“I was not expecting guests, Dr Vincent. You should have informed me beforehand, and I would have made preparations.”
“Yes, I should have sent word to you Eugenia, but time did not permit it,” said Vincent in a low tone. He looked at the older woman and gave her a fake smile.
Eugenia rolled her eyes and returned the fake smile.
“I am no good with introductions. Make your salutations and we shall go from there,” said Vincent in a rushed voice.
“I am Eugenia, the caretaker of Dr Vincent’s home. And who are you?” asked the woman in a cold tone.
“My name was Sophia Neale,” she said, looking at the hardwood floor. “Now, I am to go by the name of Mrs. Sophia Stirling,”
“What nonsense are you speaking, missy?” asked Eugenia, her voice rising.
Sophia stood in an awkward silence.
“Are you telling me that you have married the doctor?”
“Yes, I am his wife - a new addition to the household.”
“Well, what a way to upset everything,” muttered Eugenia under her breath. “Follow me, ma’am.”
The woman showed her to a small dim room.
“This is where you will stay as Dr Vincent has not told me any different. Do not think for an instant that you will stay in his quarters. If you need anything, let me know first, before you pester him. Any questions?”
“No, ma’am. I wish to sleep at the moment.”
“I am certain that you will need it, as you have a long journey ahead being the new wife.”
Eugenia backed out of the room.
Sophia was too tired to ponder her strange remark. She put on her nightgown, lay on the small bed and sank into a deep slumber. Dreams always came to her with ease and tonight was no different.
She was strolling the tree covered gravel path under the darkness of the tree canopy. Her back was tensed with fear, but she kept walking. The density of the darkness became overpowering, and she could no longer see the gravel beneath her feet.
She strained to make out a faint glimmer of light ahead. She ran to it, but it eluded her grasp. The tree branches began to scrape her bare arms. Blood streamed down. She screamed out in pain and woke up as the sound left her throat.
Sophia’s heart almost beat out of her chest as she lay there in shock. Sleep would not return. She never had night sweats, but this room was feeling too warm. She had to go outside. The air would cool her warm face.
Was I running from this mansion, or to it?
“I am a new bride in a large neglected mansion, and unsure of this new life,” she said out loud as she walked on the terrace outside.
Feeling her anxiety subside, Sophia turned to go back to her room. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a shadow moving around the corner of the terrace. She stopped in her steps. She listened for footsteps but heard none. She took a step, stopped and listened again, to hear only the rustling of the leaves from the wind blowing in the trees. Feeling fear take over, she raced to her new room, locked the door and hid under the covers.
Chapter Two
Sophia could not sleep. She prayed for daybreak to arrive. When it did, she dressed for the day, hoping that the routine would calm her. She went to the large dining hall. The walls were filled with old paintings. She gazed at the paintings as she waited to be served.
She sat at the long table, surprised to be eating alone. Eugenia walked in from the kitchen, along with a younger woman wearing an apron.
“Good morning, ma’am,” she said in a cheerful voice. “I am Mary Ganey, the cook. I have brought your breakfast.”
She placed a plate of eggs, toast, and bacon before Sophia. It smelled delicious.
“Thank you so much, Mary.”
“It is a pleasure, ma’am.”
“Please call me Sophia.” She picked up her fork, taking a bite full of eggs. She had not realized how famished she was from her journey.
“If you insist, ma’am,” said Mary, standing beside a dining chair. “How was your first night in the Stirling mansion?”
“Not the best. I believe that I am exhausted from everything that has happened. I had the strangest dream,” replied Sophia, as she buttered her toast.
Eugenia gave a slight grin.
Sophia did not return the grin. She felt uneasy at Eugenia’s expression. She continued to eat in silence.
“Is Dr Stirling joining me for breakfast?” Asked Sophia, breaking the uncomfortable moment of silence.
“He has already eaten breakfast with us in the kitchen. We are early risers and do not eat with guests,” said Eugenia sticking her chin out.
“I am not a guest. I am a member of the household now. Will I always have to eat in solitude?”
Sophia gave a small laugh. It sounded brittle, to her ears.
Eugenia failed to answer.
Sophia glanced at a painting on the wall at the end of the dining room. It showed a well-dressed family - a curly haired baby boy sat on the lap of a pretty young woman, who had a sad look on her face, as the baby smiled up at her.
“Who are they?” asked Sophia pointing to the painting.
“Ask your new husband. This is his home. He holds all of the secrets,” Eugenia said, as she left the dining room.
Sophia tried hard to swallow the bit of bacon which she had just put in her mouth. She attempted not to look back at the painting as she ate. The man’s cold eyes made her shiver.
Chapter Three
Sophia left the dining room feeling full and looked at more of the artwork. She wondered where her new husband was, and why he had not given her a personal tour. She walked the hallways, noticing the peeling paint and stained cracks.
“This mansion is not doing well,” Sophia muttered.
“Maybe you are here to make it better.”
Sophia jumped as she heard the voice of Vincent, who was standing in the doorway of one of the many rooms.
“I was talking to myself, Sir. It is one of my habits.”
“I must continue to listen in doorways to hear your hidden secrets then,” said Vincent, as he motioned for her to enter the room.
“I hope that you do not mind me saying so, but your home needs attention,” said Sophia, as she sat down in a brown leather chair.
“I think it has character,” said Vincent, sitting across from her at a desk.
“The character it displays may not be the most pleasant.”
Vincent smiled.
“Do you find me unpleasant?”
Thrown by his question, Sophia looked away and felt her cheeks growing warm.
“You can tell me. After all, I am your husband now,” he said, looking directly at her.
“You are cordial... enough,” stammered Sophia. “You are a doctor and you must have some care for the welfare of others, or you would not have taken on such a profession.”
“Precisely. I come from a family of those who have cared for others,” he said, looking at papers on his desk.
Sophia perked up.
“Like the family in the painting in the dining room?”
“I am the small baby, sitting on the lap of my mother, with my father at her side. He grew up in Derbyshire, became a physician and planted our family here in this mansion, which was left to him by a member of the ton, in gratitude for his services.”
“You were a precious baby, Sir.”
“I can still be precious,” he said, eyeing her reaction. She blushed and looked at his desk.
“My blushing bride. How sweet is this?” Sophia could not speak.
“You are sweet, but what is not sweet is that family in the painting. It happened to capture a moment and that is all. Do you have any further questions?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Please refrain from calling me Sir. I am your husband. Call me Vincent.”
“All right, Vincent.”
“Good, I can begin to enjoy the sound of your lovely voice saying my name many times,” he laughed. “Your question, Sophia?”
>
“I do not mean to offend you, but you are a doctor. It is not becoming for a man of your status to live in this manner. Why do you allow your home to remain in such ill repair?” asked Sophia, continuing to look at his desk, and noticing the chipped wood.
“This mansion is quite old. There is a story behind it, but now is not the time to indulge you.”
Sophia looked at him.
“I thought that we were discussing secrets, as you said.”
Vincent squirmed in his chair.
“It is important that you understand that I am professional. I allow my head to lead me, but I do have a heart too,” he aimed his finger at his heart. “Although I endeavour to forget about it on a daily basis.”
He gave her a speech on the medical profession. She paid attention to his words, when she would rather have tuned him out. She could not do it. He walked over to her, and took her finger and pointed it at her head, and then to her own heart. She could not resist how warm his fingers felt against her hand. He glided into her personal space, leaving a hint of a romantic overtone.
“I have ideas.” He pulled papers from his desk. “You see, Sophia,” said Vincent. “I am thinking of a future.” The papers were drawings – plans for changes to the building, she thought.
“Thank you for sharing it with me,” said Sophia. “Do not feel obligated to entertain me.”
Was that the correct response? She smoothed her hand across the papers. She tingled at the crispness, imagining how Vincent poured his energy over them. She faced Vincent, tingles moving from her fingers to other parts of her body.
“There are other places I could be right now, but I am rather enjoying the view I have in my own house.” He chuckled. “We will be creators together after all.”
Sophia grimaced, “I think that it is best I give you your privacy to work.”
“No, listen, we can create many things together. Come with me.”
They spent an hour going from floor to floor as Sophia felt no more creative than when they started. She looked at Vincent with a weary smile.
He let out a laugh, “Take it all in. You need a moment?”
Sophia turned to step away from Vincent. It wasn’t just the mansion. It was having to live with such an intoxicating stranger such as Dr Vincent Stirling. She could not allow this man’s spell overwhelm her. He confused her. One moment he was being obnoxious, and the next he was showing depth and care for her.
She turned to look at his wavy, thick hair as he was focusing on the drawings which he held up against the wall. She breathed in and stepped next to him. He looked at her and smiled. He slowly took the papers down from the wall.
“Do not look at me in that manner. It is frustrating.”
With a raised eyebrow, she asked, “Frustrating? Why?”
She could tell that he was enjoying every second. He liked confusing her. His simple smile had control over her. Sophia refused to reveal this thought to him. They walked back to his office as they spoke.
“I hardly know you. We need time to become acquainted in the proper manner. You do have the upper hand, but I also have some say in the matter.”
Vincent’s smile quietly disappeared.
“Be calm, Sophia. I know that this is all new to you. It will work out in the end. You did not ask for this and neither did I.”
“I am calm, Sir.” Sophia could pretend that she knew how to relax with Vincent around. She knew that this marriage was important to both of their lives, not to mention her future here in the mansion. Sophia brushed her thick curls back from her tense forehead, but, as usual, they sprang back to the same spot, as soon as she released them. “I really have to get back to my room and I am sure that you have patients to see.”
Vincent stopped walking for a moment.
“All right, I will take leave of you. I have patients to attend to in town, and my driver, Davis, will take me, momentarily. You may enjoy the premises in my absence.”
Vincent stood up from the desk, grabbed his black doctor’s bag, and left the room.
He looked at her, walked towards the front door, to leave the mansion, then turned on his heel and came back in her direction. He looked down at his black bag.
He leaned in to take her trembling hand in his. The scent of his cologne drifted over her. Why did he have to smell so good? She quickly recalled that same scent from their carriage ride. The warm touch of his large hand heated her, even while she remained uneasy. She remembered how his whole body had been a cosy warmth to sit next to on the seat, during the long journey. The memories flooded her thoughts.
Vincent lingered a moment. Then he spoke slowly.
“If you insist that I take leave of you, I will.”
His eyes were warm upon her, and she thought, for a moment, that he did not want to go. Then Vincent turned away again, towards the door, and his carriage.
She looked down at her hand, wondering what to do with it. Just the feel of his hand in hers and knowing that Vincent had held it, was enough to make her melt into uncertainty. She stared at the doorway he had just walked through. The room felt lonely without him. She would not allow these thoughts to get the better of her. This mansion was enough to deal with.
Sophia took the hand that he had held in her other hand, paying little attention to the soft feel of hers, but remembering the firmness of his. She was going to deal with this marriage in a proper fashion. There was no other choice. Her family depended on it.
Sophia shook her head, and sat in the chair staring at his desk.
She sat in his office for fifteen minutes more, taking in the fading paint, the books piled on the floor, the pieces of paper thrown in the corners and the weird sharp objects strewn across a high-backed couch.
What kind of life am I going to have here?
Chapter Four
The next morning, Mary served Sophia’s breakfast alone. There was no sign of Eugenia. Sophia was pleased and felt more comfortable talking to a young woman who was closer to her age.
“She was a beautiful woman, but she does appear to be sad. Do you know who she was?” asked Sophia, pointing at the painting.
Mary sat down at the table with her.
“Keep your voice low, you never know who may be listening.”
“If you are referring to Dr Stirling. I saw him leave for the day. However, I know that he listens in doorways,” said Sophia raising her eyebrows.
“There are ears everywhere. Be mindful of what you say and to whom you say it.”
“I know that Eugenia is not happy about my arrival. I will be on my guard with her. Can you tell me about the painting?”
“Well, her name was Victoria and she was your husband’s mother. His father was having an affair with the child’s nurse. Victoria was always poised and correct, but she was resigned to her place in life, as his wife in name only.”
“Now, I understand the sadness.”
“Her sadness increased when the nurse became pregnant with her husband’s child. They did manage to keep it well hidden from everyone in the town. The doctor’s father was so smitten with the young nurse, he resorted to poisoning his wife so that he could live alone with his lover,” said Mary, in a low voice.
“What a horrid thing to do,” said Sophia. She stared at the woman’s sad eyes in the painting. "And who raised little Vincent?”
“My Aunt Eugenia came here to help raise him,” said Mary, placing her elbows on the table.
“I did not know that she was your aunt,” replied Sophia. “I apologise if I offended you with my thoughtless opinion of her.”
“I take no offense. I know that she is as hard the stone walls in this mansion. She is also the sister of the nurse, Ella,” she rested her face on her hand.
“She chose to live here and take care of her sister’s lover’s child? It is unbelievable,” Sophia said, resting her fork on the plate. “What happened to the nurse’s baby and the nurse?”
“My mother died in childbirth, and you’re looking at little b
aby Mary,” she said in a flat tone.
Sophia gasped.
“The bodies of both women are buried here on the grounds, and some think that they haunt the house,” said Mary rubbing her temples. Sophia opened her eyes wide and her mouth dropped open. “No need to fear the dead. I have heard that they both had beautiful spirits.”
“Why would they haunt the house?” asked Sophia.
“They seek to haunt the source of their pain,” responded Mary. “This is the story handed down to me.” Sophia gave Mary a weak smile.
“Have I answered your question about the portrait, Mrs. Stirling?” asked Mary pointing at the portrait.
“You may call me Sophia, because you are my sister-in-law as you’ve disclosed to me.”
“In a sense, however, I do not push myself forward, because I am an unwanted child from an unmarried woman. Dr Vincent and I are half-siblings. He allows me and my Aunt Eugenia to live here, and to help take care of them.”
“Them? Who is them? Who else is living here?”
“I know that Dr Vincent would love to tell you about his house. I do not know much about your background, but I was told that he saved your sick mother from the brink of death. Although you come from different worlds, you may have much in common.”
“I do not understand.”
“I have overstepped my bounds. It is not my place, I am here to feed you,” said Mary, pushing back her chair.
“No, you have not, Mary. I would like for us to be friends. I could use one in this dismal place,” said Sophia, looking at Mary as she stood up.
“I do not want to give you false hope, but you deserve to have good things to come from your situation. That is precisely why you are here.”
“You have enlightened me, to say the least. Yet it has just raised more questions. I now feel enveloped in sadness.”
“There is a great deal of grief. Perhaps you can change it, by bringing new life into this home.”
“So, I am the fortunate one?”
“I try to think that I am most fortunate. It is my story too after all. WE are, I am sure, both more fortunate than my mother, and Dr Vincent’s mother. Let me know when you meet our ghosts.”
Love in the Moonlight: A Regency Romance All Hallows' Eve Collection: 7 Delightful Regency Romance All Hallows' Eve Stories (Regency Collections Book 6) Page 49