The Heart That Wins (Regency Spies Book 3) Read online

  John placed her on the bed and then considered what else needed to be done. He removed her shoes carefully and pulled the covers up to her waist. She was wearing stays, he recalled from his attempt to undress her, and it would do her no good to sleep in them. Gently he eased her onto her side and knelt behind her. He kissed her exposed neck then loosened her gown and stays. She would be more comfortable if both were removed, but she would be embarrassed enough to know that he had taken this liberty.

  After another kiss on her shoulder he pulled the covers up to her neck. He thought he heard her murmur his name, but remembered her anger and knew she had not.

  He turned the chair so that it faced the bed and sat in it, telling himself that he was only staying in case she woke in distress in the night, but knew it was a lie. This would be the only time he would ever be able to watch Sophia sleep.

  One of his many dreams about her had been to wake after they had made love just to sit and watch her. That would never happen now; he had made sure of that.

  Sophia was beautiful as she slept, despite the redness of her eyes. The covers slipped and he thought she looked a little wanton with her bare shoulder showing above the sheet. He should have taken her hair down, he realised. He had never touched it before tonight. He hoped the pins would not do her any harm as she slept. Even as he thought it, he carefully pulled out the remaining pins, running her hair through his fingers as he did so.

  All night he watched her, wondering if there were a way to save their friendship. The one thing he did not allow himself to think about was that she loved him still. It did not change anything. It was only as he rose to return to Brussels with the dawn that he realised that it changed everything.

  Sophia woke up in the bed. For a while, she lay where she was. The events of the previous evening filled her mind with terrible thoughts. She felt as if she had cried for hours, but it could not have been long before she had fallen into an exhausted sleep on the floor of the sitting-room. John must have carried her to bed and left her there, unwanted, despite his professions of love.

  It was growing light outside and she realised that she had lost her opportunity to speak to him before he returned to Brussels. They had agreed earlier that a man discreet enough to hide his mistress this far away from Brussels would certainly leave before anyone could notice that he had been there. They had both been too cowardly to finish their conversation from the night before. Perhaps it was as well that they had some time apart now to think over what had been said and what had been done. She could still feel his lips on hers and his body as she had explored it with her hands. She wondered what it would be like to explore his naked body, to be naked beneath him. Sophia suspected the pleasure she had known last night was but the prelude to something wonderful.

  She sat up as she heard a noise outside. Hearing it again, she got out of bed. Pulling the thin curtain aside she looked out in time to see John leave in the curricle. He did not look back. It was only as she moved away from the window that she realised that her gown and stays were undone. Tears pricked her eyes at John’s thoughtfulness. It had never been possible for her to be angry with him for long. He always acknowledged the reasons for her anger and continued to treat her with kindness and gentleness. He never held her anger against her and never avoided a situation in which she might become angry.

  It would be some days before they met again. Enough time, she hoped, to think up an argument to convince him to take her as his mistress. The time apart would also give him time to think about her offer. He would realise that she had been serious, but she thought it probable that he would turn her down again. He had a strong sense of duty, to her and to her father. It was clear he wanted her body, but he had enough self-control to manage his desire. Whereas she had no self-control at all.

  The best she could hope for was that they could still be friends and even that would be impossible if he insisted on maintaining his reputation. Her only comfort was that he had told her that he loved her and that he was her friend. The hatred that had kept him in the army must have been short-lived.

  Sophia closed the curtain and started to get ready for her first day alone.

  There was not much to do while she waited for Sunday to come. Franz was to meet her as she came out of church. Sophia wrote a few letters to give to John; she read the volume of Voltaire that she had brought with her and hoped that John would bring more books. She finished the dress that she was making for the baby. At least Mary would keep her fingers busy with sewing.

  On Sunday morning Sophia dressed more soberly than usual in her guise of a kept woman and crossed the little square to the church. It was quiet and dark inside, despite the number of people already there. She had come late to avoid notice; there would be many who would disapprove of her presence and she had no wish to make the villagers more uncomfortable than they already were with her.

  Afterwards she was slow to leave and looked for Franz. Someone walked into her and almost knocked her down. She landed awkwardly on her foot and felt a pain in her ankle. The man put his arm round her waist and held her close.

  “I’m so sorry, Fräulein. So clumsy of me.”

  Franz’s French was so bad and so heavily accented that he was almost incomprehensible.

  “Think nothing of it,” she answered in German.

  “You speak German?”

  “A little and very badly.”

  “Allow me to give you my arm in case I have done any harm.”

  Franz released her and Sophia slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and guided him across the square to her lodgings. She limped slightly, allowing Franz to take some of her weight.

  “Are you hurt?” asked Jeanne, who had rushed back from the church to open the door for them.

  “My ankle is a little painful.”

  She looked meaningfully at the stairs, revealed by the open door.

  “Would you permit me to carry you?” asked Franz, now speaking in French for the servant’s benefit.

  “Would you mind? That’s very kind... Oh!”

  Franz had lifted her in one easy movement and held her in his arms. Sophia shifted awkwardly, but Franz held her tighter, clearly enjoying her discomfort.

  “Where should I take you?”

  “Upstairs, second door on the right.”

  Franz was not breathing any harder as he set her down inside the room. Jeanne followed them.

  “Allow me to introduce myself, Leutnant Weber.”

  He bowed.

  “Excuse me for not curtsying... my ankle.”

  “Of course. Let me help you to the sofa.”

  Disconcertingly, he sat beside her. Sophia resisted the impulse to move away; that was not what a woman like Sophie Langlois would do in such a situation.

  “Some coffee, please, Jeanne.”

  The girl had followed them up and stared at the handsome Prussian. Two handsome men in one week was too much for her. She curtsied and ran back down the stairs.

  “You are looking particularly beautiful today, Sophia.”

  “I’m glad you think so. You nearly broke my ankle.”

  Instantly he was on his knees before her, undoing her boot.

  “Franz, stop. This is most improper.”

  “I will hear the maid in time.”

  “I’m not thinking about the maid. She already knows I’m a woman of loose morals.”

  She tried to snatch her foot away, but the pain was too great and she groaned.

  “Keep still, Sophia. You will only make it worse.”

  He drew the boot off slowly and Sophia gritted her teeth to keep from crying out. Setting the boot to one side he grimaced as he looked up at her.

  “I think it would be better if you removed the stocking yourself.”

  Sophia blushed.

  “I shall go down and ask for a bandage.”

  While Franz was gone, she rolled down her stocking. Her ankle already looked bruised, but she did not think any harm had been done. She could not tell thi
s story to John. She knew there was some antipathy between the men and guessed that Franz’s departure from the Finches’ house had something to do with John. She had asked Edmund who had simply said that he would not tell her. She would never ask Franz and had had no opportunity to ask John.

  Franz returned with Jeanne. He was carrying the coffee and she the bandages and water. Jeanne knelt and soaked the bandage in the water. Franz affected to look out of the window. Both Jeanne and Sophia were silent while the maid bound the ankle. Sophia fixed her eyes firmly on Franz; he had already seen more than he should.

  “I shall bring a footstool for Madame,” said Jeanne to Franz.

  “She already thinks you are master here,” said Sophia when they were alone again.

  “It is as well, otherwise she might denounce me to Captain Warren.”

  They had known that this was a weakness in the plan.

  “John says that if he finds out that I am unfaithful, he will demand half my expenses from you.”

  She tried to keep things as light as possible.

  “The English have no soul.”

  “Do you have news?”

  “None worth giving.”

  “Tell me what you have.”

  “Is there no time for pleasure first?”

  He was beside her on the sofa again, reaching for her hand. Sophia moved it away from him.

  “Tell me, Franz. I have told you before that I’m not playing at this.”

  “I am not playing, either, but I see no reason why we should not enjoy ourselves.”

  He captured her hand in his. Sophia pulled it back. It was unthinkable that he should make love to her here where she and John had offered themselves to one another.

  “Give me your report, then we will dine and you will leave.”

  “I’m supposed to stay the night.”

  “I’m not that fickle and I’m injured.”

  “Sophia.”

  His voice was gentle and he reached out to stroke her cheek.

  “Please don’t.”

  He pulled his hand back, as if stung.

  “There can be no hope for you with Warren.”

  “No, you made that quite clear. You’ll be happy to know that he agrees with you.”

  “You confronted him? You are even braver than I thought.”

  Franz had been very vocal in his disapproval of John’s participation in all this and had not hidden his disdain when Edmund had said that of the two men he would rather have John, but needed them both for the plan to work.

  “I asked him for an explanation. He gave it.”

  “How can there be an explanation for something so disgusting?”

  “There can’t be,” she said quietly. “You were right and I was wrong.”

  Franz nodded slowly.

  “Forgive me. I had hoped you were not in love with him. It must have been a great disappointment. I wonder if that was why Edmund chose him.”

  “I chose him.”

  “Even knowing the kind of man he is?”

  She rose from the sofa and winced when she put her left foot to the floor.

  “Since I can’t make a dignified exit, you had better go and ask Jeanne to bring up dinner when she’s ready.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  Sophia brushed back the tears that threatened. She could not bear the thought of Franz offering her comfort, when John had not.

  “I am,” she said, her voice unsteady.

  He left the room again and she heard him go down the stairs. When he returned he was carrying a jug of wine and two glasses.

  “Drink this,” he said handing her a glass. “You’ll feel better.”

  Sophia doubted it; her ankle throbbed and the dull ache behind her right eye would soon become a headache. Franz’s presence was a constant reminder that John was somewhere else and did not want her.

  She took a sip of the wine. Madame Gilbert, the landlady, always served good wine. Edmund had provided enough money to ensure Sophia’s comfort while she was waiting for Franz or John.

  “Give me your report,” she said again, “while I can concentrate enough to learn it.”

  The report was short and Sophia had it in her head quickly enough. Franz had joined the French army exactly where they had expected it to be and had been made welcome as a Prussian deserter. No one he had spoken to so far knew what was to happen, but all were expecting that they would be on the move soon into Belgium.

  Jeanne brought some food and they both sat down at the table, with Franz helping Sophia hobble across the room. Sophia ate a little, but her stomach churned with fear lest Franz make another approach to her. She was not afraid of him; she no longer thought that he would try to force himself on her. Her fear was that she must disappoint him when he turned once more to seduction and she had no idea what that would do to their ability to work together. She had managed not to be alone with him since he had made his declaration in the carriage, but his patience was wearing out and she expected him to make as much as he could of this opportunity.

  “Feeling better?”

  “A little, thank you.”

  “I should have taken more care when I bumped into you. It had seemed a good way to gain entry to your lodgings.”

  “I’ll heal… and it was.”

  “I shall leave you alone shortly. When does Captain Warren visit you next?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Then I will come on Wednesday, if I am able.

  “Be careful, Franz.”

  “Always.”

  “This is good information.”

  “Yes, it’s about time we had some good luck.”

  Sophia and John had finished dinner and were sitting next to one another on the sofa. Sophia had told him that no matter how uncomfortable he was being this close to her, she would not shout information of this sort to the other side of the room.

  He had arrived just in time for dinner and had made no mention of his last visit, since Jeanne was constantly coming into the room.

  Noticing that Sophia was limping slightly, he had asked for an explanation. Jeanne was serving them, so Sophia gave the answer that a woman in her situation would be expected to give, but John would know that the clumsy stranger outside the church was Franz. Had Sophia really been a kept woman, Jeanne’s blushes must have given everything away.

  “Then perhaps this scheme of yours will be worth it.”

  “Edmund told you it was my idea.”

  It pleased her that John knew this.

  “Yes.”

  “It was Edmund who approved my joining the service and when we met that first time he asked me if I was prepared to go to a man’s bed to get information from him.”

  “Sophia!”

  “Don’t pretend to be shocked. You must have wondered if I’ve ever done that.”

  “I wondered,” he agreed after a long silence. His face was blank. She’d always been able to read it before. Now she had no idea what he was thinking.

  “It’s never been necessary, but I could.”

  It was important that he know the lengths she could go to to save his life.

  “No!”

  “That’s not why I’m telling you this.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  Certain that he would pull away, she took his hand.

  “That evening he took me to the house of Louise Favelle. Did you know he killed her?”

  “No. I thought he loved her. I didn’t believe the other… that she was his mistress.”

  “We were all mistaken about that, even Edmund. There were letters in the house with her orders. I don’t know why she kept them. I think she was quite stupid in some ways. Their plan was to get Edmund into her bed and then destroy his usefulness by revealing that his mistress was a French spy.”

  “Edmund would never deny it if it was true,” said John, appreciating the simplicity of the plan, “but if it was not true, no one would believe it.”

  “It was a clever plan
.” Sophia was glad that John understood. “I started that night to work out ways in which a woman might get information from a man without getting into his bed. The Frenchwoman’s plan failed because not all men are what she assumed them to be. I determined to be better than her. I make plans that work. I have made it my goal to understand men and what they want and to offer it, but not give it.”

  “You’re telling me this to make me feel better about the danger you’re in?”

  Sophia shook her head. How could she make him understand that her body was his? She would only use it if she knew it was the only way to save his life.

  John pulled his hands free and stroked her cheek.

  “My darling Sophia, I’m afraid for your life, not your morals.”

  “Yet you turned me down. There’s someone else, isn’t there?”

  This had been her only conclusion after several days of thought. She knew she was close to tears, but fought to keep them back.

  “No. There is no one else, there has never been anyone else. I couldn’t betray you in that way.” He watched her for a moment. “To be clear, I have never loved another woman and I have never taken another woman to my bed. I haven’t ever wanted another woman. Sophia, you are and always will be the only woman I want.”

  “Then why refuse me?”

  “Because you are you.”

  Sophia nodded slowly. This was not an argument she was going to win quickly. She had lost her opportunity tonight. Perhaps it would have been better just to kiss him again. Why was she unable to form a coherent argument when he was near? It had all made sense when she had rehearsed the conversation that afternoon. Seeing that there would be no more talk tonight and no possibility of changing his mind, she said, “Take the bed, my love, and I’ll sleep here.”

  “No, that’s hardly...”

  “You’re too tall for the sofa and just because you’re used to the floor, it doesn’t mean you have to sleep there.”

  “But you...”

  “I can sleep tomorrow if I find the sofa too uncomfortable. Jeanne and Madame Gilbert would expect me to sleep late after a visit from you. Please, John, allow me to have my way in this at least.”