by Hilly Mason
“Good Heavens, what is in your bag that is making him act so hostile?” Isabel asked. “He is usually so sweet.”
“I brought my own cat with me.”
“You are a peculiar one, aren’t you?” Isabel observed, lifting her head up high to look down at her from her long, sloping nose. “Lord St. George doesn’t mind a few cats roaming around his estate to catch the mice and rats, but I will run it by him.”
There was the name again. St. George. Could it be Alex? He did come from a large family. Perhaps he had a wealthy uncle or cousin out in the country that she hadn’t known about.
A tickle in her lungs forced Sophia into a fit of coughs.
“Are you ill?” Isabel asked, her voice rising in alarm. Sophia noticed that at some point she had taken a handkerchief out and put it over her nose and mouth.
Sophia waved her hand dismissively. “Slightly. I’m on the mend.”
Isabel eyed her suspiciously. “Well, stay in your room until you have recovered. I can’t have all of the servants dropping like flies. The entire household would fall apart.”
“Heaven forbid,” Sophia said quietly.
The maid gave her a sharp look and then turned around abruptly.
When Isabel left, Sophia turned to Joyce. “Do you remember the full name of the man who owns this estate?” she asked her.
Joyce frowned as she pondered the question. “I’m sorry, Sophia. I cannot recall. I do remember that the child you are to teach is name is Annie, named after the Duchess Georgiana Cavendish, I believe.”
“Georgiana St. George? What a name.” Sophia remarked.
“Sophia, it’s all right to let Miss Isabel order me around. She seems like the type of woman who will want things to stay her way, and I don’t want to cause any trouble for you.”
“I got that impression, too.”
“I know that you like to speak your mind. But I think for your sake it would be best to keep quiet for a little bit. At least until we establish ourselves amongst the rest of the servants.”
Sophia’s father had always told her that he could read her face like a book. It would be hard to curb her tongue and look the other way, but for the sake of having money and accommodations, she would try.
“Oh, very well.”
Isabel came in a short while later as the two women were putting their possessions away in the truck at the foot of the bed.
“Joyce,” Isabel said. “I want you to come with me so I can show you what I expect you to be doing starting tomorrow morning.” She looked at Sophia. “Lord St. George is not yet home, but I’d imagine he’d want to speak to you about his daughter when he does. You can go to the servants’ hall downstairs if you want a bite to eat. The cooks have some fresh biscuits on the table.”
“Thank you,” Sophia said, and gave Joyce a reassuring nod before the other woman left. See, no petulance! she told her maid silently.
Soot had been wandering about the room while they had been putting their belongings away, and now she was sitting impatiently by the door, flicking her long tail. When Sophia finally noticed her, she let out a loud meow.
“Yes, I’m sure you’re hungry, too,” Sophia told her. “Perhaps I can find you a bit of chicken or fish in the kitchen.” She opened the door, and let out a cry of dismay as the cat bounded up the stairs at the end of the hall.
Oh drat, she couldn’t just let Soot wander up their alone. She didn’t think Lord St. George would want the feline in his halls, scratching up his furniture and knocking over furnishings. Sophia looked around in a desperate attempt to find a friendly face to help her, but the hall was devoid of all life. Now regretting the decision to take Soot with her to Ramsbury, she shook her head and went after the cat.
At the top of the stairs was a door slightly ajar that separated the servants’ hall from the main part of the house. As this was the only path the cat could have taken, Sophia pushed the door open and stepped through, rehearsing what she would say if she were to be found. Oh, I’m sorry, my lord, my cat escaped. Why do I have a cat, you ask? Well, I hardly know myself...
Sophia walked through the door and stared in wonder at the large hallway that greeted her. Paintings lined the walls: some reminiscent of Henry Fuseli or William Blake, depicting great battles between angels and demons in a dark, stark landscape. Others, in contrast, were austere family portraits, staring accusingly down at Sophia as though they judged her for defiling their halls with a dirty, stray cat. As she slowly walked down a long Persian rug, she heard a meow off into the distant and followed it, trying not to get distracted by the watchful eyes of Ramsbury’s past inhabitants, and the doleful gaze of the Grecian statues standing in the corners like sentinels.
She stepped into the drawing room where she spotted Soot scooting across the carpet in an attempt to pounce on something behind the pianoforte. Sophia went to her hands and knees and lunged after the cat, but froze when a pair of polished black boots greeted her line-of-sight instead.
She looked up slowly, her eyes trailing along long legs clad in trousers tucked into the shiny, clean boots. A fitted jacket barely concealed the taut muscles that lay underneath. And, oh God, his face! He had aged a little bit since she’d last seen him, but he was just as handsome, if not more. Whereas before he still had his boyish looks, now all of that was gone—he was undoubtedly all man. He had stylishly tousled dark brown hair and sideburns that lined his square jaw. His dark eyes—the same eyes that had made her feel faint when she had first met him—stared at her in disbelief.
“Alex,” Sophia said breathlessly.
He looked equally as shocked when he began to recognize her. His obsidian eyes widened, and he gazed perceptively at her from head to toe. Sophia suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious of her drab attire and longed to flee back to the servants’ hall. When she stood up, the room began to spin.
“Sophia?” he asked softly. “What in God’s name are you doing here?”
“Alex...” She stumbled, hitting the pianoforte with her backside. She gripped it with both hands as she tried to steady herself.
But it was too late. A dark curtain clouded her vision and her legs crumpled beneath her as she slipped into oblivion.
Chapter Seven
Luckily, Alex had enough of his wits left to catch the woman before she hit her head on the pianoforte and fell to the ground. He carried her limp body over to the chaise and laid her down carefully. His heart was beating erratically as he felt the woman’s forehead. It was warm to the touch. He rang a bell and Isabel came bustling in almost immediately. When she saw who was on the chaise her eyes widened.
“What happened?” she exclaimed as she rushed over to Sophia.
“If I only knew,” Alex remarked. He still wasn’t quite sure if he believed what he saw. Why was Sophia Gibbs in his drawing room? Why wasn’t he informed that she was visiting?
Was she here to try to take Comerford back?
“She is the little lady’s governess,” the maid explained, as though reading his thoughts.
Alex blinked at her. “Pardon me?”
“I said she is the new governess. She arrived not too long ago. Perhaps the journey from London was a bit too much for her. She said she was ill when she arrived.”
“But I thought the governess’s name was Susannah?”
Isabel looked at him like he had grown two heads.
“She is Susannah, milord. Susannah Markle.”
Was she playing a cruel joke on him? Susannah Markle, indeed!
“It seems as though she is running a high fever,” the maid remarked. “Shall I call on the physician?”
“Let Marcus drive you there,” Alex said, nodding. “It will be far quicker than walking.”
When Isabel left, he continued to stare at the woman. Sophia looked much like she did when last he’d seen her, the night of her proposal over four years ago. She was so beautiful that night, with her hair done up nicely and her yellow silk dress. She was the prettiest woman at the ball, and t
he only woman he had eyes on.
Even now, with her face flushed with fever and a faint sheen of sweat on her brow, she was beautiful. But her dress was dirty and torn, and her hair unkempt. And despite the fact that she had turned into an incredibly obnoxious woman, he felt a bit sorry for her.
Did she have no other option but to work as a governess? Why did she choose his estate to work at? He then remembered the shocked look in her eyes when their gazes locked.
She didn’t know I lived here.
How? His name had been right on the advertisement.
Sophia murmured something in her sleep and stirred, a crease forming between her eyebrows. Without thinking, Alex rested a hand on top of hers, and her forehead relaxed slightly. Her hand was warm from fever, but otherwise soft like the velvet chaise she rested on. She breathed steadily, her chest slowly rising and falling like the waves of the ocean. Alex could not help but notice how her stays peeking above the collar of her dress made the top of her breasts look—round, soft, and supple. He remembered years ago running his lips across them, tasting her skin, a heavenly combination of lavender and rose...
A young scullery maid, and his footman, Marcus, hurried into the room. Alex jumped as though he had been shocked and hastily withdrew his hand from Sophia. The servants bowed and curtsied to him before Marcus spoke.
“I will carry Miss Markle to her room to rest as we wait for the physician, if it pleases milord.” he told Alex.
Alex nodded, but frowned as the young man picked Sophia up effortlessly in his arms. What was this feeling? Annoyance? Jealousy? He was aghast that such an emotion could rise up in him even after all of these years of not seeing the woman. It was almost the same feeling as when he had heard of Lord Gibbs’ proposal to her.
Quickly, he left his drawing room to go speak with his sister.
Diana was in the solar writing a letter when she noticed her brother walk in. She lay her pen down and gave him a good, long look.
“What is it?” she asked him. “It looks as though you had seen a ghost.”
“In a way I have,” he replied. He sat down on the chair next to her and dropped his head in his hands. “Sophia Gibbs is Annie’s governess.”
“Sophia. That Sophia, you mean?”
Alex nodded miserably.
“Dear God, I haven’t thought about that charlatan in years! How did you let that happen?”
“I was under the impression that a Susannah Markle was going to work for me, not Sophia Gibbs. I suppose that is what she calls herself now.”
“Why would she come to work for you, after all that has happened between you two?”
“I do not think she knew I lived here.”
“How?” Diana began, but Alex shrugged. She narrowed her eyes. “Well, you cannot allow such a woman to be around your daughter. It would be a bad influence on little Annie.”
Alex lifted his head and blinked at his sister. He was so lost in his memories of unrequited love as a young man that he had almost forgotten the entire scandal involving Sophia and her murdered husband.
“She was acquitted of murder, Diana. You cannot think...”
“Well, they didn’t find the killer, did they?” Diana asked. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms to stave off a chill. “Just her presence is enough to bring us bad luck.”
“I didn’t take you for superstitious.”
“Really, Alex? Do you want scandal to fall upon your child?”
Alex hesitated. She did have a point.
“You have to let her go. Send her back to London. Let her figure out what to do from there.”
His sister went back to writing her letter as Alex quietly pondered her words. He was surprised that he was actually hesitating so much. He had been so grieved by Sophia’s cold rejection that he thought that he wouldn’t want anything to do with her ever again. But he almost felt guilty by her presence. Things must be difficult for her if she had to switch from being a well-known debutante in London to being a governess sleeping in the servants’ hall.
It’s because I took away her home.
No, it wasn’t his fault. Sophia’s husband was the one who left the poor woman swimming in debt, with naught else to do but to sell Comerford.
And for Sophia to be Annie’s governess? Certainly not. That would raise even more complications.
His butler appeared at the doorway and bowed to him. “Sir, the physician has arrived for Miss Markle.”
“Thank you, Giles.”
Diana looked up from her work. “The physician? What does this mean?”
“Sophia... Lady Gibbs arrived with a slight cold.”
“My God, Alex. You are worried about her, aren’t you?”
Alex’s face flushed. “I am only being a proper host, Diana,” he said tightly. “As to your expectations, I believe you will be highly disappointed.”
“A host? So, you are going to get rid of her?”
“That is still a matter of consideration. I do need to decide what is best for little Annie.”
The relieved look on Diana’s face did not pass unnoticed by Alex. Lady Sophia Gibbs had been the topic of conversation in all of the balls and social gatherings he had attended since news came out of her arrest. If people were to find word that she was living under his roof, and educating his sweet-tempered child, well, that might ruin all prospects for Annie to marry into a wealthy, influential family.
Once Sophia was on the mend he would tell her himself that she would need to leave. Wherever she did go was not his concern.
For the remainder of the afternoon Alex paced his study. At times he did manage to finish some bookwork, counting the numbers and organizing his papers for his accountant to look through later, but his mind remained elsewhere, down below his house where he knew Sophia was resting. Had she awoken? Was it indeed just a mild sickness and not something worse?
His thoughts disturbed him greatly, and he decided to escape from the walls of Ramsbury. He saddled his horse without the aid of his footmen, who were so eager to assist him. The myriad of servants were an addition brought upon him by his late wife, who had insisted they hire as many servants as they could to make them look rich and powerful.
“You never know,” she had told him. “With how many members of the royal family that frequent your gaming clubs, I’d imagine your influence will bump you up from baron to marquis in no time.”
The M in the letters... Was the M for marquis? Alex gripped the reigns of his horse tightly as he galloped across the green fields. He couldn’t help but wonder if his wife got impatient with him for not obtaining the prestigious title of marquis and ended up finding her own marquis to copulate with to settle her desires.
Ramsbury was settled on ten acres of sprawling countryside. Alex also owned some land in Chertsey, where he rented out houses to merchants and families. But the land surrounding Ramsbury House was his alone. Toward the back of his house, away from the main road connecting Chertsey to London was all forested, with birch and oak trees scattered like chess pieces on a board. Whenever Alex felt the need to escape from his obligations, he went to the forest. The lack of people pestering him, or the stacks of papers to scan through was enough to calm his spirits.
The sun was beginning to set by the time he returned to the stables. The physician, Mr. Johnson, was waiting for him next to Marcus. Alex dismounted from his horse and pushed his windblown hair away from his face as Marcus took the stallion away to be brushed and fed.
“How is she?” he asked the physician.
“I gave her laudanum to help her sleep easier,” Mr. Johnson replied. “But she is quite ill. I believe it to be a form of pneumonia, with the troubled way she is breathing. Her maid mentioned that she and Miss Markle had been sleeping in desolate conditions for the past few weeks, which I would attribute to her current state.”
“What kind of conditions?”
“For weeks she slept on the ground of an old wise woman’s herbal shop in London,” Mr. Johnson explained. “Th
ey were housekeepers for the woman before coming over here. Do you need me for anything else?”
Alex shook his head. “Will she be all right, then?”
“We can only wait and see.”
That wasn’t very reassuring. “Very well. Thank you. Would you like me to get my footman to drive you back to town?”
“That won’t be necessary. I have another home to visit along the way and don’t mind the walk.”
Alex nodded, and the physician left, holding his wooden box of potions in one hand as he whistled down the road.
Alex put his horse away and went back into his house, changing out of his riding gear. He desired greatly to go down to the servants’ hall and see for himself how Sophia was faring. He assured himself that it was mostly to see if she really did exist, that her being in his drawing room wasn’t just some figment of his imagination, that it hadn’t been some other woman chasing after a cat.
The cat.
He had completely forgotten about the creature he had almost tripped over. Why was Sophia chasing after a cat anyway? He went down to the drawing room to look for it.
“Kitty, kitty,” he called out, feeling foolish and also grateful that his servants and his sister were out of hearing. He thought he heard a quiet meow and went down on his hands and knees to peer underneath the pianoforte.
A pair of glowing eyes blinked slowly at him in the darkness. “Ah, there you are, you beast,” he said softly. “Come on out; I’m not going to harm you.”
It took more than a few minutes until he finally was able to coax the furry creature from under the instrument. Alex happily realized that the creature was docile as he lifted her into his arms and held her gently against his chest. Already, his coat and pants were covered in fur to accompany the mud he acquired during his ride.
“Let’s take you back down to your mistress, shall we?”
He ignored the shocked expressions of his servants as he walked down into their hall. People stopped what they were doing and stared at him with wide eyes, and almost a guilty look like they’d been caught doing something wrong. Did he really intimidate them that much? Eventually he found Isabel and asked her where Sophia was resting.