The Heart That Wins (Regency Spies Book 3) (9 page)

“Please stay, John, you have not told me yet what you’ve been doing for the last two years.”

Since they had never felt the need to be polite to one another in private, he guessed that her request was made out of genuine curiosity.

Obediently John sat, picked up his glass and began his tale.

Laurent was not required at his post for long, as Franz appeared before John’s story had got him out of England. The Prussian threw open the door to the sitting-room as if he hoped to waken every sleeping occupant of the house.

“Why are you here?”

He glared at John.

“Franz! He is my guest,” protested Sophia.

“Edmund invited me to finish my brandy.”

John raised the glass to him. Franz gestured to the footman to leave. John hoped the man had only gone to stand outside the room, for he would have to leave soon and he would not leave Sophia alone with the Prussian.

John examined his glass; it really was far too good just to swallow quickly. He settled back into the sofa and stretched his long legs out in front of him.

“John was telling me about his life as a soldier,” said Sophia quietly.

“I’m sure that will be a very interesting story.”

There was a challenge in his tone that John did not like. Did the Prussian expect him to sit here and tell Sophia everything? Although he had never lied to Sophia, there were things he would never tell her, simply because it would upset her to know that he had gone through them. There would be enough grief for her when she found out about him.

“For another evening, perhaps,” said John. He took a sip from his glass.

“You will not be welcome here again.”

“That’s not for you to say, Franz.”

Sophia was becoming angry again.

With a sigh John swallowed the rest of his brandy and stood. He bowed to Sophia.

Franz was right and he should not be here. Even though he had known what Edmund was doing when he invited John to stay, he had wanted to sit with Sophia a little longer and desire had won over common sense.

“I shall wish you goodnight.”

“You don’t have to let Franz chase you away.”

“I should not have accepted Edmund’s invitation.”

“I shall see you again...”

“Only if you need my help.”

“John...”

“I have no wish to hear you spoken of as people speak of your mother.”

This would be the last time they met. Sophia’s curiosity meant that she would have to find out exactly what his reputation was and then she would hate him.

“Tell me now,” said Sophia when she was alone with Franz, her brandy forgotten. There had been something unpleasantly final in the way John had left. She had offered him her hand, but he had bowed, rather awkwardly, and turned on his heel, ignoring Franz altogether. She was confused. Her mother had implied that she would rather see Sophia with any man in Brussels than with John, but there had been no hint about him that John was ashamed of anything.

“Tell you what?”

“What John has done to ruin his reputation?”

“I cannot. I told you that no decent person would.”

Much as she wanted to, she did not think Franz was lying. He really did believe that John had done something dreadful.

“Then you must welcome him here as my friend.”

“I cannot do that.”

“I shall pack this evening and move into a hotel tomorrow. I shan’t see you again.”

“There are no rooms left and you know that Edmund will not let you leave.”

“Then I shall go and stay with John.”

Sophia thought it probable that Franz knew she would not do this, but only because it would reflect badly on Edmund and Mary. For herself, she did not care, although she doubted John would take her in.

“Can you not take my word for it?”

“Not when Edmund welcomes him into his home.”

She clung to this. Entry to the house was barred to Mrs Arbuthnot, but John Warren was welcome and not just because Sophia had brought him here. Edmund was quite capable of having him thrown out if he had thought John’s presence here was undesirable.

“You are too innocent to know about such things.”

“He’s my friend, unless you can tell me why he should not be.”

“I’m sorry, Sophia, your disappointment will be great.”

He really was sorry; she could see it now. He had been trying to protect her by keeping it from her. For a moment Sophia wanted to take back her request; she did not want to know. Who would she be if she could not love John?

Franz sat beside her, but made no move to touch her. He turned towards her, his hands restless on his thighs.

“I heard the rumour when we were in Paris. I knew that he was the nephew of one of my English friends, so I hoped it was not true. I thought how hurt George would be when he heard these tales, for they would travel far and fast. I decided that I could help by proving that they were not true. I watched Warren to find out what kind of man he was and what he did.”

“And what did he do?” asked Sophia when he stopped, aware that Edmund must have done the same, for John’s Uncle George was the earl of Meldon, Edmund’s oldest and closest friend.

“He went looking for little girls and took them home with him.”

It took Sophia a moment to understand what he meant. Then she laughed.

“No, John would not... He could not... You don’t know him.”

Seeing that Franz was serious, she took a sip of the brandy and went over what he had said.

“Go away.”

Franz had moved towards her, his arms stretched out as if to hold her.

“I never want to see you again.”

“I told you...”

Wordlessly she stood and ran from the room and up into her bedroom. There she sat dry-eyed in the dark, picturing John with girls younger than her youngest sister.

She was still there when the sun rose.

The house in which John was staying had no room in which he could receive his visitor, so he went down to the street to meet her when she called. It was far from ideal, for they would be seen. The harm they had each done to Sophia’s reputation was already great and it would only be made worse if they were seen together. John hated to imagine what Sophia would think of him if word got back to her that he had been seen talking to her mother.

“I’m unable to invite you in, Mrs Arbuthnot. I only have one room.”

“And I daresay you have a child up there.”

John said nothing about that, for there was indeed a ten year old girl asleep in his bed.

“I assume you did not come here to insult me, nor to gather information for the gossips.”

The thought of gossips made him pause. When she heard what his reputation was, Sophia would consider his talking to her mother the lesser betrayal, but a betrayal nonetheless.

“I came to tell you to stay away from my daughter. My husband will be calling you out if you don’t.”

John had not thought about this before, but considered the possibility now. Sophia’s father was a respectable man, who loved his daughter. It would mean John’s death, of course, for he would not defend himself against Sophia’s father.

“That is Mr Arbuthnot’s right.”

Mrs Arbuthnot became angry.

“Mr Grant is my husband.”

“We both know he’s not and soon all of Brussels will know as well.”

John wanted to avoid this, for it would harm Sophia, even if it meant that her mother no longer moved in the same circles as her.

“Are you threatening me?”

“You caused a scene at a ball. People will talk about you and some will know that you’re still married to Mr Arbuthnot.”

“He should have divorced me.”

“It would not have changed Sophia’s opinion of you.”

“How dare you use her name like that!”

He did not think her anger was feigned, but it was time to remind her that he had proven his love for her daughter, while she had not.

“You must have forgotten that I’ve been her friend since before you left your husband and your daughters.”

“You will not see her again, not a man with your reputation.”

“That is my affair. Now, you have delivered your message. Please, go. I have no wish to be seen talking to you.”

John turned to go into the house, then turned back as if by afterthought.

“I suggest you make no more efforts to see Sophia. If associating with me is bad for her, it is, as far as most people are concerned, only that, an association. She is your daughter and it won’t be long before people are saying that she will take after you if you insist on causing a scene by trying to see her.”

John realised that he had clenched his fists. He was still angry with Edmund for bringing Sophia here. In London most people had forgotten that Mrs Arbuthnot had run away with her lover and the Arbuthnot girls were finding husbands. All of Brussels would soon know the scandal and would remind London, to the detriment of the marriage prospects of the unmarried girls, including Sophia. John felt the familiar twisting in his stomach at the thought of Sophia with another man, but she had to marry and she could not marry him. Therefore she would bear another man’s children.

“She is my daughter and I will see her whenever I wish.”

John caught her wrist as she turned away from him.

“If you see her again without her consent I shall call your lover out and kill him.”

Even as he made the threat he realised that it was not an empty one. He was quite prepared to kill Mr Grant to keep Sophia happy. With a shock he understood that the tendency to resort to violence to protect her had always been there. The depth of his feelings for her made it difficult for him to control himself where she was concerned. Every act of bravery on the battlefield had been instigated by the need to keep her safe, to keep the French out of England.

Mrs Arbuthnot wrenched herself free.

“What reason could you have for calling him out?”

John stood even closer to her, so that she was aware of his height. She shrank back.

“I’m sure you’re not his only vice.”

John had spent some time since his arrival in Brussels finding out about Grant. The man had debts here, as he had had in England. There had been a string of mistresses and he gambled. John guessed that he could get Grant to pick a fight with him easily enough.

“How dare you!”

“Do you understand that you are to stay away from Sophia? I’m not above threatening your sons. You know my lack of morals.”

“She’s my daughter,” persisted Mrs Arbuthnot, although less strenuously.

“And she doesn’t want to see you. Let her find a husband here.”

He spoke through clenched teeth, unwilling to think of Sophia with another man, but, if she married, he would be free. There would no longer be even the tiny glimmer of hope that she could love him that still persisted, despite his efforts to extinguish it.

“You can’t hope to marry her.”

Her voice dropped to an appalled whisper.

This was the first true emotion she had shown for her daughter and John was moved by it.

“No,” he admitted quickly, “I can’t hope to marry her.”

She considered this for so long that John began to worry.

“Very well,” she said, “I shall not approach her again.”

“Thank you.”

He had hated this woman for most of his life, because of the hurt she had caused Sophia, now he asked himself what it had cost her to leave her husband and her daughters. Did she know her lover was worthless and had betrayed her? Did she care as long as she had her sons? John could not guess. All he knew was that he had to protect Sophia from her mother’s reputation as much as from his own.

Mrs Arbuthnot turned and walked away and John could only feel relief.

For a few days Franz kept his distance and Sophia had no need to be anything other than formally polite to him. Mary was too tired to notice and Edmund was too worried about his wife and the lack of information from his agents to pay attention to anything else. They were left to their own devices.

Sophia went through the motions of going to the parties and balls and even caught sight of John at a couple of them. Franz escorted her, but did not trouble her for a dance and left her as soon as they arrived somewhere.

It was the very fact that he did not try to be reconciled with her that allowed her to be reconciled with him.

“I appreciate that you meant it for the best,” she said one night as they were returning in the carriage from a ball, “and I cannot hold that against you.”

“Thank you.”

“But if we are to be friends again...”

“Yes?”

He leaned across the carriage towards her. His intensity was such that Sophia had to force herself not to recoil from him.

“You must say no more against, or even about, Captain Warren.”

“But...”

“No. You have told me his reputation and I understand why I cannot see him again. You must acknowledge that he has made no attempt to see me. He saved me from a situation in which he saw the danger to me and you did not. He came into the house only because I invited him. He has behaved properly.”

“I cannot believe that Edmund...”

“He invited John to stay.”

“He must know the man’s reputation.”

Sophia could feel that he was growing angry. Like her, he must have wondered why Edmund had insisted that a man with John’s reputation dine with them in Paris and then sit and drink brandy with Sophia in Brussels. Edmund would have avoided any dealings with such a man unless he had some use for him. Sophia concluded that Edmund had seen a way to use John, but had not disclosed it to her.

“This is the last word I will say to you about him and if you ever mention him again, we will cease to be friends.”

When he did not answer immediately, she knew he was considering his answer.

“Very well. You understand the situation now.”

“I do.”

But she did not. She did not understand in the least what John was doing. There was no doubt in her mind that Franz had told her the truth and she knew that if she asked Edmund, he would tell her the same story. Tears filled her eyes at the thought and was grateful for the darkness inside the carriage.

“Now we are friends again,” said Franz cheerfully, “may I invite you to accompany me to the races tomorrow?”

His enthusiasm was almost overwhelming. Had her heart not been broken for a second time, she might have granted his request with a smile.

All she did was say, “Yes.”

It was a bright and warm spring day and the sun lifted Sophia’s spirits as they travelled out of Brussels. The races were between cavalry officers and Sophia guessed that they went some way towards relieving the officers’ boredom while they waited to move into France. No one doubted that there was to be an invasion; it was only a question of waiting for enough soldiers to arrive before they moved. Sophia’s task, along with Edmund’s other agents, was to find enough information to allow them to move with certainty. Such information was, however, in short supply.

She did not normally enjoy watching horse races. It was impossible to have a good view of the whole race and she could never tell the difference between the riders or the horses, so could never say whether the horse on which she had placed her bet had won or lost. There was a lot of excitement during the minute or so of the race and a lot of boredom while the horses and riders prepared for the next race.