Jo Ann Brown (19 page)

Chapter Eighteen

S
ophia was not surprised to find her sister and Vera in Papa’s book-room the afternoon of their return to Meriweather Hall. They were waiting for her.

Unlike Charles. He and the children had arrived at the house before the rest of them. They had not left yet for Charles’s home, but she guessed it was a matter of time. She wanted to see him, but what good would it do when he was furious with her?

It did not help that she was disappointed with herself. She should have let the children know the hillside was no place to play hide-and-seek. She had expected Charles to be upset, but not irate.

“We knew you would come here.” Catherine embraced her as gently as if Sophia were a fragile china figurine. “This is your sanctuary.” Releasing her sister, she tried to smile. “I never have understood why you hide with dusty old books or why Vera hides with dirt and seeds and bugs.”

Vera sat by the hearth. “We each have our way of seeking the quiet to hear the small voice of God within us when we don’t know where to turn.”

“Maybe,” Sophia said, “if we listened to His guidance before we find ourselves in a tough place, we would not need a haven.”

“That voice can be very soft when chaos erupts around us.” Vera’s eyes filled with tears. “Or when one’s heart’s desire is standing right in front of one.”

“You need not worry about that any longer as far as I am concerned.” Sophia sat heavily on a chair in front of the hearth. “It is quite clear I am no one’s heart’s desire.”

“Stop it!” Catherine’s sharp tone startled Sophia. “You cannot believe Lord Northbridge’s feelings for you have changed. If it had not been for you, he would have looked for his children much longer.”

Vera took the other chair and leaned forward, folding Sophia’s cold hands between her warmer ones. “You did not hear what your cousin had to say when he came out to instruct the footmen on where to take the various bags we packed in the boot.”

“No, I didn’t.” She had not seen Cousin Edmund when she had run into the house as soon as she could get out of the carriage. She had hoped to see the children or Charles. The staff had informed her that neither Lord Northbridge nor his children would receive her. Lord Northbridge’s rejection was as public as Lord Owensly’s and in front of people she cared deeply about.

“Your cousin told us,” Vera continued in the same calm voice, “that Lord Northbridge’s temper is a direct result of him trying to protect what is his. Whether it is his children or a piece of ground that the French were trying to conquer, he sees it as a personal attack. When the battle is won, or in this case when the children were found safe and sound, that anger refuses to go away.”

Sophia nodded. Her cousin had related that to her at Sir Nigel’s assembly. “But Cousin Edmund said Charles was doing better since he came to Meriweather Hall.” The words came out before she could halt them.

“As Mr. Fenwick would say,” Catherine whispered, “that is because of the healing peace of Sanctuary Bay.”

Sophia took one hand from Vera and clasped her sister’s. Dear Cat! Her struggle with her faith was painful, but it was clear that she wanted to believe as she had before.

“It is sad,” Sophia said, “that Charles’s healing did not last long.”

“Lord Northbridge vowed before God to protect his children,” Vera said, “and he believes he failed both God and his children. His fury is eating him up inside, and he could not stop it from striking outward, too.” Vera smiled sadly. “I doubt his feelings for you have changed.”

“Vera is right,” came a soft voice from the doorway.

Sophia jumped to her feet at the sight of her mother coming into the book-room. Since Papa’s death, her mother had remained in her rooms. Sophia had not guessed that the first place Lady Meriweather would venture forth to would be her husband’s beloved little library.

“Mother!”

Lady Meriweather kissed Vera and Catherine on their cheeks, then turned to Sophia. She held out her arms, and Sophia stepped into her mother’s embrace. “I thought I might find you here, Sophia. Vera, will you excuse us while I speak with my daughters?”

Vera nodded and closed the door after herself.

After her mother selected one chair, Sophia sat in the other. Catherine drew out the chair from behind Papa’s desk.

“I heard how you two found the children and what Lord Northbridge said to you,” Lady Meriweather said. “I am proud of both of you for making sure the children were safe, and I am sorry Lord Northbridge failed to see that. I suspect he is quite sorry now, but such a proud man will find it difficult to ask for forgiveness.”

Sophia nodded, not trusting her voice to speak.

“I had hoped that this time you found a man who would truly love you,” her mother continued. “Do not look shocked. You know that nothing stays secret long in Meriweather Hall, and the staff has been anxious if you will marry your cousin or the earl.”

“Neither of them wants me.” All her pain rushed out.

She thought her mother would offer her comfort, but Lady Meriweather asked, “Do you know why your father took you to London, Sophia?”

Her mother’s question astounded her. “Because he knew no one in this parish would marry me. He hoped I might find a husband there.”

Lady Meriweather’s smile became sad. “Oh, my dear Sophia! That is far from the truth. You could have almost any man you wanted. Many men approached your father after you turned seventeen and asked permission to court you.”

“What?” She was as shocked as she had been by Charles’s frigid dismissal. She glanced at her sister. “Maybe Catherine, but they were not interested in me.”

“No, Sophia. They asked permission to court
you
. Your father was a very wise man, and he said his permission was not what they needed, but yours.”

“None of them ever—”

“Think, Sophia,” her sister said. “You will remember many young men loitering near you at Sir Nigel’s annual ball and at other events throughout the year.”

“But not for me.”

“That is where you are mistaken.” Lady Meriweather gave her a gentle smile. “I did not realize, at first, that you thought you believed they were interested only in your sister. By the time I understood that, most of the young men were discouraged that you had nothing to say to them but commonplaces.”

Sophia struggled to comprehend what her mother and sister were saying. She did remember the young men who seemed to be around whenever she and Catherine attended a social function or a church one. She had been sure they wanted only to speak with her sister, but she could recall several times when she had ended a conversation after Catherine was invited to stand up with an admirer. She had thought she was doing the young men a favor by offering them an excuse to take their leave to spend time with a girl who was not half a head taller than many of them.

But now she realized that most of those young men who had been shorter than she was had, in recent years, surpassed her height. Even so, she had dismissed their attentions as nothing more than courtesy until they no longer stood nearby.

“I had no idea,” she said.

“I know.” Her mother’s smile softened. “When you look in a glass, you see the gawky, tall girl, not the lovely, graceful woman you have become.” She put her hand on Sophia’s on the chair’s arm. “I know you are curious how I saw what you did not. It is because I once was a gawky girl who fell in love with a man who towered over everyone and was awkward himself until we both grew out of it. Unfortunately you encountered that boorish cad, Lord Owensly, before you could come to accept yourself as you are now.”

It was almost too much for Sophia to take in, so she returned to her mother’s original question. “But if Papa did not take me to London so I could find a husband, then why did he insist on me going with him?”

“Because he feared for your safety here.”

That answer surprised her sister, too, because Catherine gasped out a protest as Sophia asked, “
My
safety? I have always been safe in Sanctuary Bay.”

“You were until you began asking questions about some people who would prefer you did not.”

An icy chill cut down Sophia’s spine as Catherine’s face turned gray. “You are talking about the smugglers.”

“Yes, and your father believed you were getting dangerously close to the truth about their leader. By the time you returned, that leader had been replaced, or so your father thought.”

“Papa knew who leads the smugglers?” She wondered how many more shocks she could endure.

“I believe so.” Her mother ran her fingers along her chair’s upholstered arm. “No, I am sure he did, even though he never said a word. Because he knew their leader, he also knew that man would not hesitate to do what he must to protect his business interests in Sanctuary Bay. Sophia, you must promise me that you will not start asking those questions again. I could not bear to lose you, too.”

Sophia did not hesitate, even though she guessed her mother was asking this of her now because Lady Meriweather assumed that Sophia would remain at Meriweather Hall for the rest of her life. As she saw the grim expression on her sister’s face, she said, “I promise.”

* * *

Herriott’s rooms were grand as was appropriate for the lord of Meriweather Hall. Tall windows rose to a ceiling decorated with plaster flowers and garlands. Fine art of even higher skill than the pieces on the ground floor hung on walls covered in red damask to match the draperies. Mahogany furniture was covered with ivory silk, and vases held freshly picked flowers.

Charles waited by the door for the footman to announce him to Herriott. He dreaded this conversation, but it must not be delayed any longer.

“Northbridge!” Herriott came through an inner door, his shirt hanging out of his breeches and his feet bare. “I did not expect to see you at this hour.”

“I trust I am not disturbing you so close to dinner.”

“No more than you ever have.” Herriott’s attempt at a smile failed, and his friend motioned for Charles to sit in a nearby chair. “My cousin thought it best if we each dined alone tonight, so trays will be delivered to our rooms.”

Charles felt like his friend had struck him. As always, Herriott was trying to be diplomatic, but Charles heard what his friend was taking care not to say. Sophia did not want to chance that Charles would come down for dinner after he had berated her.

“I am glad you are here,” Herriott said as Charles sat on a window seat. “I wanted to ask your opinion.”

“On what? Why I am incapable of controlling my temper?”

Sympathy lengthened Herriott’s face. “I thought you considered me too good a friend to say such things when you are in such a dismal state.”

“But you think them?”

“I want what is best for you and Bradby...and for me.” He closed his eyes for a long moment and sighed. “Pardon me. I am not expressing this well. I fear I have not had enough sleep in far too long.”

Guilt pinched at Charles. “We should have known not to put my room so close to anyone else’s.”

“It is not your nightmares that have kept me awake.”

His friend’s words pierced the wall Charles had raised to keep any of his emotions from slipping out. “Are you having nightmares, too?”

“No. Dreams.” Herriott sighed again. “I have been doing a lot of thinking since we stood by the beck in the midst of the Bridestones. I have realized some very important things that have left me heartsick, if you must know the truth, Northbridge.”

Charles stared down at his clasped hands. If Herriott was about to ask him to leave and never return to Meriweather Hall, Charles would comply.

“Heartsick about what?” he asked, because he saw his friend wanted to talk to someone who would listen without censure. That was the least he could do for the man who had saved his life more than once. A man who had stood by him when the terrors of the past erupted into nightmares.

“The mistake I made. Do you remember what we spoke about while searching for your children?”

How could he forget anything about that conversation? The topic had been Sophia. Rather than ask that, he said, “Yes.”

“Do not think me a horrible person when I say I was wrong to say what I did. I cannot allow myself to forget that many depend on me now that I am Lord Meriweather, and I must not shirk my obligations.” Herriott stared past him to the unlit hearth. “Do you understand what I mean?”

“I believe so.” That was a tepid evasion. He knew quite well what Herriott was talking about.

Sophia.

His friend continued to look at the hearth, his thoughts obviously focused beyond the room. It was clear Sophia was on his friend’s mind...and in his heart. Herriott had been willing to step aside in order to make his cousin happy, but, now that Charles had destroyed any chance to have her in his life, Herriott was determined to do his duty. And Sophia would accept her cousin’s proposal...to do her duty.

Charles ignored the pain squeezing his heart. He came to his feet and put his hand on Herriott’s shoulder. “You are my friend, so I will step aside.” He walked toward the door.

“Step aside?” Herriott blinked and stared at him as if he had been so lost in his thoughts that he had forgotten Charles was there. “Northbridge, wait!”

Charles did not slow. There was nothing more to say.

* * *

The message the footman brought to Sophia was simple. Lord Meriweather would like to speak with Miss Meriweather in his rooms before dinner was brought up.

Thanking the footman and asking him to inform her cousin that she would be there immediately, Sophia paused long enough to look into her glass. Her face had reddened from her time in the sun while she’d searched for Gemma and Michael. Maybe that was not a bad thing, because she would be spared from having her cousin see her flush if he read her a scold for being discovered in Charles’s arms among the Bridestones.

Only now was she realizing what a humiliating moment that must have been for her cousin. He had said nothing on the hill, and he had rented a carriage to take the women to Meriweather Hall so he could go by horseback and avoid talking to her.

Would he ask her to leave? Would he insist that Mother and Catherine go, as well? Her cousin must see her kissing his friend as a betrayal. If he did ask them to leave, she would find some place to take her family. Perhaps to Sir Nigel, who had asked kindly about her mother. The eccentric man made her uncomfortable, but he would not turn them from his door. Certainly Vera and her brother would welcome them, but the parsonage was tiny and cramped for the two Fenwicks. The situation would not be hopeless. Dire, yes, but she would trust that God had a plan for them.