“Leticia was a widow with a young son when Charles met her. She was French you know. Married the Comte de Saville when she was young. After his death she came here visiting relatives. Charles met her and married her within a month.”
Sophia was silent. There was more here than Rodney was telling. Much more. “She and Charles were happy, I presume,” she probed finally, searching for the right words. “I mean, of course, they were pleased to have such a handsome son as Dominic.”
Shrugging, Rodney lowered his eyes. “Suppose so. Wasn’t that close to my brother at the time, Oxford and then on the town you know.”
She studied his downcast face for a moment before standing and moving to the empty fireplace, staring at it moodily for several minutes. Making her decision, she turned back to him. “I hope I do not speak too frankly when I say that since we have met again I feel that, this time, we may become even closer.”
“It is my fondest hope,” Rodney replied softly, for an instant looking nearly as young as he had twenty years ago.
Going back to the settee, Sophia sank down beside him. “Then I wish to know about Dominic and his mother. Am I being too forward, my dear?”
Grasping her hand, Rodney studied her long, thin fingers, his head bowed. “It is not my place to tell, Sophia, since I do not know it all.”
“I have grown very fond of Dominic and would help if I could. Perhaps you could tell me what you do know,” Sophia ventured.
“Yes. Of course.” His voice firm, Rodney looked at her with great seriousness narrowing his pale blue eyes. “Leticia’s beauty hid her true nature from all of us. If you had seen her, you would understand. She cajoled everyone with her radiant smile and black flashing eyes. She had that French vitality that sparkles and draws you to its flame … But after she produced an heir, she locked her bedroom door against Charles.”
Rodney stopped, but Sophia tightened her grasp on his fingers urging him on. “What a deplorable marriage in which to rear children! But what of Leticia’s relationship with Dominic and Jules?”
“She had very little time for Dominic, although for some reason he adored her. She devoted all her time and energy to her own comforts and those of Jules. Dominic loved his brother. But I always felt he was hurt that Leticia seemed to love Jules more than him.” Rodney shook his head, squeezing her hands a bit tighter. “Not Jules’s fault. It was Leticia who was possessive of him, almost unnaturally so. She called him her ‘little count.’ Perhaps because he is the image of his late father. She would always compare Charles to Jules’s father … and her other lovers.”
“Well,” Sophia stated matter-of-factly, “It is not unknown in the ton for ladies to take lovers.”
“Sophia, you don’t understand! She flaunted her affairs in front of Charles. No one was safe from her. Even I…” Rodney looked away, his chubby cheeks crimson.
“Oh, no, Rod!” Sophia moved closer to him, placing her hand over their clenched fingers, trying desperately to keep the shock out of her voice.
She obviously failed, for Rodney’s head shot up, his pale blue eyes wide. “Good God, Sophia, I didn’t … I mean .… there she was stark naked in my bed … didn’t know she was there … ran all the way to the stables and fled to London. Had the devil’s own time explaining my abrupt departure to the duke.”
Sophia was surprised at the relief she felt at Rodney’s confession and at the growing affection he inspired. But she would consider that later. Now she must concentrate on Dominic.
“If Dominic was devoted to his mother, when did he turn against her? When he grew older and saw what kind of person she was?”
“No … it was not until after the accident that he saw her for what she had been.”
Sophia’s insides coiled with fear when she saw the look of pain and dread on Rodney’s face, but she forced him on. “Tell me about the accident.” “Never been fully explained,” he began, his voice sinking to a shadow of its former self. “Leticia was shot by my brother Charles in a drunken rage. Jules was wounded. No one knows how. Then … then Charles … Charles turned the pistol on himself. Dominic was there, but unable to stop it.”
The day had barely edged into evening when Sophia quietly entered the blue bedchamber next to her niece’s. A large four-poster dominated the panels of carved oak painted pale blue and white, and the delicate furnishings upholstered in striped silk placed about the room. Juliana sat on one fragile chair pulled close to the bed.
She was watching the gentle rhythm of Ben’s breathing, his thin chest rising and falling beneath the fine blue cover. Lifting one of his hands that lay palm up, she cupped it against her cheek for a moment before carefully resting it back on the quilt.
Suddenly she looked around and Sophia could see the sheen of tears on her cheeks.
“The fever has broken,” she whispered softly.
Sophia stood beside the bed watching Ben, his freckles and spots so intermingled it was difficult in the candlelight to tell where one began and the other ended. Nodding her head, she placed a large vase of lavender and pinks upon the nightstand. “He’ll be fine now, my dear. But we will be nursing you if you do not eat something. Come with me now. Cook has prepared a light supper for us.”
Juliana rang for her dresser, Maitland, to sit with young Ben, leaving careful instructions that she be called if the boy woke. Then she asked Smithers to send word to the stables that Ben was, at last, out of danger.
Sophia and Juliana entered the informal dining room set with two places, and steaming serving dishes already laid out along the oak sideboard so they could serve themselves just as Sophia had ordered. The warmth from a small fire mingled with the scent of roses.
Juliana sank into a chair stroking a rose petal with a long, thin finger. “More flowers, Aunt Sophia?”
Sophia placed a crest-embossed china plate piled with breast of chicken poached in cream, asparagus, and small carrots in front of her weary niece before going back for her own.
“Dominic sent several bouquets. There are violets in our bedrooms and a gardenia basket in the front parlor. He also sent a basket of strawberries and a pail of fresh cream for our young patient.”
A slight frown creased Juliana’s brow. “How did Dominic know about Ben? Smithers was told to send away all visitors.”
“Smithers is a law unto himself as you very well know. He admitted Rodney and Dominic this morning, and as I happened to be in the upstairs hall I spoke to them briefly. Obviously Dominic felt flowers and fruit would brighten the sickroom.”
“Very generous,” Juliana said thoughtfully. “He has a way of surprising one, doesn’t he? One moment the dashing knight-errant rescuing us. The next a distant stranger, and now this kindness.”
An aching tenderness swelled in Sophia’s breast at the tired, wistful smile on Juliana’s drawn face. She wanted so much for her to be happy! She had begun to think she had found Juliana’s ideal man until this morning. “A way of surprising one?” Oh, yes, Dominic could do that, indeed! She did not tell her niece that with the dozens of flowers, the fruit and the cream, there had been a note. A bold sprawl in black ink saying simply, “Forgive me.”
One week later, Sophia caught sight of the tail end of a nightshirt disappearing up the back staircase. “Ben, what are you doing out of your bedchamber!”
“It be for Miss Juliana,” Ben replied quickly, coming back down the steps. “Scones and tea from Cook. See.”
Sophia examined the neat tray that Cook had obviously prepared for him. “Juliana would never have sent you. Why didn’t she ring for a maid?”
“Fell asleep whiles readin’ me a story. Looks poorly she does. Thought’t might make her feel better. Did it meself,” he said proudly.
Sighing, Sophia admitted she was much too lax with the servants, but Ben’s smiling face flushed with fading measles made her stroke his tousled hair.
“That was very thoughtful. But you must stay in bed and get well. Then Miss Juliana will no longer look poorly. Go on now.”
Hurrying from the back hallway, her mind occupied with Juliana, she nearly collided with Smithers.
“Madam, you have a visitor in the front parlor.” Looking down his long nose at her, Sophia self-consciously straightened the bow of her cap.
“Thank you, Smithers.” Deciding she really must take him in hand, she lifted her chin and gave him a frosty stare. “I trust our visitor has a name.”
He sniffed. “It is teatime, so naturally your visitor is Lord Rodney Crawford.”
Sophia found Rodney in the wing chair before the fireplace. He rose when she entered, raising her hand to his lips.
“Sophia, my dear, what is troubling you? Has the boy taken a turn for the worse?” he asked, leading her to the settee and settling in beside her.
“Rodney, you are so kind to be concerned. Ben is making fine progress. It is Juliana who worries me.”
“Never say she’s come down with measles!”
The look of distress on his chubby features brought a great rush of affection into Sophia’s breast. Yes, Rodney would do just fine.
“No, no, it is not her health. It is my plan. How can it work if she never leaves the house?”
Confusion wrinkled his brow. “Don’t quite see…”
“Rodney, dear, I tell you this in great confidence,” she said gently and was rewarded with a worshipful smile. She leaned over the teapot and carefully added two spoonfuls of liquid from a small bottle to Rodney’s teacup before handing it to him. “As you know Juliana was widowed six years ago and has remained at Wentworth Park caring for her brother. For some time I have been most concerned about her future. But until recently I could see no way through my dilemma. Then Juliana gave me my answer. She became concerned that George was not enjoying life so he should become part of the ton. Then she decided it was time she found a comfortable widower with children and let George get on with his life. That is when I hatched my plan.”
Raising his quizzing glass, Rodney peered closely at her. “Sophia, ‘fraid I’m still a bit vague. What are we talking about?”
“Don’t you see, Rodney. I conceived the plan to come to London to find her widower, thereby forcing George into the city and into the ton. But not for an instant did I intend for Juliana to settle for a stuffy widower with a brood of children. No! She must have someone like Dominic.” Encountering his shocked stare, she patted his hand again. “Not Dominic precisely. Someone like Dominic. It is my fondest wish to see my sweet Juliana happily settled.”
Lacing his fingers with hers, Rodney gazed at her solemnly. “If it is your wish, then it is also mine, Sophia dear.”
There was a discreet knock at the door. Smithers entered, his usually impassive face twisted with disgust.
“Sorry to disturb you, madam. The housekeeper needs your assistance downstairs.”
“Now, Smithers? Whatever is the problem?”
“Something about turning a parlor maid off without a character. Mrs. Nelson needs your approval.” His rigid stance portrayed his dislike of airing staff problems in front of Lord Rodney.
Rodney cleared his throat. “Um, I believe I’ll go now, Sophia.” He rose and executed a portly bow. “Perhaps I’ll be able to do something, um, about our previous conversation.”
Sophia dimpled up at him. “I knew I could rely on you.”
As Dominic turned onto the street, someone was walking away from Juliana’s town house. Suddenly the man waved his walking stick and bellowed, “Dominic. Dominic Crawford!”
“Blast!” Dominic muttered under his breath, recognizing his Uncle Rodney waving at him frantically. After his childish outburst at Sophia, he had not intruded upon her with his presence, but it had become his habit to drive his high-perch phaeton past Wentworth House in the afternoon. It was unfortunate that today he had been caught.
“Dominic, what luck! Need a word with you, my boy.”
With a nod from Dominic, his tiger jumped down to assist Rodney onto the high seat. “How is Sophia? And the boy, Ben?” Dominic asked carefully.
“Fine. Fine. It is Juliana that…”
“Juliana!” His horses shied and he relaxed his tense grip on the reins as they trotted away. “She isn’t ill?”
“No, no. Fine in that way. But Sophia is concerned that she ain’t found a husband.”
Dominic became aware of strange stirrings in his chest. “I wasn’t aware Juliana was hanging out for a husband.”
“She might not be keen on it. But Sophia’s fondest wish is to find her a dashing husband. You for instance.”
Permitting himself the smallest of smiles, Dominic glanced at his uncle. “I’m sure Sophia did not suggest me for this honor.”
“Well, not precisely you. Someone like you. Must find a way to help Sophia. Do anything for the woman, Dominic. Dashed if I wouldn’t … Just let me off here at White’s.”
Tossing the reins to his tiger, Dominic jumped down and assisted Rodney to the cobblestones. “Coming in are you, Dominic? Be thinking about likely candidates, will you, my boy? Mean a lot to me.”
Leaving his uncle in the card room, Dominic opened the heavy doors to the library. The quietness of the room settled over him, and several of the older members glanced up from their deep wing chairs as he made his way to a desk. At a wave of his hand a servant brought paper, pen, and ink pot. He must do this quickly before he changed his mind. He knew how to help Sophia achieve her goal and this was the first step.
Quickly he penned a note and addressed it to Mrs. Juliana Grenville. Before he could change his mind, he gave it to the waiting servant with delivery instructions.
Sprawling back against the hard chair, he stared at nothing, letting himself remember those days at the inn when he had first realized Sophia was interested in eligible parties. He had found it amusing then. But that had been before he had discovered the only woman he had ever wanted and decided he could never have her. Now he would help find someone truly worthy of her. Someone as fine and decent as Will Grenville.
Three days later a scrawny maid in a lacy, bibless apron admitted Juliana to the front parlor where Sophia sat in front of a hot fire in the carved marble fireplace. The heat felt welcome to Juliana, for she could never seem to stay warm these days after her long, chilly vigil beside Ben’s bed.
“Did you notice the family resemblance between our new parlor maid and Smithers?” Aunt Sophia remarked when she entered. “Bella is his first cousin twice removed. He promoted her from scullery maid.”
Juliana laughed aloud for the first time in days because, with her rawboned hands and long chin, Bella did bear a striking resemblance to Julius, the one puppy her late papa had insisted on keeping from the last litter Claudius had sired. She knew Aunt Sophia had meant to make her relax and she had succeeded admirably.
This afternoon her aunt was clad in a jonquil frock with puffed sleeves that showed off her nicely rounded shoulders. With her dark hair pulled up in a yellow ribbon and small curls framing her face she looked younger than her thirty-nine years.
“Are you going out, Aunt Sophia?” Juliana asked, reclining on the settee.
“Yes. Rodney is taking me driving in the park just as he has every day this week,” her aunt replied with a self-satisfied air, before turning a stern gray eye on her niece. “It certainly wouldn’t hurt you to get some fresh air. Young Ben has been raising havoc in the kitchen for days. Even his father has ordered him back to his own quarters, but still you hover over him. The least you could do is accept Dominic’s kind invitation to go for a short ride. You know you miss your horses dreadfully.”
“Aunt Sophia.”
“Don’t tell me!” Aunt Sophia held up her hand to protest her niece’s confidences. “What you do next to put poor Domin
ic in his place, I’d rather not know. He was goodness itself when Ben was sick. Sending fresh fruit every day and keeping the house full of flowers. But if you still harbor these absurd feelings of persecution, I want to hear none of them!” She sighed deeply, shaking her head. “Of course, you may be correct and I wrong. As your chaperon I should, perhaps, be encouraging you to stay away from such a rake.”
Surprise widened Juliana’s eyes. “Aunt Sophia, are you saying that Dominic is someone I should be protected from? If so, why do you wish me to ride with him?”
“Of course, you don’t need to be protected from Dominic! Even though several ladies of the ton have made morning calls for the express purpose of informing me that Dominic is a rakehell. However, I, as you very well know, am an excellent judge of character.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Believe me, my dear, if Dominic ever paid the slightest degree of attention to any one of their daughters, the tattle mongers would be in raptures, for he really is quite wonderful.”
“You are right, Aunt Sophia, Dominic is … has been wonderful since Ben’s illness. I was foolish to say such things the night of the ball. Obviously I misjudged him. I will ride with him today.”
Sophia gasped, nearly choking on a bonbon she had just popped into her mouth.
“Well, it is the least I can do,” Juliana remarked, raising her chin in defense. “I have had both Freddie and Lord Edgemont to tea this week. It hardly seems fair to exclude Dominic when he has been so kind.”
“Don’t bristle at me, love. I couldn’t agree more.” Bella came in bearing tea, plain biscuits, and small plates of paper-thin sandwiches topped with watercress.
Juliana stared at the frugal fare. “Surely you aren’t going to serve Lord Rodney this!”
“Of course. You have probably not noticed, but Rodney has already dropped over half a stone. Is that not marvelous? I hope he can continue to make such excellent progress without his elixir. It is nearly all gone.”
“You have been giving his lordship Mrs. Forbes’s potion!”
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