the house in two weeks," Margot said. "Not since the day you stood in the street and watched Mr. Norcross's belongings being carted off to his new address."

"I did not stand in the street. Mrs. Collins would have apoplexy if I did something so foolish." She closed her book and studied the faces of her friends. "I merely stood in the door and made certain everything was loaded onto the cart correctly. Shall I have Short Rutherford build up the fire and bring some tea?" She got up and went to tug the bell pull. The cold bothered her more these days. It was November, true, but she'd discovered a bed without Joshua in it, a house without him in it, was as cold as a one-room hovel in Seven Dials, if not colder.

"So long as he brings some of those macarons," Gabrielle said from her place on the ottoman at Margot's feet.

"And the seed cakes Cook made yesterday," Saida added.

"Some of those blackberry tarts would not go amiss," Lily said as she leaned over to study the word Saida pointed out in her book.

Rutherford opened one of the doors and leaned into the room. "Yes, Mrs. Hawksworth?"

"Could you have Cook prepare a tea tray for us. Tell her to put every sweet in the pantry on it." Sophia smiled as a couple of the ladies stuck their tongues out at her. "And when you bring the tray could you build up the fire?"

"Still cold?" His question was sincere, but his tone was sympathetic and kind.

"Very much," she said so only he might hear. He nodded and went to do as she'd asked.

"Have you decided, Sophie, dear?" Lily asked.

"Decided?" Sophia returned to her seat and wrapped the large woolen shawl around her shoulders.

"About your inheritance? What will you do? Will you leave us for your country estate? Stay here as the earl's mistress? Go after that handsome music master before you pine away?"

"I am not…" Her voice caught. "I am not pining away. He lied to me. About everything. And contrary to what you might believe, a man who loves a woman would never lie to her."

They burst into gales of laughter. Now it was her turn to stick out her tongue.

"Says the woman who knows nothing of love and even less of men," Gabrielle said with a grin.

"I know enough about love." Sophia's bitterness had grown every day over the last two weeks. "I know I want nothing to do with it. Passion gives men an excuse to be cruel, and love gives them free reign to lie and betray a woman's trust."

"Did he offer an apology?" Saida asked. "For the lies and deception, did he offer an apology?"

"Of course he did," Lily said. "They always do." She rolled her eyes.

"Yes, but sometimes…they truly mean it. And sometimes that is all it takes for them to learn never to lie to you again." They all turned to stare at their Moroccan friend. Rutherford chose that moment to back into the room bearing a large, heavily laden tray. Mrs. Collins followed him with a sealed packet in hand. The underbutler settled the tray on the low table in their midst and then set about building up the fire.

"Lord Framlingwood sent this over by footman." She handed the packet to Sophia who took it and turned it over and over in her hand.

"What is it?" she asked as she looked up at the housekeeper.

"I would not presume to guess, Mrs. Hawksworth. Perhaps you should open it?"

Sophia continued to stare at the thick sealed missive. She wanted there to be some word of Joshua under that seal. She'd barely had a moment in the last two weeks when she did not ache for even the briefest word. The house was empty without him. She'd not touched her harp since she'd strolled into the music room after all of his belongings had been packed up and taken away. All save the two books his mother had given him. He'd left them on her seat at the Erard harp with a torn piece of lined music paper. For my beautiful muse. These belong with you.

"Oh, for pity's sake!" Lily snatched the packet from Sophia's hand and broke the seal.

"Lily, really." Margot tried to snatch the opened letter away only to spill out several documents onto the carpets. Gabrielle scooped up the papers. Margot handed the letter to Sophia.

My dear Sophia,

Coward that I am I allowed Norcross to take the brunt of your anger for lies, deceptions, and manipulations that were in no small part my own. There is no excuse I can give worthy of righting the wrong I have done you. My sole aim was, as it has always been, to keep you safe. I made a muddle of the methods, but I hope you will forgive me and in that forgiveness, find it in your heart to forgive Norcross as well. You two are more alike than you know. You have both borne wounds you never earned, you have both continued to cling to hope, something which I have yet to master. And you both have dreams so worthy of pursuit you have sometimes done things you regret to achieve them—you, your freedom and he, his opera house. He refuses to allow me to help him with his dream, but I can help you to achieve yours. Our contract is ended, but the house on Grosvenor Street and the contents are yours to live in or dispose of as you wish. A poor apology for my duplicity, but I hope you will accept it nonetheless.

Yours if ever you should have need of me,

D

She stared at the letter in disbelief. Margot handed her the other papers. One was the contract she had signed with the earl. The other was the deed to her Grosvenor Street house. She was well and truly free.

"He has given her the house," Margot said quietly. "And her congé."

They all sat in stunned silence. Mrs. Collins moved to the table and poured cups of tea which they handed around. Lily filched a macaron and bit into the confection with a loud crunch. They all laughed, save Mrs. Collins who looked up at the ceiling and sighed.

"Congratulations, Mrs. Hawksworth," the housekeeper said. "I am very happy for you, that is, if this makes you happy."

"I don't know what makes me happy, Mrs. Collins. I don't know if I ever will." She could not catch her breath. Sobs built up in her chest, but she refused to let them out.

"Of course you will, my dear. You think on it. I'm certain it will come to you." She drew a folded program from her pinafore pocket and handed it to Sophia. "Man your post, Rutherford. We don't want anymore unwanted visitors." She turned and walked toward the doors into the foyer. If I show the earl another bill to replace dented silver candlesticks and a broken fire poker we shall all be turned off without a character."

"What is it?" Saida asked as the other ladies crowded around her.

"A program from the Vauxhall benefit concert." Sophia's finger shook as she traced down the list of musical selections. An Appreciation of Beauty by Anonymous. "I wrote this piece," she told them. "He arranged for a famous harpist to play this at the concert. A piece I wrote. Because he thought it would make me happy."

"You must forgive him, Sophie. You must." Margot squeezed her hand. The others nodded in agreement.

"What if I can't?" Sophia swallowed hard and crumpled the program to her chest. "What then?" she asked, her words an agonized whisper.

"Then you must resign yourself to a life alone in two houses—one in London and one in Kent. Because no man will ever measure up to this." She tapped the crumpled program.

Every moment, every lie, every betrayal, and every secret desire flashed into Sophia's mind. She'd lived in fear so long she had no idea how not to be afraid, not to be ashamed. The problem with praying for things was when all of her prayers were answered what could she possibly dare to pray for next?

"That is not helpful, Margot," Lily said with a dramatic sigh.

"Who said I was trying to be fucking helpful? Well, Sophia? What is a lady to do when the world finally allows her to do anything she desires?"