The Heart That Wins (Regency Spies Book 3) (21 page)

“Then you shall have your wish,” she whispered and took him to the bed.

He pulled back the covers, then took her into his arms and kissed her. There was nothing hesitant or uncertain about it. He kissed her as if he owned her and Sophia surrendered herself to him. He was no longer half asleep and she was very aware of his naked body pressed against her.

“Will you still come to bed with me?” he asked when he was done.

Sophia was shaking and barely able to stand.

“Yes,” she said.

“You should not.”

She silenced his objections with another kiss, more desperate than the last.

He knelt before her and removed her slippers, holding her legs and ankle as if they were the most fragile things he had ever touched.

John kissed her again, then started to remove her gown, kissing her skin as it was revealed. It was quite the most wonderful experience she had ever had. His lips were soft and gentle. It took longer for him to undress her than it had for her to undress him and he muttered under his breath as his tired fingers fumbled with her laces and pins. Then she, too, was naked, but he barely glanced at her before he pulled her against him and kissed her. Nothing had prepared her for this intimacy. John wrapped his arms around her more tightly. She was glad for the support when he finally released her mouth.

His lips returned to her body and she wound her fingers in his hair.

“I can stop,” he whispered, but Sophia was not sure he could. She certainly did not want him to stop.

“Don’t.”

Sophia took his mouth and his hands touched her where his lips had been. All Sophia could think was that this should never end. Hoping that she could please him in turn, she gave her hands free reign to explore his body. A groan told her when she reached the right place and she focused her attention there.

John lifted her and placed her in the bed.

Belatedly she remembered, “Your arm.”

“Don’t worry.”

His voice was breathless and raw. Sophia opened her eyes and looked up into his.

“I love you,” he said.

“And I you.”

After that, Sophia had few conscious thoughts as her body responded to his. Contrary to his boast, he proved unable to control himself. His face registered her pain as he pushed into her, but he did not stop. Somehow Sophia managed to change position so that the pain lessened, but it was still there, even as she began to find some pleasure in his movement. Finally there was a moment when she was no longer herself, but more fully herself than she had ever been, because she and John were one. Then they lay panting side by side. When she could direct her body again she reached out for John’s hand and took it. He squeezed it.

“You must come closer,” he said, with a yawn, “I can hardly move.”

She moved closer and, placing her head upon his shoulder, she draped an arm over his chest. He caught her hand in his and held it over his heart. He was asleep before she had kissed him.

John woke and knew complete joy. It took him a moment to realise that he was alone, but he knew he had not dreamt it; Sophia had slept here with him. She had cared for him as if he was not the biggest fool there had ever been and he was a better man for it. She loved him and they had been united in their love. John stretched lazily and was reminded by a sharp pain in his arm that all was not well with his body. Even that did not matter. Sophia was alive and loved him and their lovemaking seemed to have pleased her as much as it pleased him.

He rose and found his watch. It was not as late as he had thought and he might be in time for breakfast. He washed and dressed quickly.

Mary was in the dining-room. She rose as he entered.

“John!”

She crossed the room to him and kissed his cheek.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said with a blush.

“Don’t be. All is well with the world this morning.” He smiled. “Sophia?”

Then John remembered.

“Damn!”

“Oh!”

With a start he realised what he had said.

“I beg your pardon, Mary. I’ve just realised... Foolish of me.”

He remembered Sophia’s gentle kisses; the way she had undressed him without a single blush; her response when he had taken possession of her lips; the touch of her hand as she had washed him and finally her naked body beside his.  How, then, had he forgotten to propose? He had allowed her to do these things, had, in fact, taken advantage of her. He had meant it to be the first thing he said when he saw her, but he had been tired and hungry. Then she had undressed him and all rational thought had fled from his mind. He should have been more in control, but he had seduced her and ruined her.

“You look unwell. Please sit.”

John obeyed, feeling more than a little sick. He had treated Sophia badly, incredibly badly.

“Were you badly injured? Edmund said not, but...”

He shook his head.

“No, little more than a scratch.” Mary sat beside him, but was poised as if to rise again.

“I’m perfectly well,” he said.

Mary placed her hand on the shoulder of his good arm, but he really did not have time for her concerns. 

“Where’s Sophia?”

“She went out early with Edmund to bring some more of the wounded back.”

He lowered his head and groaned. What must Sophia be thinking of him this morning?

“Are you sure you’re well?”

Mary’s hand was still on his shoulder. He had not been brought up to be rude to his hostess, so he raised his head to look at her.

“Quite sure. I’m just extremely stupid.”

Mary just looked at him and John bit his lip.

“I love Sophia more than life itself and I have always chosen the wrong time or the wrong way to tell her.”

Mary looked slightly surprised at the change of subject, but followed him.

“You have been careless of her.”

“I took her love for granted, but she loves me anyway.”

“She has grown into her love as you have yours.”

An uncomfortable suspicion crossed his mind. Did Mary somehow know that Sophia had spent the night in his bed?

“I wanted to hurt her once,” he said. “It’s incredible to me now that I refused to go back to her when she begged me to do so. I used Lizzie to excuse it to myself and to my mother.” He paused, seeing a way to avoid continuing a discussion that was painful to him and would distress Sophia if she knew about it. “Thank you again, for taking such good care of her.”

“She loves the children. It is impossible not to return that love.”

“You know her story?”

“Only what your mother has chosen to tell. Lizzie has no past before the day she arrived at Lady Caroline’s door. The other servants know only what they see, that she has been greatly damaged. One of the first things one of the maids told me when I joined Edmund’s household was that no woman need ever feel anything other than complete security there. I’m only sorry that we couldn’t take more of your girls.”

“There were a few other houses in London to which my mother entrusted them.”

They sat in silence for a while and John became even more uncomfortable.

“I am not like those men,” he protested suddenly.

“In what way has your behaviour to Sophia been more honourable? You did not greet me this morning with the news that you are engaged.”

She did know; she knew that he had betrayed her and Edmund’s trust under their own roof. She knew that he had ruined Sophia without a second’s thought,

“No,” he agreed, “I did not. I told you that I am extremely stupid.”

She nodded her agreement and John’s nausea increased. Did everyone know that he had ruined Sophia last night? Would her father find out? Would his? He would have put his head in his hands, but his arm hurt too much.

“Now,” Mary stood with unaccustomed briskness, “there’s food for you.”

John managed to stand before she got much further, but he felt dizzy and his stomach threatened once more to rebel.

“After breakfast I have need of your services to take food to the wounded men in the streets, unless the army needs you today.”

“No, it does not need me today.”

Mary swept out of the room and John began to work out to how to propose to Sophia so that she would not think he was doing it just because he had ruined her.

Sophia was glad to be sitting outside with Paul, rather than in the carriage with the wounded men. It had been bad enough yesterday, but these men had been left unattended for two days. The smell from the dead and dying was worse than it had been the day before. It had panicked the horses and Paul had struggled to control them. While Edmund and Paul had lifted the men into the carriage, she had taken food and water to other men lying nearby. With a now practised eye, she had passed over those who would be dead before the day was out. Once he had done what he could binding up the wounded, Edmund would stay to sit and pray with the dying. He wanted to do what he could for the men he had failed.

The journey to the battlefield had been painful. Edmund had been waiting for her in the courtyard. He had been pacing.

“You weren’t in your room,” he said.

“No.”

She had managed to wake in time, but had washed and dressed as best she could in John’s room. It had not occurred to her to return to her own room and call a maid to help. She had preferred to watch John sleep.

“Is John going to marry you?”

Marry? She could not remember him asking, but surely that had been his intention. He had even kissed her in front of Edmund. Surely he had known what he was doing. He had been tired, though, and last night he had been even more tired and she had been the one to undress him and kiss him. Sophia was heated by her embarrassment. She had encouraged him to take her to his bed. Then she remembered the jewellery he had given her before the Richmonds’ ball. He had pressed her to accept it for the sake of their friendship, but what if he had intended it as a gift to his mistress? If so, she only had herself to blame, for she had offered herself to him and last night he had taken what she offered.

“Sophia, will he marry you?”

Edmund ground out the words in the same way she supposed he wanted to grind John beneath his boot.

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

Edmund turned back towards the house.

“Leave it for now, please.”

She laid a restraining hand on his arm.

“I’ll call him out if he won’t take you.”

“Do you think I’d want him under those circumstances?”

She felt weary. Love had finally ruined her. Edmund took another step towards the house.

“And what of the men who will die if we don’t bring them back today? You can call him out when we return.”

“This isn’t a matter for levity.”

“Of course not,” she almost shouted, overcome by her anger. “John was exhausted. It was my fault.”

“You might think it happened like that, but it didn’t.”

“You will recall that I threw myself at you.”

“And he should have resisted, as I did.”

He shook her hand off, but made no further move towards the house.

“I was so glad that he was still alive…”

Unexpectedly Edmund blushed.

“Very well. I shall challenge him when we return. I can’t fight him until his wound heals anyway.”

Sophia doubted John would fight to defend his honour when he had behaved dishonourably. He would marry her and they would both know that he had not done so by choice.

She had spent the journey out alternately worrying about the future and remembering last night.

Sophia had found John’s body beautiful and not at all as she had expected it to be, despite having bathed so many men. His arms, chest and back were as tanned as his hands and face and she could not guess what the army might have asked him to do that required him to remove his jacket and shirt. Two of the toes on his right foot were the same length. The hair on his chest was sparse and wiry, but just as dark as the hair on his head. His buttocks were round and firm and had invited her to bite into the flesh as she would into a piece of fruit, a temptation she had resisted. Everything had been perfect... except... except he had said nothing of marriage. He had kissed her as if she was his for the taking and she had been.

Should she have resisted him? Did he now despise her? Should she despise him?

As the carriage drew closer to Brussels, she began to worry about what she would say to John and what he would say to her.

Mary and John came into the courtyard at the same time as the carriage; someone had been watching for them.

John helped her down. He looked her in the face, but there was no smile for her. His expression was not the least bit welcoming.

Mary was arguing with Paul; he wanted to go back to fetch more wounded. “At least let me go back and fetch Mr Finch,” he begged when Mary had explained that they already had more men than they could manage. “You know he’ll want to put a soldier on his horse and walk back himself.”

Mary gave in and Paul started carrying the men inside. Today it was Mary who tended to the wounds, while John and Sophia undressed the soldiers and bathed them. Sophia had expected John to protest that she should not do this, but he had seemed content to work with her. His strength was welcome, even if he could barely use his left arm. They worked in silence, but Sophia noticed gradually that John was touching her accidentally far more than a man who was not clumsy would and John was not clumsy, even with his wound. He seemed to be asking her forgiveness and begging her pardon constantly.

When John had covered the last soldier with the blanket that would be his bed on the floor of the library, Sophia slipped out to tell the housekeeper how many men would need to be fed that evening. As she started back across the hall towards the library, John was shutting the library door behind him.

“Sophia,” he said. “Please come into the... No, there are soldiers in there. There are servants in the dining-room. The boys are... Damn! Is there nowhere private in this house?”

“Follow me.”

Fearful of what he had to say, she led him into her bedroom. When he hesitated at the door, she said, “No one will disturb us here and no one will even think we’re here.”

Once inside John remained silent and Sophia had to prompt him.

“What is it you wanted to say that could not be said in public?”

“Sophia, I’m really very sorry.”

Tears sprung into her eyes and she swiped at them ineffectually.

“Don’t cry, my love, please. I can’t think when you cry.”

He held her and kissed the tears from her cheeks.

“You love me still?” she asked when she could speak.

“I know I gave you cause to doubt it last night. I was tired and...”

He stared into her eyes, his expression so utterly without hope that she stroked his cheek. He swallowed.

“I behaved badly last night. I had intended... I even thought I had... I was an idiot!”

“Oh!” Then he had not meant to kiss her or sleep with her.

“Forgive me, Sophia. I meant to ask you to marry me last night, but you kissed me and undressed me and... and I forgot. Then I must have convinced myself that I had. Please believe me. I would not have taken you to my bed if I had not thought...”

He stopped, like a clock running down, and hung his head.

“And now?” It came out as a thread of sound, against her will, for she was still afraid that he thought less of her because of what she had done last night.

John dropped to his knees in front of her, took her hand and kissed it. He examined it for a moment before he looked up at her.

“I love you. I have always loved you and will love you for the rest of my life. I have done little to deserve your love, but you have allowed me to hope. I gave you the jewellery to show my intent, but… it… it was a gift from a man to … Will you marry me?”