An Irresistible Temptation
Page 17
She felt her mother hesitate and then walk away. Sophie closed her eyes and lingered another few minutes at the piano, fortifying herself before following to the parlor. Only her mother and her youngest sister, Rose, were there.
“Are you all right?” her mother asked, as Sophie hesitated by the side board to pour herself a cup of tea.
“Yes, Mama.”
“Well, you look peaked,” Rose said, scooting over on the velvet divan and patting the space beside her in invitation to her sister. “But the music was beautiful. I wish I could do that.”
They both smiled, knowing that Rose didn’t have the patience to practice music or needlepoint or drawing, for that matter. The fairer arts were not her forte.
“Where’s Reed?” Sophie was sitting with her sister and hoping her big brother was intending to visit soon. My goodness! How I must have matured if I want him to lecture me and tell me what to do. But as she sipped her tea, she realized that she did, in fact, want exactly that.
“Tell me why you had me show Mr. Wainright the door, dear, especially after he went such a long way to find you and bring you home.”
“Oh, we’ve spent so much time in each other’s company,” Sophie professed. “I want to have you two to myself.”
Her mother and Rose exchanged glances.
“That doesn’t sound good,” Rose said, “I mean, not if you’re going to marry the man. Shouldn’t you feel as comfy with him, like family, as you do with us?”
“Mm,” Sophie agreed, noncommittally.
“Sophie,” her mother said, drawing out her name in query. “You traveled across the entire country alone with ‘the man,’ as your sister calls him. Do you intend to marry him, or not?”
Sophie sighed. “First of all, Mama, we were not alone, not even for an instant. I have any number of passengers who can attest to that. Secondly, I don’t know. I mean, I do know, but no one will like my answer, particularly Philip, so I shall keep it to myself at present.”
She spent a long moment choosing a biscuit from the tray on the low table in front of her, to keep from viewing what she was sure was her mother’s stricken expression. Sophie ate it in silence and then leaned back.
“Let me tell you all about San Francisco and then Martha can draw me a bath.” Sophie launched into her remembrances, trying to make them see the city through her eyes. The ingenious cable cars, the steep hills all leading to the beautiful bay, and the people she’d met. She left out Riley, of course, uncertain whether she could even mention him without her emotions showing through.
“I think I want to see it for myself,” Rose said, her eyes bright and wistful.
“Don’t you get any ideas, young lady. I have one daughter back and I don’t intend to lose another just yet.” Her mother stood up. “Come on, Sophie, have a bath and a rest. Maybe Reed will come for dinner with his family.”
As it turned out, he didn’t. The next morning, Sophie had to bear the interrogation of her sister and mother again until her older sister Elise arrived with her two children and started the whole questioning once more. Soon, they knew of her job in the bar and her accident. It helped allay their initial alarm that her hand now appeared unblemished.
Whenever possible, Sophie escaped to her piano and wondered how she could ever leave it again. She was playing after lunch, lost in Mendelssohn’s Concerto No. 2 with all its sweetness and sadness when, a hand touched her shoulder.
“Reed,” she exclaimed, jumping up to hug him. He lifted her and swung her in a circle.
He searched her face with his intelligent, dark blue eyes and she moved a lock of hair, as black as her own, off his forehead. He smiled. “I have missed you, dear sister.”
“And I, too,” she murmured. She might cry, so happy was she to be in his comforting arms. Her brother always understood her heart and made everything seem better. And after her father passed away, he was the only male whose arms she could relax in whom she knew had no interest in her other than pure familial love. He was the one who made sure she went to Rome to study music.
“I would have come yesterday, but Emory had a runny nose and Charlotte didn’t want to take him out of the house. She’ll be by tomorrow to see you.”
Secretly, Sophie was glad that it was Reed alone. She loved Charlotte like a sister, but, at this moment, she had enough of those.
Stepping away from him, she fixed Reed with a serious gaze. “I need to talk to you.”
“Uh-oh. It must be serious if you want to confide in me.”
“Well, it’s certainly something I would have spoken with Father about.” She ran her hand over the keys one more time and then closed the cover. She took his arm and they went to her favorite reading place, a window seat overlooking the back garden.
Sitting side-by-side, Sophie leaned against him, breathing in his familiar scent of sandalwood.
“I don’t think I want to live here.”
“You don’t mean here in Mother’s house, do you? You mean in Boston?”
“Correct.” Sophie twiddled her skirt with her fingers.
“I see.” He was quiet a moment. “And what of Mr. Wainright? I take it you don’t want to marry him, either.”
Bless Reed’s heart, he was so astute. “Correct.”
“Then why in blue blazes did you let him bring you over three thousand miles?”
She jumped at his tone, but had to defend herself.
“I didn’t ask him to come looking for me in California. I was taken by surprise. And I had . . . I had other issues with which to contend.”
He took her right hand in his and carefully examined it. “Yes, Mother let me know about the injury. You were very lucky. You should have sent me a telegram.”
“I would have been brought back here straightaway if I had.”
“True,” he said, “and rightly so.”
Sophie bit her lower lip. Her hand injury seemed far less important now than the emotional turmoil she felt.
Reed peered into her solemn face. “So, what’s wrong between you and Mr. Wainright? You used to be smitten with him. I remember your long face when he went to Oxford.”
“You know that electric feeling between you and Charlotte?”
He stiffened and she laughed. “I know that you don’t like to discuss your personal life, but Charlotte told me once how every time you look at her, she feels like . . . well, like she is sizzling.”
A slow smiled spread across his handsome visage. “She said that?”
“See, even your reaction speaks volumes. I know you can’t wait to leave me and get back to your wife’s side and kiss her passionately.”
“Sophie!”
“Well, true or not?”
“True,” he admitted, “but we were supposed to be talking about you.”
“I want that feeling, that sizzle.”
Reed coughed, clearly unsure of his footing with this delicate topic. “And you don’t think you feel ‘that sizzle’ with Mr. Wainright?”
“I know I don’t. I’ve felt it—” she broke off. She had no intention of telling him about Riley, at least, not everything. After all, that was now over and done with. But the words had already slipped out, and Reed, being Reed, was not only her older brother but the best lawyer on the east coast. He would get out of her what he wanted to know.
His face was impassive. “Have you, dear sister?”
“Oh, don’t get your tie in a twist. I’m old enough to know what I feel.”
He ran a hand over his forehead and ended up pinching the bridge of his nose. “So, where’s this man you sizzled with?”
She blushed but answered, “He’s marrying someone else.” Her breath caught and she lowered her eyes. “Or he’s already married by this time.”
“Sophie.” His quietly serious tone brought her gaze back to his. He scowled and Sophie watched his jaw tighten before he asked, “Do I need to settle matters with him?”
Good God. She could just imagine Reed heading across the country to give Riley
a good thrashing. She had a feeling it would be evenly matched, except that honorable Riley would most likely take a beating without throwing a punch in his own defense.
“No, please, Reed. It wasn’t like that. We had feelings for each other, but I knew he was spoken for. He was honest with me from the start.”
Reed studied her face for a moment. “I see. So, you came home, tail between your legs, hoping you could settle for Wainright.”
“Something along those lines. But I can’t.”
“Nor should you. This other scoundrel—” He paused when she shook her head at his characterization of Riley. “This other fellow may be taken, but you don’t have to make do. Nor do you have to live here under Mother’s watchful eye if you don’t want to. I admit, though, I love having you home.”
She sighed. “Reed, I loved living in San Francisco.”
“Because of this fellow?”
She had asked herself that very same question. “I thought so at first, but, no, not because of him. I like making my own way in the world. Here, everyone knows our family. Everything is handed to us.”
“I wouldn’t say that, but I know what you mean. Here, you live under the Malloy shadow, as well as the family’s expectations.”
“Exactly. In San Francisco, life is exciting . . . and the air smells different and the light is brighter somehow.” She clapped her hands with uncontainable excitement. “And I made some wonderful friends in a short time. Besides, with train travel what it is, I could come visit at least twice a year.”
He put his arm around her shoulders. “That doesn’t seem like very much visiting, but we can negotiate. That is, if I put in a word with Mother to calm her down.”
“Would you?”
He smiled. “I will. But what about Wainright?”
Sophie made a face. “I tried to tell him on the train, but he practically patted me on the head and as good as told me I’d get used to my new life.”
“Which he sees as?”
“As my being his wife, of course, while he is a professor at Harvard. That’s after he finishes his philosophy degree.”
“Sounds boring as dirt, probably similar to being a lawyer’s wife,” Reed remarked wryly. Sophie punched him playfully. “In all seriousness,” Reed continued, “I’m sure Wainright’s life would be perfectly suitable for some other lady, but not for you.”
She knew Reed would understand. She hugged him fiercely.
He lifted her chin and looked her in the eye. “I’m sorry, though, if you got your heart bruised by some blackguard out west.”
“No, no, I promise you, that’s not how it was. There was just something between us, so magical and inexplicable.” Sophie knew her tone was wistful. “But all along, we knew we had no future.”
“Sorry, pet. I hope you find it again.”
“Find what again?” asked Philip.
Chapter Eighteen
Sophie jumped. Philip had entered silently through the hall doorway beside them.
Reed gave his sister another hug then stood up. “I think I will leave you two to talk.” He patted Philip on the shoulder as he passed.
“Why did that feel like a condolence?” Philip’s brow puckered with worry.
“Sit and talk with me,” Sophie said, scooting over to give him room.
“All right, but I’m feeling less happy by the moment.”
She steeled herself to keep from feeling sorry for him. “Philip, why did you choose to go to Oxford by yourself?”
He scowled. “I thought we’d been over this before.”
“We have, but do you remember that last day in my apartment when you came to say goodbye”
“Of course.”
“You were so eager to start your new life, full of excitement for the future.”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t see me in your future.”
“I believed you were part of my old life and I wanted everything new. But I was wrong.”
“I don’t think you were.” She clasped her hands on her lap. “If you loved me as you think you did, you would have wanted to share that new life with me. You would have wanted to explore Oxford with me by your side. I don’t think it was only a new town or university you wanted. I think you wanted to feel a passionate new love, too.”
“Whatever I felt then is irrelevant. I want you now.”
His words did nothing to soften her heart. “Why aren’t you returning to Oxford? Tell me the truth now. I can tell when you’re lying.”
He pursed his lips for a moment. “I am not allowed to go back, but it’s not a pleasant story.”
“I don’t need a pleasant one. I’m not a child.”
“Very well. I had a liaison with the don’s wife.”
She gasped. “Your tutor’s wife?”
He grimaced. “She was a minx. Always hanging around my dormitory. So wild and different.” He looked past Sophie and she could tell he was far away. “She professed herself very bored with her husband and admitted to being infatuated with me. I kept putting her off, but, in the end, the temptation was too much to overcome.”
Sophie understood a thing or two about temptation. She could not blame Philip at all, except for his extreme lack of judgment.
“She was looking for a way out of her marriage,” Philip continued. “I thought we were falling in love, but after we’d, well, after we’d met together a few times,” he explained, “she made sure we were caught in flagrante delicto, as it were.”
Sophie pictured Philip and his ladylove in a dorm room and her husband walking in. It could as easily have been a hotel room. She swallowed. “What happened?”
“Exactly what she wanted to have happen. He sent her packing, back to Portugal, with a sum of money so that she wouldn’t disgrace him any further amongst the academy. And he had me swiftly expelled for the same reason.”
“Oh, Philip, I am sorry.” But in her heart of hearts, she knew it was only then, after he returned to Boston, that his thoughts had turned to her. She was safe and familiar, and he assumed, most likely, that she would never, ever cheat on him. She felt as though she already had.
“You and I can make a go of it, Sophie,” he beseeched, casting her a desperate look.
“No,” she said firmly. “We can’t. I’m leaving. I was wrong to come back with you.”
Philip stood up abruptly. “It’s because of that Dalcourt fellow, isn’t it?”
“No,” she protested. “It isn’t.” She wished it were. She wished he were waiting for her.
“Then, perhaps, Mr. Vern, your boss?”
“No, Philip. It isn’t anyone, except me. I simply can’t see myself as your wife anymore.” No need to be brutal and say how she could never love him with the passion she’d felt for another. “I’m sorry.”
She rose to her feet, purposefully linking her arm with his and walking him across the parquet floor of the conservatory.
“Will I see you again?” he asked, on a subdued note.
“Perhaps,” she began, and then admitted, “but I don’t think so. I wish you every happiness at Harvard.”
He took her hand and brought it to his lips.
She smiled. “And, Philip, dear, stay away from other men’s wives.”
*****
She was still in a Mendelssohn mood. The next day, it was her sister-in-law’s brisk footsteps that nearly interrupted the concerto, though at first Sophie didn’t hear Charlotte or her companion. She finished the piece then turned to face the applause, surprised to see Charlotte with a middle-aged man whom Sophie had never seen before.
“That was lovely.” Reed’s wife was the first to speak, as Sophie rose to greet her with a hug. “When I think how disgusted you must have been to see my old upright . . . ” she trailed off.
“Oh, no. Far from it,” Sophie said. “Your piano in the middle of nowhere was my salvation.” Then she brought her hands up to her cheeks. “Oh, Charlotte, I didn’t mean that Spring City was in the middle of nowhere.”
He took her hand and kissed it, looking at her benignly with intelligent eyes.
“Your playing surpassed my expectations, even from what Mrs. Malloy told me,” he said, speaking matter-of-factly, with no hint of vacant flattery.
Sophie inclined her head. “Thank you. Your name is familiar, sir.”
“Well, it might be, young lady, I dare say.”
Charlotte spoke up, “Mr. Hadley, Henry Hadley, is visiting family in Somerville. But you probably know him as a conductor and composer.”
“Oh,” said Sophie, looking at him now with professional interest, “that Henry Hadley. You studied with Eusebius Mandyczewski in Vienna.”
“I did.” He bowed his head modestly.
Sophie was delighted. She gestured to her piano. “Would you care to play? It’s a fine instrument.”
“Yes, I heard.” He ran his hand over the inlay. “Beautiful, too.” Then he looked at Sophie. “But I didn’t come to play. I came to listen. Will you play something else for me? Perhaps something from Lizst.”
She looked curiously at him, then at Charlotte, who nodded.
“All right, I will.” Sophie sat down and found her sheet music for Liebestraum, but after a few notes, she played from memory. After many minutes, she stopped, and as always when the last notes died out, she had the feeling she’d been away and then returned.
Both her listeners clapped again and Mr. Hadley said, “Bravo.”
“What’s this all about, Charlotte?” Sophie asked, seeing the mischievous look on her sister-in-law’s face. But it was Henry Hadley who answered.
“I’m going to conduct a symphony. I’ve a host of musicians already and found more at Ada Clement’s Piano School.”
“I’ve been there,” Sophie said. “In San Francisco. I stopped in to practice the same day I auditioned for the symphony.” She wrinkled her nose when she recalled her cold reception.
“Ah, yes. For Herr Becker. How did that go?”