by Julia Quinn
“You and food,” Sophia said disgustedly. “We’re not having a picnic. We are digging for Lady Neeley’s bracelet.”
“Actually,” Max said apologetically, “your sister is digging. I’m directing.” He pointed to the hole. “Watch what you’re about, Sophia. Your hole is no longer round, but oval, so have a care—”
Thunk. A shovelful of dirt hit the ground dangerously near his feet.
“Oh ho!” John said, holding up his hands and backing away. “I think I’ll continue my ride. Take care of m’sister, Easterly. Can’t have her tossing dirt on the prince or someone important.” With a wink, John left.
“He is such a bother,” Sophia said. She dug the shovel into the ground once again, and a comfortable silence reined for several minutes as she continued. Suddenly a loud scrape filled the air. Sophia blinked at Max, eyes wide with excitement.
Max pushed himself from the tree and leaned forward to peer into the hole. The edge of a small wooden box was visible. “It isn’t buried very deeply, is it?”
“No.” She tossed aside the shovel and bent to scrape dirt away. As soon as the entire box was exposed, she grasped it with both hands and pulled it out. Whatever was inside, it slid to one side. Sophia frowned as she stood. “That doesn’t sound like a bracelet.”
“Maybe it’s wrapped in something. Open it and see.”
She fumbled a little with the latch.
“My God!” The cry rang through the air.
Max whirled around and found Brooks standing before him. The man was ludicrously dressed in a riding coat of blue velvet with large brass buttons.
Sophia wrapped her arms around the box and backed away. “We know about the box, Brooks. And we know that Afton assisted you.”
Brooks’s face went as pale as it had been red. “Blast it all! It’s my cousin, Percy, isn’t it? He put you up to this.” The man’s shoulders slumped. “Damn, I knew—I told Afton to be sure—and he said he had, but—oh damn it all!” He wiped a hand over his face. “I suppose you are going straight to my aunt?”
“We have to,” Sophia said. “We must clear Easterly’s name.”
Brooks blinked. “Easterly?” He looked at Max, his confusion plain. “What do you have to do with my aunt’s parrot?”
There was a moment of stunned silence.
“Parrot?” Sophia said.
“Well, yes.” Brooks frowned. “What did you think—” His brow suddenly cleared. “The bracelet! You thought Aunt Theodora’s silly bracelet was in there!”
Sophia looked at Max, confused beyond comprehension. He stepped forward. “If the bracelet is not what you were hiding, then what is in the box?”
Sophia suddenly paled and slowly held the box before her at arm’s length. “Do not tell me Lady Neeley’s parrot—”
“Lord, no!” Brooks said. “That would be a gruesome find, wouldn’t it?”
Max reached over and took the box from Sophia’s unresisting hands, then laid it on the ground. “Brooks, you had better explain yourself.”
“I rather think I should. Aunt Theodora’s bird had a horrible trick of sleeping in the cushions on the settee. M’aunt was forever warning me to plump the pillows. One day, I forgot and I sat on the blasted thing. That bird raised such a fuss! He swooped at me and tried to pluck my hair.” Brooks shuddered. “I ran for my life. Out of the room and out the front door. The problem is, the bird went with me.”
Max frowned. “With you?”
“Yes. Followed me nigh on a mile, screeching and pecking at my head. It’s a wonder I didn’t lose an eye.”
“So the parrot escaped.”
“Gone forever. I looked and looked, but there was no finding it.” Brooks sighed. “Meanwhile, m’aunt found out her precious pet was gone and put up a huge fuss. No one knew the blasted animal had followed me out the door and I deuced well wasn’t going to tell anyone, especially not m’cousin Percy.”
“Who would have informed Lady Neeley,” Sophia said.
“He would have, but I outfoxed him.” Brooks straightened, obviously proud of himself. “I couldn’t find the real bird, though I looked for days on end. So I got another one from Afton. He has a slew of them, and this one looked just like m’aunt’s old one. Then I took the bird to m’aunt’s house and left it inside an open window. She thinks it flew back on its own.”
“A perfect plan,” Max said.
“Well. No,” Brooks said uneasily. “There was one rub. See, the new bird is a bit of a crackpot, too. Didn’t like anything that belonged to the old bird, not the stand, the toys, even hated the silver bell m’aunt had bought for the stupid thing.”
Sophia’s toe came out to rest on the box. “So that’s what’s in here?”
“All the bird’s toys, his bedding, everything. Didn’t dare dispose of it near m’aunt’s house. Feel free to look if you wish.”
Sophia undid the latch and opened the box. “Heavens,” she said looking at the jumble of items.
“Sad what she spends on that thing,” Brooks said with a regretful shake of his head. “What was worse was that I had to purchase the same exact things for the new bird, which was a pain, let me tell you.”
Sophia closed the box, her arms suddenly tired. “I suppose we should rebury this.”
Brooks looked relieved. “Would you mind? Percy is a dastardly man and will do what he can to cut me out of the will.”
“Of course,” Sophia said, realizing that Brooks was her last suspect. She had failed Max once again. The realization closed her throat. She picked up the box and went to place it in the hole.
But as she did so, Max’s warm hand closed over her arm. “Let me,” he said. And he took the box and replaced it, then began steadily shoveling the dirt back into the hole.
Brooks meanwhile droned on and on about his troubles and the quirks of the new parrot and how it had fallen in love with Lady Neeley’s companion, and how it now refused to eat tea crackers, though the old bird had loved the stale things. Sophia barely listened. Sighing, she turned so that she could see the pathway and all the people riding by. She thought she caught a glimpse of her cousin, Charlotte, looking pink-cheeked and refined. Sophia brightened. Perhaps she should invite Charlotte over for dinner one night. Perhaps if she stayed very busy and kept people about her, she wouldn’t think of Max quite so often and thus could break the spell he seemed able to cast over her without even the slightest effort. For some reason, the more she saw Max, the stronger that spell seemed to be, and it was beginning to frighten her just the tiniest bit.
Max put the final shovelful of dirt on the mound. “There. Good as new.”
“Thank you,” Brooks said. “And ah…do you mind not noising this around?”
“Of course.” Max took Sophia’s elbow and, with a final nod to Brooks, escorted her back to her carriage. Max handed the shovel to the footman and assisted Sophia into her seat, then stood beside the open window, his gaze questioning.
She couldn’t begin to explain how miserable she felt. “I should go home and wash up.” She splayed her hand over her skirts. “I fear I’ve ruined—” She meant to say “my gown.” But the words stuck in her throat.
Max gave an impatient sigh. “Sophia, don’t look so defeated. It doesn’t matter about Lady Neeley’s bracelet—”
“It matters to me. It was my one chance to prove that I am not what I once was, that I—” She stopped, suddenly realizing what she’d almost said.
“What is it, Sophia?” he asked quietly, his voice intent.
But her pride would not allow her to say the painful words. Words that left her bare, exposed, vulnerable in some way; an object of pity. Years of being alone had taught her one thing—if she wished to avoid pity, then she could not admit to weakness.
Gulping air, she steeled herself to meet his gaze evenly. “It’s not about anything, Max. You seem to forget that you are not the only one bearing the Easterly name. It is my name that I am protecting.”
Max’s face hardened. “You still
want the annulment.”
The hurt inside of her pressed forward, moving her lips, forcing a brittle laugh. “Of course I still want it! It’s all I’ve ever wanted. And as soon as you give it to me, I’m going to begin again, living life and finding love.”
White lines appeared on either side of his mouth. “I thought we were beginning anew. Starting to know one another again—”
“I want the annulment,” she repeated.
To her utter disappointment, he stepped away from her carriage. “Then that is what you shall have.” He nodded curtly to her, then turned on his heel and walked away.
Sophia watched him go, her heart already shedding the tears her eyes could not. With eyes painfully dry, she motioned to the coachman to take her home.
Chapter 6
It is difficult to credit, but Lady Easterly was seen in Hyde Park yesterday morning with a shovel. Stranger still, she was using the rather rustic tool to dig a hole behind a rather large bit of shrubbery on the south side of the park.
And if that weren’t enough for comment, Lord Easterly was there as well, but he was merely laughing and directing the poor woman in her labors.
This Author hasn’t a clue what they were looking for, or indeed, if they found it.
LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 12 JUNE 1816
By the next morning, Sophia found herself in even more dismal spirits. She stayed home and paced the length of her sitting room, hands clasped behind her back. She should have been thinking of the bracelet, for she was once again back at point nonplus. But instead, she was thinking of Max.
What was it about him that made her forget herself? She was torn, torn between throwing caution to the wind and the need to protect herself from more hurt. What she needed was a promise. No, not a promise—hadn’t Max once promised never to leave her, only to walk away a few months later? She needed something stronger than a promise.
She hugged herself, aware of the tears that threatened. She wanted to love him the way she once had—freely, openly, without an underlying feeling of doubt and dread. But how could she? Whatever her feelings for Max, they were dangerous to her peace of mind. Being with him stripped her bare, made her vulnerable in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to be since…well, since the first time she’d loved him.
Never again. Perhaps if she only saw him when there were people about. Of course, the Tewkesberrys’ house had been filled with people and that hadn’t seemed to change things. She sighed. She needed to stop thinking about Max so much. Perhaps she should invite her cousin Charlotte to visit this weekend. Yes, that was exactly what she would do.
Sophia had just turned toward her escritoire to pen a note when a soft knock preceded Jacobs. “My lady, Mr. Riddleton to see you.”
Thomas! Good Lord, but she’d almost forgotten he was due back. She supposed it was telling that it had taken so little time to remove him from her mind. Still, it would be nice to see a friend. “Show him in.”
Moments later, Jacobs escorted Thomas into the room and then closed the door.
Thomas came forward. He was tall and handsome, with thick brown hair and a sincere expression. He took her hand and pressed his lips to her fingers, a genuine smile in his eyes. “Sophia. You look lovely.”
“Thank you.” She pulled her hand free, slightly embarrassed by the gesture. Why couldn’t she have fallen in love with a man like Thomas? Life simply was not fair. She gestured to a chair. “Won’t you be seated?”
Thomas took it, watching with a complacent air as she took the chair opposite his.
“How was your visit with your mother?”
“Fine. Though it would have passed more quickly had you written more often.”
“More often?” she exclaimed. “But I didn’t write at all.”
“My point exactly,” he said in a dry voice.
She managed a smile. “I warned you that I was not a very enthusiastic correspondent.”
“Yes, you did. I suppose I just thought…” His smile dimmed a little, his gaze became searching. “Sophia, I know that Easterly has returned.”
For some reason, her cheeks heated. “Yes, he has.”
“I see. I had hoped he would not have to return in person…but that is neither here nor there. I trust you have already talked to him about the annulment?”
Oh yes, they had “talked.” They had “talked” and kissed and come darn close to doing Other Things, as well. “We haven’t quite agreed on…things.”
Thomas’s brow lowered. “Perhaps I should send my solicitor around to see him, just to expedite—”
“I beg your pardon?” Sophia blinked. “Are you suggesting I cannot handle my own affairs?”
He regarded her with surprise for a moment, then suddenly relaxed, smiling a little. “I see what it is. You are overset. And it’s no wonder. Your emotions are in disarray since Easterly’s return, and that is only natural.”
Really? She wondered what was the correct amount of emotional disarray caused by a passionate kiss while hiding in a dark closet? “I’m sorry, Thomas, but my disarray is perhaps a bit more—”
He held up a hand. “Please. In this instance, I believe I know you better than you know yourself.”
Sophia’s mouth opened, then closed. When had Thomas gotten so arrogant? Surely he hadn’t always been that way. She shifted in her seat, a little uncomfortable at how matters were turning. “Excuse me, but I am perfectly able to interpret my own feelings and thoughts. There is no reason for you to think you need to do so for me.”
She had meant it as a gentle rebuke and hoped he would not take it amiss.
He chuckled. “Sophia, I believe we are beyond the point of pretending that we do not know one another far better than that. Now come, tell me all about Easterly’s return. I vow, but I did not think he would come back to England himself, but I suppose my letter left him feeling—”
“Your letter?”
“Why, yes. I took the liberty of sending him a missive describing how his efforts on behalf of your request would be to his benefit.”
Sophia could not believe what she was hearing. “You sent my husband a letter about my personal efforts—”
“Yes, well—” Thomas straightened in his seat a little. “I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“If you didn’t think I’d mind, why didn’t you ask my permission?”
His face reddened. “Now see here, Sophia, I have a stake in this too.”
“You? What makes you think that?”
“What? Come now. You cannot pretend that we have not been much in each other’s company of the last several months.”
“I don’t pretend anything. We have become very good friends, or so I thought.” She began to wonder if he spoke about her like this when he was with his friends at White’s. Perhaps that was the reason so many people were whispering about the two of them. “Friends and that is all,” she stated firmly.
“Sh! I will not hear another word.” He smiled kindly, as if to alleviate the words of their pomposity. “I am a patient man, Sophia. I will wait until the annulment is done and Easterly leaves once again.”
Max leave…Sophia had to swallow to unlock her throat. Surely he wouldn’t. Not now that she…Not now that she what? she asked herself. But her cowardly heart did not answer.
Thomas crossed one booted foot over the other, his gaze never leaving her face. “I have heard about the incident with the bracelet. An unseemly affair, though I supposed one should not be surprised, considering everything.”
That blasted bracelet. “I don’t know what you heard, but I assure you the real case is much different than the rumors being bandied about.”
“It is a pity that Easterly has once again allowed his reputation to be so damaged.”
Sophia could not take another moment of it. In the past, she had rather enjoyed Thomas’s air of certainty. But now she found it supremely annoying. Had he changed? she wondered. Or had she?
Thomas shrugged, his broad shoulders moving easily
beneath the fine cut of his coat. “It doesn’t really matter if he took the bracelet or not. All the incident does is stress that the sooner he proceeds with the annulment and returns to Italy, the better it will be for you.” He smiled. “For us both.”
“Wait.” Sophia stood. “Thomas, I’m afraid you’ve made an error. We are friends and no more.”
His smile faltered a little. “Sophia! Don’t we get along well?”
“Usually, yes.”
“And don’t we enjoy the same things—the theater, riding, and more?”
“Yes.”
“Well then…” His eyes softened. “Why not? I know your heart is still tender from Max’s thoughtlessness, but I can promise you this: I will never leave you.”
He meant it, she could see that he did. But it didn’t matter. “Thomas, I don’t feel for you what I should. And I can never marry without feeling love, real love. You and I…we can never be more than friends.”
She gave his hand a gentle squeeze, then released it. “I cannot accept anything less than what I had with Max when we first met. I want all of that and more.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You don’t need to. I’m afraid I can no longer see you. I’m sorry, but…This is better for us both. Good-bye.” Without waiting for more protestations, she turned on her heel and left, feeling as if a weight had been removed from her shoulders.
The next few days were a quandary of emotion. First of all, the man she’d asked to leave her, would not. Thomas called every day. He sent letters. Poems. Flowers. Even a remarkably pretty ring. Sophia returned them all with a kind, but clearly worded note.
What was worse than Thomas’s refusal to heed her requests was that the man she wanted to visit her, made no appearance at all. It was maddening. After two days, she enlisted the help of her brother. “You must,” she insisted.
John looked up from where he sprawled in the best chair in the sitting room, cracking nuts from a dish at his elbow. “No, I don’t,” he said bluntly. “Besides, it’s a deuced stupid idea, driving over there and knocking on the door to see if he’s well. He’s a grown man, for heaven’s sake. He’ll think I’ve taken leave of my senses.”