by Jo Goodman
Cara did not miss the faint quiver of Sophie's chin or the brightening of her eyes. Neither of these things was much improved by Sophie biting on her lower lip or blinking rapidly. Cara sighed. "I am making a muddle of it. You are feeling far worse than when I started, and I am deeply sorry for that, Lady Sophia. I wish I might apologize for my brother as well, but I have no notion why he is being so perfectly disagreeable. I am out of sorts with him, you know, and am of a mind to write to him directly and tell him so."
"Pray, do not apologize to me on any account." Sophie's determined smile was weakened by its watery nature. "I will never be able to repay your many kindnesses. My presence here is proof of the deep affection you bear your brother, and I would not see you even mildly annoyed with him. I am quite certain he is blameless."
"Gabriel is never blamed," Cara said wryly. "And he is always responsible." She saw Sophie's confusion and spoke to ease it. "Never mind. It is unimportant. You only need know that he is horribly indulged by my mother and me and that we are unlikely to change in our attitude, no matter how aggrieved we are made by him." Cara poked her finger at the paper. "This is not his doing, however, and I am depending on your good sense to know that."
"I do," Sophie assured her. Even in light of Eastlyn's insistence that she should marry him, Sophie was able to acquit him of this particular effort. "But how can you be so certain?"
"It is simple, really. A true announcement would not fail to give your names. That is done for the paper's protection. It improves circulation, I suspect, giving rise as it does to indecent speculation among the ton. No one approves of it publicly, of course, but privately this sort of gossip is quite warmly greeted." She scanned the particulars again. "The announcement is attributable to no one, which likely means it was merely the subject of discussion among the guests at this recital rather than a formal statement of intent. Further, my mother would be present at such an announcement, and I know from her correspondence that she has answered no invitations for a musicale. My brother does not care a whit for sopranos and has never counted himself as a friend of Lord Barlough, so it is unlikely that he was present at this recital. More to the point, there is no mention of any altercation or gloves being dropped, and I can assure you that had this engagement been discussed in any gathering save for Gabriel's family and closest friends, someone would have been called upon to make amends for it."
Sophie touched her fingers to her chin, afraid she was gaping at her hostess. She knew of at least one time Eastlyn had settled a dispute with pistols, had even called him a murderer for it, but it had taken place many years ago, and she did not really think of him in that way in spite of her harsh pronouncement to the contrary. "He told me he used to regularly thrash the other boys at Hambrick, but you cannot mean he would serve someone a facer in so public a setting."
Cara gave Sophie a sidelong glance, complete with one perfectly arched eyebrow. She looked so much like her brother in that moment that Sophie felt her insides twist curiously. "He has always been restrained with me," Sophie said. "Even when I have sorely abused his charity."
"Yes," Cara said. "That is very much like him also." Her face softened. "You are right, though. He would not serve someone a facer at a public recital. I am remembering the quickly riled boy he was and forgetting the man he has become. It is more likely that he would make a challenge to join him at that gentlemen's boxing salon that he frequents." Cara picked up the paper and turned it over so it would not give her further offense. "The fact remains he would not permit this rumor to gain support if he was in hearing of it. I hope you will forgive my blunt speaking, but this has Mrs. Sawyer's fine prints all over it."
Sophie frowned. She was so certain of Tremont's or Harold's hand in the matter it didn't occur that the responsibility might lie elsewhere. "Mrs. Sawyer?" she asked. The name meant nothing to her until she witnessed Cara's discomfort. "Oh. You are speaking of your brother's mistress."
"She is no longer his mistress," Cara said firmly. "And it gives me great pain to speak of her at all. I do not make my opinion known to Gabriel on matters of this nature—he is unmarried and does as many of his set do—but I have had reservations regarding his choice of this paramour. I have never met her, of course, so I am guilty of precisely the same speculation I despise in others. Gabriel is my brother, however, so what am I to do when I hear that she is like a cold not easily shaken?"
When Sophie's eyes brightened this time it was because she was amused, not alarmed. She discovered a measure of her appetite had returned, and she spread a dollop of strawberry jam on her toast as Cara continued.
"I can appreciate that she would not want to be cast aside, but to have the effrontery to think that Gabriel would marry her, that is completely objectionable. That is why she left him, you know, because he would not be brought around to marriage. Oh, I know such things are done on occasion, but they cause such heartache for the families and rarely turn out well for the parties involved. Gabriel would not do it. He would not let his heart become engaged to a woman so well known for her avarice."
"Perhaps he was unaware of her rapacious nature."
"Do you really think my brother is so lacking in intelligence that he could not see such a thing for himself?" She did not give Sophie opportunity to answer what was a strictly rhetorical question. "More likely he was amused by it. He is invariably amused by things the rest of us find distasteful. That is not to say he finds it tolerable, only diverting after a fashion. It is my opinion that he had it set very well in his mind what she was and was going to end their arrangement soon. If Mrs. Sawyer is as shrewd as she is purported to be, she would have sensed this and acted accordingly."
"You are not at all sympathetic toward her?" asked Sophie. "Her situation is unenviable."
"Her situation is of her own making, but it is perhaps a flaw in my character that I cannot be charitable."
No, Sophie thought, it was another measure of how much Cara loved her brother. She would write to Eastlyn herself, she decided, this very afternoon, and let him know he did not have to travel to his sister's home to acquit himself of wrongdoing. Unlike Cara, Sophie was not at all distressed when East failed to arrive at Chipping Campden but had allowed his letter to speak for him.
He had further acquitted himself by sending a timely message by cornier that something had occurred requiring his attention in London. In this manner he hoped to put a period to his sister's worry. It did not, however, keep Cara from speculating on the nature of his London business, and she fretted for several days until her husband requested that she cease her musings, or at least make them silent ones. His interference was timely because Sophie had been on the verge of making a full confession for her part in provoking Eastlyn to go. She doubted that Cara would have been so charitable toward her if she knew the truth.
If Cara could understand that Mrs. Sawyer deeply desired marriage to her brother, how would she ever comprehend that Sophie did not?
* * *
The colonel rolled his wheelchair around so he no longer faced the fireplace. He tapped his spectacles until they rested low on his nose and treated Eastlyn to a long and level look over the gold rims. "You have nothing else for me?" he asked. "You have spent more months than I care to contemplate on this enterprise."
"Five," East said. "The opposition will not be moved."
The colonel shook his head. "Five months. As long as that? I wish you had not made it so clear."
"You knew." He glanced at the tall clock standing in the corner of West's study. "You can probably make an accounting of the days and the hours."
"Very nearly." Blackwood was not smiling. "Is this because of Tremont?"
"Yes. He is gaining a considerable following. I had Helmsley's agreement to support the scheme; then he changed his mind. Said he was convinced that Tremont is in the right of things."
"What does Helmsley want?"
"A position in the Foreign Office. A clear path to becoming prime minister."
"The hell yo
u say."
"I do say."
The colonel was silent. It seemed to him that Eastlyn had not been sleeping of late, and if it was true, it could not be entirely blamed on this assignment. Blackwood knew his work had been tireless and that he had been constrained by the need for secrecy, but it was the sort of thing that East usually thrived on. It challenged his thinking, his temper, his arguments, and his abilities. He would not give it up easily, and the colonel debated whether he should even ask. It could not hurt to change the subject. "You have talked to West?"
Eastlyn nodded. "He told me I could find you here."
"I was referring to the particulars about his father's death. Does he seem all of a piece to you?"
"Quite. I expect you will make your own assessment." Eastlyn saw the colonel's faint nod. "We were together at the club last evening. North was also there. And Southerton as well. I suppose it was our own version of a wake, save that there were no tributes made to the late Duke of Westphal. He shall remain unlamented, though I must say that West was more tolerant of his father's shortcomings than the rest of us. He has greater concerns about inheriting the title and property. It surpasses all understanding that the old duke would legitimize West's birth now."
Outside a cold, dreary November rain struck the windows. East turned in the direction of the sound, but there was little that could be seen of the street beyond. Darkness fell very early now, and the street lamps added only the most tenuous light, flickering wildly as though they might be extinguished at any moment.
It was a fitting sort of day to see the Duke of Westphal put to rest. The small gathering of mourners in West's London home was there because they were acquainted with Mr. Evan Marchman, not because they grieved for the passing of the man who had sired him. East's mother and father had come as had Southerton's parents. Even the Dowager Countess of Northam had been present for a time, amusing them by insisting that she was still out of sorts with West for breaking her beautiful son's nose twenty years earlier. No one could convince her that her son's countenance was much improved for it.
A smile edged East's mouth. The memory was a good one.
The colonel noted the change in East and was encouraged. "That is something, at least. You are noticeably lacking in humor these days."
"I can rouse myself to it."
"For your friends, I suspect."
East did not deny it.
"Is it Lady Sophia?"
"I'm not sure of your meaning."
"I think that is not true," the colonel said bluntly. "But I will explain nonetheless. I am asking if Lady Sophia has been on your mind of late and if her presence there might explain your lack of humor as well as your lack of success with the Company's proposal."
Eastlyn said carefully, "It is better that we do not discuss Lady Sophia, Colonel. As for the proposal, I shall have to redouble my efforts."
Blackwood removed his spectacles and carefully folded the stems. It was all done in aid of giving him time to think and form a reply. He might very well lose East if he pressed too hard, yet he might lose him if he did nothing at all. "I have always admired your discretion, East. Indeed, it is a quality that has made you a particular favorite of mine for assignments such as the one I gave you in June. I believe I would trust you with anything. I suppose it has never occurred to me that you would not extend the same trust to me. If it helps, I will tell you that I have learned some things about Lady Sophia on my own. You would not be talking out of school."
East could have shut the door on further conversation at that moment. He did not. "What you know can be of little import. I have not seen Lady Sophia since I was at Tremont Park."
"In September. Late in the month as I recall from your report."
"Yes."
"She has not been in London since then," the colonel said. "Tremont has been back, of course, but she has not."
"That signifies nothing. She has never been one for gadding about in society. She prefers the country."
"Which brings me to one of the rather surprising things I learned. She is not at Tremont Park."
"Then you must be mistaken that she is not in London. I'm certain if you present yourself at Number Fourteen Bowden Street, you will find her."
The colonel shook his head. "No, I will not. Lady Dunsmore has hired a governess for her children. That is the rather awkward and humbling position previously occupied by Lady Sophia, I believe. They made good use of her as their poor relation. It is not surprising that she would not return there when she made her escape from the Park."
Blackwood was not deterred by East's stubborn silence. "It is no exaggeration to say that she has fled. That is the word the family uses among themselves to describe her absence. You know as well as I that there has been no public disclosure that she is missing."
Eastlyn sat up straighter in his chair. There was only one way the colonel could know particulars about conversations in Sophie's family. "The Dunsmore governess is in your employ."
"Let us say that she has been remunerated for her services." He met East's censure directly. "You left me with no choice. I did nothing at all in the beginning, precisely as you asked. I made no inquiries about Lady Sophia's health after you met with her and then took ill. I kept my own counsel when it seemed to me you were distracted from your purpose with Helmsley and Barlough because you wanted to go to Tremont Park. It did not escape my notice that it was around that time that Lady Sophia was rumored to be the intended of Mr. George Heath, though by all accounts it was a short-lived engagement.
"Soon after you returned from the Park there was that unfortunate business in the Gazette to further occupy you. Between your mistress and your fiancée, it seemed to me that you had none of the women in your life in hand. You can take me to task for it, but I have no regrets for doing as I did. These last months I have watched you apply yourself as hard as you ever have to the difficult matter of the settlement. Redoubling your efforts can make no difference when you are merely standing in place. I think you must settle with Lady Sophia, East. It occurs to me that she did not take her leave of Tremont Park without your help. If the same notion has occurred to Tremont, then one begins to comprehend why he thinks he and his followers can make such outrageous demands."
Blackwood regarded Eastlyn pointedly. "Make it right."
East had never been upbraided by the colonel before, but then, he thought, he had never presented him with cause. "The notion that I helped Lady Sophia has occurred to Tremont," he said quietly, "because I informed him of it. I conceived the idea, not Sophie. I cannot even say that I was unaware that my actions would jeopardize my ability to negotiate with Tremont; I can only say that it was of lesser importance than seeing Sophie free of his influence."
"I see." The colonel returned his spectacles to his face. "Then she was being ill-used by her cousin."
"Yes. That he wanted to arrange an advantageous marriage for her was the least of the problems. All the advantages must be his. She did very well to hold her own for so long."
Blackwood adopted his most considering pose, cupping his chin and rubbing the underside of his jaw with his thumb. "I admit to some astonishment that you did not make her an offer of marriage. That is what I anticipated you would do. Perhaps you will not credit it, but I made a wager with myself to that effect."
"Then you must reward yourself for your foresight."
The colonel's hand dropped away from his face as his chin came up. "How is that again?"
"I made the offer. She refused me." It was not often that Eastlyn saw Blackwood's features truly bearing the stamp of surprise. That expression was nearly worth what it cost East in pride to make the admission. "I see you did not anticipate such an end as that."
"No. No, I could not. I recall there was some discussion that she was likely to be more successful making you a pigeon than a happy man, but I thought you were joking. She truly said it in response to your offer?"
"It was indeed her answer, though you will understand that I take no pl
easure in being reminded of it. You see that she was most sincere in her refusal."
"Bloody hell."
"Yes, well, it was not as if she hadn't prepared me." Eastlyn hesitated a moment, uncertain that he wanted to say more, but then decided that he must. His self-imposed silence was crushing him. "I asked her a second time after she was gone from Tremont Park. She would not have me then either."
Blackwood wrestled with the singular sensation of being offended on Eastlyn's behalf. "She cannot be a woman of sound judgment. What can be her reasons for refusing you?" He waved one hand dismissively when East began to speak. "Oh, and do not tell me that she remains convinced you are a gambler, a sot, and a murderer. Even if it were true, a woman looking to remove herself from Tremont's influence cannot have so many scruples."
"As much as I prefer your defense of me to your reproachment, I do not want you to think poorly of Lady Sophia. She is acting as she believes she must, and in that regard she has never wavered. I have called her unreasonable, but it is an unfair appraisal. It is truer that I cannot comprehend her reasoning."
Blackwood regarded East steadily. When he spoke it was with great conviction. "You have always been the one among your friends to act first in righting some wrong, even when that action was most precipitous. You were well named the tinker, East, and now it seems to me that you must apply yourself to repairing this situation."
East accepted the colonel's assessment, for it was also his own. "I have given it a great deal of thought as to how it can be managed. You might know that Mrs. Sawyer is now in an arrangement with Dunsmore. She would not agree to his protection, even to jab at me, if she did not think he could keep her well. I believe there has been an infusion of money in the Colley family, or at least the expectation of such. I think I must find the source of it. It is key to negotiating with Tremont."
"You are speaking of your assignment."
"Yes."
Blackwood's smile was surprisingly gentle, even a trifle rueful. "I was not. Go to Lady Sophia, East. Speak to her, for it is clear to me that your own feelings are engaged. You cannot do more for me than you already have without first settling matters with her. You are resourceful. Find a way to gain her agreement if that is what you desire." The colonel's voice grew quieter still, and his final words were offered with some reluctance. "Barring that, you must find a way to forget her."