Lord Sandford was ushered in and I requested tea and fruit bread, before dismissing Hawkes.
'Miss Musgrove! How are you?' Lord Sandford asked.
'I am very well, thank you, Lord Sandford. It is good to see you,' I said politely.
'Perhaps we could walk in the garden together?' he suggested.
'Of course, if you wish,' I agreed, trying not to sound as nervous as I felt. I asked Annie to bring me a shawl, and told her that we would take our tea on the garden patio.
As we made our way through the scented bowers in the garden, Lord Sandford spoke very plainly.
'Miss Musgrove, I fear I have embarrassed myself, foolish man that I am,' he began. 'You see, I believed you were warmly disposed towards me, and that you would consider my proposal of marriage, made in a cowardly fashion through your father—' he went on.
'Lord Sandford,' I interrupted, 'this is all my fault. I fear I have misled you. I like you very much – as a friend. And as for Rose, she is a treasure. But I do not want to marry anyone just now.'
Lord Sandford smiled ruefully, embarrassed. 'I take the blame for this entirely . . .' he said.
I shook my head. 'No. It is my fault. I have a lot of thinking to do. You see, I fear I have behaved very badly of late,' I said, and I couldn't stop the tears from springing to my eyes.
'Oh, dear Miss Musgrove,' said Lord Sandford. 'Do not berate yourself. You have not treated me badly—'
'Thank you, but it is another matter that troubles me,' I said; it did indeed seem as if I had a host of problems heaped upon me.
'I see. Can I help you with it, Miss Musgrove? I have quite a bit of experience in life. My wife was a young lady of around your age when we met. She confused me at first with her many ups and downs, but I came to know her well. She was quite lovely. Very similar in looks to you. And in height and gracefulness too . . .' he told me.
'It is kind of you to offer to help me. You see, I have been ill used by a young man whose affections I sought. And I took something for him which was most wrong of me. Do you think I can possibly make things right again?' I asked.
Lord Sandford nodded. 'I am sure you can, with honesty and integrity – which you do not lack. One transgression is not the end of the world, my dear,' he said kindly.
I smiled through my tears.
'Am I to assume that we can remain friends despite our misunderstanding?' he asked me.
'Yes, of course!' I cried.
He kissed my hand just as my father arrived in the garden.
'Sophie! Sandford! Do I hear wedding bells?' Papa asked, sounding hopeful.
'No, Musgrove, we are good friends, that is all, regrettably,' Lord Sandford told him.
My poor father looked confused but let the matter rest, and I excused myself while they took tea together in the garden. No doubt they were saying what an unfathomable creature I am.
Lucy and Lady Lennox arrived soon after lunch.
'We saw Lord Sandford's carriage here earlier when we came to call,' exclaimed Lucy, 'and we turned away lest we should be interrupting anything!'
'No, no. We have sorted everything out and we are good friends,' I explained.
'That is good news!' said Lucy, taking my arm and pulling me towards the garden. 'Because, dear Sophie, I have some other news for you,' she said. 'Not such good news.'
'What news do you speak of, Lucy? Tell me please!' I implored.
'Well, I'm afraid I have learned much about your Mr Stevens of late. And it comes on good authority from my father's banker, Thomas Coutts on The Strand,' Lucy whispered. 'By all accounts, Mr Stevens makes a habit of befriending wealthy young society beauties with sensitive natures, and extracting money or other favours from them. He uses good causes to persuade them to donate money, but he keeps the cash for himself, Sophie! This is how he finances his wealthy lifestyle. He is a con-man!'
My jaw dropped. 'But I was . . . You see, he said it was different . . . He was . . .' My voice trailed away as I finally realized that Marcus had indeed used me for his own ends, and that I had meant absolutely nothing to him all along.
'Mr Coutts says that Mr Stevens has used other ladies in this way – one being Mr Hughes's dear sister. But everyone avoids discussing his deeds for fear of scandal, you see,' said Lucy.
I shook my head in disbelief. I had ignored warnings from many people. From my father, from Mr Hughes, from Lucy – and from Lily too. I thought that I had known better than them all.
'Lucy, thank you for telling me the truth. It helps to dull the pain of rejection a little,' I said.
She hugged me. 'We both need some lessons in picking good men, don't we?' she said.
One morning soon after, Mrs Willow and I were enjoying a stroll through the park on our way to the Maison du Chocolat.
'What will you wear to the Almack's autumn ball, Sophie dear? We must think of such things. There isn't much time left!' fretted Mrs Willow. 'Oh, I'll wear something I have already,' I said, unable to muster much enthusiasm for social events since the theatre party debacle. I was also distracted by a cloud of litter flying around us in the wind.
'It's shameful!' observed Mrs Willow. 'All these pieces of paper. I expect it's one of those nasty leaflet infestations!'
I was curious and stooped to pick up one of the fluttering sheets. But as soon as I read it, my blood ran cold. It was about the slave trade and used information from my father's confidential documents. They even made mention of 'Lord Musgrove' directly. I had been waiting for this moment and praying it would not come. Marcus had betrayed me in so many ways, it hurt like a knife turning in my heart. But had I not betrayed my father, this current treachery would not have been possible. It was all my fault. I choked back tears.
'What's wrong, Sophie?' asked Mrs Willow, seeing my distress.
'I'm afraid I need to turn back. I feel faint . . . I must rest, Mrs Willow,' I said.
She looked concerned but I did not stop to explain. Stuffing a few of the leaflets into my reticule, I turned on my heel and headed for home. At that moment it seemed as though my whole life was over.
Lucy was waiting for me at Musgrove House.
'Have you seen the leaflets?' I hissed as we tried to shake off Mrs Willow and Lady Lennox.
'No, do show me!' said Lucy.
'Remember our escapade in the Palace of Westminster? Well, the activists have used the information Mr Stevens sold to them for these,' I told her, handing over one of the papers I had picked up. 'The problem is that they quote Papa word for word, so he will be found guilty of indiscretion at the very least. See what I have done to my poor father!' I wailed.
Lucy read through the leaflet, shaking her head as she did so. 'You poor lamb. Mr Stevens was a villain and no mistake,' she said.
I sobbed into my handkerchief, unable to hold back my misery any longer.
'Ssshhh, Sophie. There, there. We all make mistakes, dear,' said Lucy. 'We'll get through it.'
'I'm sorry, but I keep thinking of more and more harm that will come of this,' I sobbed. 'My mother will be devastated by my treachery!'
'But mothers understand all things, Sophie,' Lucy reassured me. 'You need to think of a plan of action. Come on, you're good at plans.'
At last my brain started to get to work on the problem. 'Well, I must confess it all to my father first and then make it up to him in whatever way I can,' I resolved.
'Good. Yes, that's an excellent start!' said Lucy encouragingly.
'Do you think it will damage his reputation terribly?' I asked.
'Maybe not. After all, he didn't sell the papers; they were stolen from him,' observed Lucy.
I winced as she reminded me of my deed with the word 'stolen'. The fact was that I had yet to face the music from Papa.
'At least we have the Almack's autumn ball soon!' said Lucy as cheerfully as possible as she left. But the ball was the last thing on my mind as I cuddled Dinky for comfort.
The next day I received a letter from my mother asking that I might join her
at the Daisy Park for the last stages of her confinement. She said that Estella was coming and that I should bring Harry too. Papa was to follow as soon as he could.
Mrs Willow and I made plans to leave the next day, but I was determined to tell my father the truth about the stolen papers before our departure.
I packed for the reunion with my mother with the heaviest heart imaginable. I was worried about her giving birth and equally worried about the difficult conversation I must have with Papa.
Chapter Twenty-one
As I prepared to leave Musgrove House, my father came to talk to me in my room.
'Sophie, I have something to tell you, but you must not concern your mother with it,' he began. 'You and I have formed a more grown-up bond of late, and I know you do not want to be sheltered from my political life, so I wish to tell you this. Some of my private government documents have been stolen and used for political propaganda. I have been most terribly compromised. I am shouldering the blame, and my head is on the chopping block, so to speak,' he said. 'It might be the end of my political career. The Prime Minister is furious with me.'
I knew that this was my opportunity to tell the truth. 'Papa,' I said, 'that is too terrible. But I have something to tell you too . . .' I looked away and took a deep breath. 'It was me, Papa. I took the papers to help those opposing the slave trade. I am so sorry. It was the most dreadful thing to do and I am terribly ashamed of myself. I didn't know the material would be used in this way, but I should have guessed. Can you ever forgive me? I know it is a dreadful thing to have done and I regret it more than I can say.'
My father looked aghast. He turned every shade of grey. 'My own Sophie? You did this? But how did you get the papers?' he asked.
'I stole your spare keys and went to your room at the Palace of Westminster,' I confessed.
My father held his head in his hands for what seemed like a very long time.
'It was as if I was different person, Papa. I am so filled with regret . . . Please forgive me,' I begged, breaking down in sobs. 'I cannot bear the idea that you will not forgive me.'
'Let your mother know nothing of this. Ever!' my father said, his voice full of emotion. 'She is delicate. If I were to lose her . . .' He seemed to choke on his words.
'Papa, I will not breathe a word of it – and for her sake, not mine,' I agreed.
'Now, I wish to be alone,' he said quietly as he rose to leave my room. 'I need time to think.'
I nodded and sank down on my bed, distraught. My father, the man I had so misunderstood, was actually filled with honour, taking the blame for the leaks, and concerned only for his wife's health. I was wretched with self-disgust.
He didn't speak to me again until I was in the carriage, ready to depart for the Cotswolds with Mrs Willow and Harry. Then he came running out to speak to me. 'Sophie. Before you go,' he said, 'I forgive you. We all make mistakes. But I need to know that you will never, ever do anything like this again. I could not overlook it a second time. Come – promise me, Sophie. We must not break your mother's heart with a feud between us,' he added.
I hugged him with all my might. 'Thank you, Papa – and I promise that I will never, ever let you down again,' I sobbed.
'What are you two going on about?' asked Harry.
Mrs Willow smiled. 'Well, isn't that nice?' she said, looking pleased that the differences between father and daughter seemed to have been resolved. And then she tactfully turned away to distract Harry with a game of I Spy.
When we arrived at the Daisy Park, the household was in a great flap. My mother was already in labour!
Estella was at Mama's bedside and Mrs Willow went in to assist. I was not allowed into the bedroom, so I tried to busy myself with some gardening chores while Harry darted about, trying to make a boat float on the lake and collecting insects in a glass jar.
When Harry and I returned to the house a few hours later, my mother was still in labour and I was overcome with worry. I tried listening at the door but the sounds I heard made me retreat hastily. My mother was a frail lady in her early forties. Could she possibly survive this terrible ordeal?
'Is Mama going to die?' asked Harry as we toyed with our scrambled eggs at tea time.
'No, Harry. She has the best medical care,' I told him, trying to sound reassuring. 'But it is a very slow affair, producing a baby. I'm sure it was the same when you were born, and when Estella and I were too. Try to think of other things, darling,' I said.
He did not look convinced. The poor boy had reached an age when he realized that not everything he was told was strictly true.
Eventually, as darkness fell, Mrs Willow came out into the hallway and called for me. 'Sophie! Come and meet your new baby sister!' she cried. 'And Harry too!'
We tiptoed eagerly into the room to see my mother cradling a tiny, perfect baby in her arms.
'Mama! You are well!' I exclaimed, and kissed the sleeping baby. 'She's quite beautiful! I love her!'
Harry looked on with a bemused expression. 'She's very nice indeed,' he said, 'but I won't come close until after my bath.'
'What shall we call her?' I asked.
'Your father and I like Constance. Connie for short,' Mama replied.
I stared and stared at Connie. I had never seen such an exquisite creature in all my life. She was plump and pink, with fair hair and violet-blue eyes. Her fingers and toes and ears looked so tiny.
'She's just like me!' declared Estella, who looked very worn out. She had seen enough of the birth to declare that she would be childless for life.
'No, she's not like you. She's just like me!' objected Harry.
'How can she be like you, Harry, when she's so sweet?' I teased. And Mama laughed merrily and her face grew young once more.
'Did we all make you feel so ill when we were being hatched, Mama?' I asked.
'Yes, only I was younger and stronger then. But every time has been worth it, when I consider the end results,' she replied.
We all felt as though it was our job to present our baby as favourably as possible to Papa, when he arrived the next day. We were all washed and smartly dressed as we sat with Mama and Constance, awaiting his arrival.
'I hope she doesn't cry when Papa first sees her. He thinks he makes all babies burst into tears!' said Harry as he stroked our darling little sister's tiny hand.
While we were waiting, little Rose Sandford came to visit with her nurse, Ginny. She was amazed and delighted with Connie, longing to hold her and push her in her carriage.
'Papa has a new friend!' Rose announced as I showed her the pretty new nursery set up at the Daisy Park. 'She is called Miss Adams, and she's very pretty! I think he loves her!'
I breathed a sigh of relief. 'How wonderful, Rose. It is nice to have special friends,' I told her.
'Can I whisper a secret to you?' asked Rose.
'Of course,' I replied and bent down to receive the message.
'Papa kissed Miss Adams once. They didn't know I was looking!' Rose told me.
I smiled. 'Best to keep that a secret, Rose, don't you think?' I said. And she nodded in a way that made me think others had already been told the secret too.
I was pleased to hear that Lord Sandford was happy. He was such a good man. At last it seemed as though some of the black clouds over me were lifting.
There was nothing that had ever depressed me quite so much as being a deceiver. As for Marcus, I had heard nothing from him since the ill-fated party at the King's Theatre. I supposed I was of no use to him now. In some moods, I wished he would write and be full of good wishes to me, but on the whole I thought that I was better off without him. Those who had said I was being led astray had been quite right. But the confusing thing was that I still desperately wanted to help stop the slave trade.
Rose and Ginny headed home and at last my father arrived at the Daisy Park. We ushered him into Mama's bedroom. He walked over to the bed and embraced her, and I am sure I saw tears of joy on his cheek as he looked at his new daughter.
<
br /> He was simply enchanted by Connie. I was a little jealous for a moment when I saw him fall in love with her, I confess! He held her in his arms and she cooed and gurgled happily.
Papa was very mindful of the fact that little Harry had lost his role of baby-in-residence. He took him riding the next day and they built a camp in the woods beside the house. We spent a couple of blissful weeks at the Daisy Park, enjoying getting to know the baby, and being a united family once more.
But by early September it seemed that the whole Musgrove family was ready to move back to the city again for the autumn Season. Estella wanted to come with us too.
'What do we do?' I heard Papa say to Mama. 'She is our child and she is not happy with her husband at Dovetail Hall. I say let her come to London and we will see if he chases her. Perhaps he can change his ways and correct his behaviour!'
So, to my delight, Estella came to London with us too.
Chapter Twenty-two
We arrived back at Musgrove House in the early autumn. The plums were ripe on the trees and the air had a little nip in the mornings and evenings. It was really too wonderful for words to be in the main family home with both my parents and my three siblings. I was still worried about my father's career, but at least I had no secrets from him now. My complete happiness was blighted only by these worries for Papa and my thoughts of Lily and how she was prospering.
I asked Hawkes for her address one morning, and as he wrote it down, we were disturbed by the sound of the doorbell.
I ran into the receiving room, tidying my hair and pinching my cheeks for colour. Hawkes announced the arrival of a visitor. Lucy had been to see Connie lately, so I knew it could not be her. In fact, Lucy and Lady Lennox had visited three times of late, so delighted were they with the new addition to our family.
'It's Mr Hughes,' said Hawkes.
He swept into our receiving room, looking quite sun-kissed from a trip to Greece on some sort of military business.
The Secrets of Sophia Musgrove Page 13