Social Graces

by Wendy Soliman

‘By which he means me,’ Olivia added, smiling. ‘But sometimes common sense needs to prevail.’

  ‘Your idea was a good one,’ Otto said. ‘But I fail to understand why you didn’t ask Jake or me to be there with you, hidden in another room. Surely you realised that if the killer turned up you would not be permitted to leave the place alive.’

  ‘Would you have agreed to my plan had I told you in advance?’ She sent Otto a challenging look. ‘I thought not,’ she said when Otto failed to meet her gaze. ‘Anyway, I couldn’t be sure that I would be able to get anyone else into the apartment without their being seen. The porter might not have been there, but from what you had discovered it occurred to me that Tyrell had to be somehow watching and listening in to Connie’s apartment, and I was right about that.’ She sent Otto a look that defied him to deny it. He could not, and looked away. ‘It never would have worked if I had not gone there alone. We achieved justice and,’ she added, glancing across the room to where Riley stood in conversation with Woodford, ‘Lord Chichester has regained his precious reputation.’

  Otto blew air through his lips. ‘The moment we told him that the murderer had been taken into custody, I hear tell he did a circuit of his clubs, parading through the rooms like a strutting peacock. It makes me sick to the stomach to think about it. And once he was sure that his reputation remained intact, he ran back off to Chichester to the bosom of his family to nurse his wounds and congratulate himself on a lucky escape, no doubt. Not a word of gratitude has come our way for saving his miserable neck.’

  ‘Given the character of the father, I am very glad that Riley is cut from a different cloth,’ Olivia said. ‘It was kind of him to make the effort to come. His father will not be best pleased if he hears of it but is hardly in a position to complain. He should have come to pay his respects himself. It’s the very least he could have done.’

  ‘I wonder what Lord Riley will do about his determination for a police force that administers a fairer form of social justice,’ Sophia said. ‘Do you suppose the desire for reform will fade with maturity?’

  ‘Somehow I doubt it,’ Jake replied. ‘He is a remarkable young man, with principles he’s prepared to live by. I firmly believe that he would have disowned his father had it transpired that he murdered his mistress, despite the difficulties that would have caused for him and the rest of his family. Not many youths of fifteen, born into positions of privilege, would follow their consciences. Anyway, time will tell. I intend to keep an eye on him and will help him if I possibly can. I was impressed with your Constable Salter as well, Otto. I have had several conversations with him during the tidying up of this business and he seems like just the sort of man that the modern police force needs within its ranks. A slave to duty who has a good head on his shoulders and a keen sense of justice. I shall keep a watchful eye on his career, too.’

  Otto nodded his agreement and turned towards Sophia. ‘No news from your parents since—’

  ‘Since my father descended upon Grandmamma’s the day after my article appeared, demanding my immediate return to Hertfordshire?’ Sophia shook her head. ‘Grandmamma was magnificent and set him straight in no time at all. I cannot help thinking that if she had been more supportive of Connie, she might still be alive today, but at least some good has come out of her death. It has brought Grandmamma to her senses. She told Papa that despite the fact that our neighbour was graciously willing to overlook my outrageous foray into journalism and was still willing to marry me, she would fight tooth and nail to prevent me from making such a disastrous mistake. She told him I would be residing with her for as long as I wished so that I could pursue my career.’

  ‘Is that what you want to do?’ Olivia asked.

  Sophia glanced briefly at Otto and then nodded decisively. ‘For now,’ she said.

  ***

  Two weeks after Connie’s funeral Otto approached Haughton Street with a determined step, mindful of the events that had taken place in that building on the last occasion he had set foot in it. He nodded to the porter but didn’t pause to state his business. It was not Stoker, who had been relieved of his duties by the owners of the freehold. Otto moved with such authority that the man didn’t challenge him as he ran lightly up the steps to Connie’s apartment. Breathing deeply to quell his nerves, he tapped at the door. It took an age for Sophia to answer and the wait did little to temper his increasing uncertainty about the warmth of his reception.

  ‘Oh,’ she said, blinking back her surprise when she finally opened the door and saw him standing on the threshold. She looked charmingly dishevelled, presumably because she had been rooting through her sister’s possessions. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘A fine welcome,’ he said, smiling at her. ‘May I come in?’

  ‘If you like. I am sorting out Connie’s things. The apartment is to be re-let, you see.’

  ‘Olivia told me I would find you here.’ His smile was sympathetic. ‘It can’t be easy for you.’

  ‘Things are usually not as bad as you build yourself up to suppose they will be,’ she said, looking everywhere except at him. She left a long pause. ‘I didn’t expect ever to see you again.’

  ‘Because you think I have neglected you these past two weeks? It was not neglect but consideration. I thought it best to leave you to reacquaint yourself with your grandmother. The new, improved version.’

  Sophia met his gaze. ‘Her attitude has shocked me more than a little. The austere woman has been replaced by an irreverent one who is rather fun to be with. Now that she has cast off the shackles of the person she was trained to be and thought she was, she has found the courage to be herself. Perhaps Connie and I are…were more like her than we realised. Anyway, she seems to be making up for lost time by offending all of her straitlaced friends. She defends Connie and me to the hilt and insists that she is inordinately proud of us both.’

  Otto laughed. ‘Good for her.’

  ‘Why are you here?’ Sophia asked, her own smile fading.

  ‘I want to talk to you.’ He took her hand and led her to a sofa, using his other hand to wipe away a smudge of dirt from the end of her nose. ‘What do you intend to do with yourself now?’ he asked, seating himself beside her and retaining possession of her hand.

  She lifted one shoulder. ‘Remain with Grandmamma and continue to make a name for myself with my articles. Now that my identity as a woman is common knowledge, my scribbles seem to have attracted a wider audience. Curiosity, I suppose, but hopefully some of the readers will enjoy my work and remain loyal.’

  ‘Is that what you really want to do?’

  ‘Of course.’ She seemed surprised by the question. ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘You mentioned something about a series of articles upon the legal system and its imperfections.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’ She looked away from him again, her face an unreadable mask.

  ‘Have I said something to offend you?’ Otto asked, at a loss to understand her mercurial mood, yet understanding it all too well.

  ***

  Sophia died a little inside. Otto could not have made his lack of interest in her more apparent by ignoring her these past two weeks. She had got over her disappointment, told herself repeatedly that she had known it would have to be that way. They had found justice for Connie and now she was prepared to forget Otto and put all her energies into her new life as a bona fide journalist. It ought to have been enough for her. She was free of her parents’ restrictive control, her grandmother was proving to be a rather game old bird and she had a burgeoning career that offered her the opportunity to prove herself equal to any man in the same profession.

  It was more than most women in her position could ever have hoped to achieve, and yet she felt dissatisfied. There was a gaping hole in her life. She felt empty and hollow inside because she was desperately in love with the unattainable gentlemen seated beside her, and that love was not returned.

  ‘Offended?’ She gave a trill little laugh, acutely aware that he was still ho
lding her hand but lacking the strength of will to snatch it back again. ‘What a question.’

  ‘I have wanted to come and see you every single day since the funeral. I haven’t stopped thinking about you, or worrying.’

  She blinked at him. ‘You haven’t?’

  ‘I haven’t, and yet I knew you needed time to grieve and to adjust to your changed circumstances. Besides, you are still in mourning.’

  ‘Yes, for another five months, according to convention. But I know I shall grieve for the senseless loss of my sister for the rest of my life.’

  ‘Five months is an eternity. I knew after five days that I couldn’t leave you be for half that time. I was hoping to hold out for a month, but…well, here I am.’

  ‘Yes, but why?’ Sophia found the courage to meet his gaze and hold it. ‘You haven’t told me why.’

  ‘Why, you nincompoop. Is it not obvious?’

  ‘Not to me.’

  ‘Very well then.’ He ran his fingers down the length of hers and caressed her with his eyes. Sophia felt intoxicated by the intensity of his gaze and was powerless to look away. ‘Staying away from you is the hardest thing I have ever forced myself to do. Every moment I thought that some other impertinent cove might…However, that was my cross to bear. I am here now and cannot wait another minute, another second, to tell you how much I admire and love you.’

  Sophia shook her head, convinced she had only heard the words in her imagination. She had willed him to declare himself and her mind was playing tricks on her. Common sense prevailed. Even if he had developed feelings for her, he was not free to please himself. And yet here he was, as large as life and even more handsome than she recalled, an entreating expression writ large across his features. She had never seen him half so unsure of himself before, and it gave her the courage to hope.

  ‘You say you admire me, yet you didn’t stop scolding me once Felsham had been taken into custody.’

  ‘Because I blamed myself for your getting into that situation. I died a thousand deaths when we entered this room and I thought Felsham was going to strangle you out of sheer malice. He was no longer in control, knew the game was up but couldn’t be relied upon not to take one last act of revenge.’ He ran a hand abstractedly through his hair. ‘I should have taken better care of you.’

  Sophia blinked, taken aback by the passion that fuelled his words. She dared to hope that he really did believe what he said. ‘I am not your responsibility.’

  He brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes. ‘Perhaps I wish to make you so.’

  She swallowed. ‘You do?’

  ‘It’s clear to me that you cannot be trusted to behave yourself when left to your own devices.’ The raw, primal desire in his expression stole her breath away. ‘Let me take care of you, sweet Sophia.’

  ‘You are asking me to be your mistress?’ She sent him an affronted look.

  ‘Never!’ He seemed totally shocked by the suggestion. ‘What do you take me for?’

  ‘Then I don’t understand.’

  ‘I want you, my foolish, headstrong, impetuous lioness to be my wife.’

  Sophia’s mouth fell open. ‘Your wife?’

  ‘Certainly. Of course, it would be crass of me to propose whilst you are still in mourning but I cannot bear the thought of anyone else beating me to it.’ He lifted their clasped hands to his lips and kissed the back of her fingers. ‘Would it be presumptuous to ask for an undertaking that we can ratify when you are out of mourning? If your feelings for me run one tenth as deep as mine do for you then you would not hesitate to agree.’

  ‘But your mother…’ Sophia shook her head. It was hard to think straight when desire ripped thought her with the force of a hurricane and the temptation to agree to become his wife and damn the consequences was almost too strong to resist.

  Almost.

  She would never be accepted by society, she reminded herself. Her interaction with the odious Lord Chichester had shown her how, with a few notable exceptions, the upper classes closed ranks against outsiders. She loved Otto too comprehensively to allow him to be held back by her.

  ‘What of my mother?’

  ‘She has expectations.’ Sophia studied their joined hands. ‘You made a point of telling me that when we first met.’

  ‘Oh, that.’ Otto flapped his free hand. ‘My mother and father enjoy a blissful marriage. She is a romantic and wants all her children to be as happy as she is. That’s why she is always trying to marry me off. But if she knows I have lost my heart to you and that you return my feelings, she will be the first to wish us joy.’

  ‘But…but I am middle-classed.’

  ‘Times are changing, as your grandmother can attest. Think about it, my sweet. That’s all I ask of you. But rest assured my mother will welcome you with open arms should you return my feelings.’

  ‘But I am not one of you.’

  ‘You once told me the upper classes are a little too fond of inter-breeding.’

  Sophia suppressed a giggle. ‘I did say that, didn’t I?’

  ‘You did, and you were right.’

  ‘Perhaps, but I don’t know how to behave in—’

  Otto laughed. ‘You do worry about the strangest things.’

  ‘Strange to you, perhaps,’ she replied, miffed.

  ‘You lived for three days with an earl and countess without ever putting a foot wrong. You possess all the social graces without feeling the need to put on airs. You will never allow anything to intimidate you. Besides, I am more interested in pursuing my career than mixing with society’s elite nowadays. But a word of warning; I can keep you in modest style, but nothing like that enjoyed by Jake and Olivia.’

  ‘As if I would worry about such a thing. But what of my career? That is as important to me as yours is to you. I wouldn’t want to give it up.’

  ‘I would never ask you to. You can continue with it for as long as you wish. I will give you nothing but encouragement. Upon that score you have my solemn word.’

  Sophia’s head whirled. She felt the essence of Connie, peering over her shoulders and encouraging her to embrace happiness before it slipped from her grasp, just as Connie herself had intended to do. Connie had known without a shadow of a doubt that Mr Woodford was the man for her, just as Sophia knew that no man other than Otto would ever own her heart. That decided her. Life was fleeting and one seldom had second chances. Besides, something that felt so right couldn’t possibly be wrong. She smiled and threw her arms around Otto’s neck.

  ‘If you are sincere then I don’t have to think about it,’ she said, lifting her face to his and inviting him to kiss her to seal their bargain.

  The End

  If you are wondering whether Lord Riley stuck to his principles, check out the Riley Rochester Investigates series.

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  I was brought up on the Isle of Wight, off the Hampshire coast of southern England, surrounded by castles, stately homes and history at every turn. I must have unwittingly absorbed the historic atmosphere because I write mostly about bygone days, living vicariously alongside my strong heroes and independently-minded heroines.

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