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

  “What do you believe he has done?” she asked flatly.

  “No decent person will tell you.”

  How could John have done something so terrible that it could not be spoken of? It was John who had visited her every day when he was in London and read to her when she had broken her arm falling from a tree she had climbed to prove to him that she was not afraid. He had given her a puppy when her mother had left home in an effort to console her. At balls he had always been available to dance with her when she was at a loss for a partner. He had written to her when he was away at school and university. She had thought she knew him, until the day he proposed.

  “No,” she said, “whatever they say is not true.”

  “Your loyalty does you credit, but your lack of sense does not.”

  Sophia turned away, certain that however much John might have changed, he was still the boy who had tried to protect her from all the ills of the world. Her only mistake in understanding his character was in not recognising the nature of his love until it was too late.

  John had been in Brussels for a week and had managed to avoid Sophia. He had recovered his horse from Edmund, waiting until he had seen Sophia leave the house with Franz to do so. They had made a striking couple. John was not surprised to find that he was jealous; it was jealousy of Edmund that had driven him to the ill-considered proposal that had resulted in Sophia’s rejection of him. He had wondered about what had been going on in that household since he had realised that Franz was going to live here with them. All the way from Paris he had considered the possible relationships. Having convinced himself that Sophia and Edmund were lovers, he had then examined the possibility that she entertained Franz or both men. These thoughts exhausted him and it was only when he was sitting with Edmund and his wife that he realised how foolish he had been. The Finches were clearly devoted to one another. When they spoke of Sophia, Edmund reiterated his responsibility for her. Sophia’s father had put her into his care and he felt it keenly. John was not sure how it was conveyed, but he came away with the impression that Edmund was also protecting Sophia from Franz. Watching them together, John had been able to read the Prussian’s intentions towards Sophia by the way he walked beside her. Trying to tell himself that he had no right to be jealous if Sophia chose Franz, he had nonetheless been pleased when she had changed her step to put more distance between them.

  He had watched as they walked towards the park together, Sophia’s hand neatly tucked into Franz’s elbow. They were laughing and smiling at one another as if they had no care in the world. Even in the week since his arrival he had heard about Miss Arbuthnot the flirt. At first he had been taken aback, then he had realised that Sophia had chosen her method of getting close to men with information. Her name was linked most often with that of Franz, but there was also a young army captain and a man known for his gambling debts. Neither of these gave him cause for concern, only the Prussian.

  It was his own fault that he was in this position. No one had forced him to do what he had done. When he had hidden in the shadows to catch a glimpse of Sophia as she left Paris, he had decided that seeing her without being able to talk to her was too painful, but his will had proved weak since he had arrived in Brussels. He was constantly finding himself in places from which he could see her without being seen, which meant he saw her frequently in the company of the Prussian spy. He doubted calling Franz out would improve his reputation and Sophia would be better off with the Prussian, if she loved him. John thought it probable that she did not and would not. He had seen her in love and she had made her preference for Edmund clear from the start. For more than a year she had sought out his company and hung on his every word. On the whole he thought she was not in love with Franz.

  After a week it had been impossible not to join in with the social life that Brussels offered. Although there were many other ways he would have preferred to spend his evenings, John knew that a diplomat’s job was to meet and influence people, so he had accepted the invitation to Lady Dornow’s ball. He had arrived early, standing in the street so that he could watch the other guests arrive. Satisfied that Sophia was not among them, he had finally entered the house.

  The ballroom was already hot and stuffy when he arrived. He made no effort to find a partner, but stood watching a quadrille. As the dance and the music ended he became aware of raised voices nearby.

  “There is no need for you to leave.”

  “There is every need if you’re staying.”

  Sophia! John turned and went back to the entrance hall. There he saw Sophia trying to get away from an older woman who was holding on to her arm.

  “Miss Arbuthnot, may I be of assistance?”

  He spoke without thinking. Protecting her was as natural as breathing.

  Sophia turned towards him and he was gratified by the relief he saw on her face.

  “John... Captain Warren. Would you escort me home? My mother wishes to detain me.”

  Her mother! John gave his attention to the other woman. His memories of Mrs Arbuthnot were vague; he could not even remember whether he had liked her or not. Whatever his feelings for her had been, they were blurred by his hatred at what she had done to Sophia.

  “Of course. Mrs Arbuthnot, I doubt if you remember me, but my name is John Warren.”

  Mrs Arbuthnot laughed.

  “Captain Warren? Sophia, you are a fool if you look for safety with the man who has the worst reputation in Brussels.”

  Damn! In his haste to help her he had forgotten what he had done and why he must avoid Sophia. It could not be helped. Edmund could repair the damage to Sophia’s reputation. Greater damage to Sophia herself would be done if he left her here with her mother.

  “John has always been my protector, even before you deserted us.”

  “Sophia, is something wrong?”

  The tall Prussian stood beside him, ignoring John as if he were not there.

  “It’s alright, Franz. John is going to take me home.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “I don’t care what you think. I’m going to leave with John.”

  “Do you have a shawl, shoes?” John asked her.

  “No, we came in a carriage, but I can walk in these and the evening is not cold.”

  He hesitated; he had thought she could at least wait for the carriage. He had himself disdained the use of a carriage and come on horseback.

  “Then let us go.”

  He took a step closer.

  “You will not tarnish my daughter’s reputation,” hissed Mrs Arbuthnot.

  “I’m going to walk her to the Finches’ house. It will take five minutes.”

  “You gave up the right to have any say about my friends and acquaintances when you left me,” said Sophia, shaking her mother’s hand off her arm.

  “I agree with your mother,” said Franz quietly.

  “And you have never had that right.”

  John recognised the bright pink spots on her cheeks that meant she was angry. She had not been angry with her mother, afraid, perhaps, but not angry. It was Franz who had really upset her.

  “Sophia...”

  “No, I don’t care to hear it. I have told you before that John is my friend.”

  “A true friend would not harm your reputation in this way.”

  Had he had a few more moments to consider, John would have acknowledged that the other man was correct. Sophia was, however, very upset and John knew that he had to get her away before she started to cry. She was prone to crying when words failed her and she would thank neither of them for leaving her to cry in front of her mother and the small crowd of onlookers that was starting to gather.

  “Come, Sophia, take my arm and I will have you home in a few minutes.”

  Sophia took his proffered arm and leaned on it heavily. John did not bother to collect his hat; that could wait until Sophia was safe. They left the house and walked in silence for a while and Sophia forced him to slow down.

  “
Why didn’t you go back to England?” he asked. “Did you have to come here, knowing that you would meet her?”

  “I still have much to do.”

  “But is it worth so much sorrow?”

  “I think it is.”

  They fell silent again. John could still remember finding her in the garden of her father’s house a few days after the scandal about Mrs Arbuthnot had broken. John’s mother had insisted on taking her older children to visit as they had so often in the past. Both John and Sophia had been too young to know about the scandal; all they knew was that Mrs Arbuthnot had left and was not coming back. The house was in uproar. Elizabeth, the eldest girl, had stood red-eyed and pale-faced beside her father as the Warrens were received. Lady Caroline had suggested that Lizzie go and play with the Warren boys, but Lizzie had understood enough to know that at nine she was now mistress of her father’s house and she was going to fulfil that rôle to the best of her abilities. John had gone searching for Sophia. She had shared her sister’s red eyes and pale face and her face and clothing were streaked with dirt, for she had chosen to express her grief up a tree. John had joined her and, with a tenderness that he had not then understood, held her until she had cried herself out and fallen asleep. It had been weeks before she was able to express her anger and her distress at being left behind by the mother she had adored. John suspected that she had not shared these thoughts with anyone else.

  “I’m sorry that Franz couldn’t just let us leave.”

  How like Sophia to apologise for someone else’s actions when she was the one most injured by them.

  “He’s protective of you.”

  “No, he’s not. He wants to impress me. Like all the others, he wants to seduce me. You’re the only one who wants to protect me.”

  “You have certainly given me many opportunities over the years.”

  “And you have borne it well.”

  “We were friends for many years.”

  Sophia stopped walking and turned to face him. John was not sure how he managed not to take her into his arms and kiss her. Perhaps because it would make him like all the other would-be seducers.

  “Are we no longer friends, then? I know I have lost your love, but I could not bear to lose your friendship.”

  John hesitated, but he had never lied to Sophia.

  “You have lost neither.”

  It was said; he had told her that he loved her.

  “Thank you. I deserve nothing and you give me everything.”

  There was not enough moonlight for him to see the expression on her face, or for her to see his, but her fingers tightened on his arm. He placed his hand over hers. He longed to kiss her, but her own feelings for him were still unknown. That was probably for the best.

  “You deserve everything...” John stopped; he knew he could not go further. He was harming her reputation just by standing here in the street with her.

  “Come, Sophia, I should get you home.”

  Reluctantly he started walking again.

  “I don’t know what to do about Mother. We meet far too often.”

  He was glad for the change of subject, but this was almost as dangerous. They should not meet at all. The woman must be incredibly thick-skinned to continue to force herself onto her daughter, especially in public.

  “I’m surprised she’s invited out.”

  “They lived very quietly for a while and when they came here they pretended to be married. Very few people knew otherwise. It was only as more people came from England in the last few months that some remembered that she is still married to my father and then people gossiped.”

  “Customs might be different here, but I expect the invitations will dry up soon.”

  He hoped so. The longer Mrs Arbuthnot was in society, the more harm she would do to Sophia.

  “I have recently been remembering how kind you were to me after she left.”

  “That was when I first knew I loved you. Or rather, it was when I knew that the love I bore you was different to that which I had for my parents or my brothers. It was not the love of a man for a woman, not then, but I knew that there would be happiness in looking after you.”

  Sophia stopped walking again and John looked away so that she could not see his face. They were in a patch of moonlight so bright that she would see his pain and Sophia was too kind to want him to suffer.

  “I’m sorry I was so cruel.”

  Her voice was little more than a whisper.

  “You were never cruel,” he protested.

  “When I turned you down, I was cruel then.”

  “I was clumsy.”

  “You were, but you were my friend. You deserved more.”

  Reluctantly he turned back to her, afraid of what she was going to entrust to him. They were in full moonlight now and he could not look at her face. Sophia had never hidden her feelings from him and he did not think she was going to start now, but he was afraid of what she was going to say. He did not know what he would do if she told him she still loved Edmund after all. He had seen no sign of it, but he had learned to dissemble and so could she.

  He took a breath, admitted it to himself and then said it.

  “You were in love.”

  “Was I?”

  She sounded as if she were crying, but he could not risk finding out. If he knew, he would have to comfort her. If he comforted her, he would have to hold her. If he held her…

  John ground his teeth as he struggled to control himself. Then he realised what she had said.

  “You didn’t love Edmund?”

  He was sure she had. He had seen it on her face every time they had met. Edmund had been the only thing she had wanted to talk about, until she had not wanted to talk to John at all.

  “He took me seriously. No one else wanted to know my opinion about anything, not even you.”

  “I knew your opinion about everything. Just as you knew mine.”

  “I was flattered by his attention, even though I sought out his company. I kissed him once.”

  “Did you?”

  John forced his clenched fist to relax; she had not said that Edmund had kissed her. Despite himself he found himself looking at her face. As he had suspected, her eyes were wet, but her lips curved up in the gentle smile he loved so much.

  “That was when I realised that he just considered me a silly little girl.”

  John doubted Edmund had ever thought that. Even as a child Sophia had been old beyond her years.

  “You must have been upset when he married someone even younger than you.”

  This was clumsy, but he was beyond thought now.

  “No. They were in love. It has done me good to be with them. I have learned what a marriage should be from them. Your parents were the only couple I knew well enough to study and they’re very reserved.”

  John managed to turn his surprised response into a cough. This was the kind of entirely inappropriate conversation he remembered having with Sophia. She was utterly without embarrassment in her pursuit for information, at least with him. It was like her to want to study a marriage in preparation for her own.

  He allowed her to steer the conversation away from her feelings. He had already gone too far in confiding his own.

  “They’re only reserved in public,” he said.

  He had always assumed that he had learnt enough from his parents for both of them. Sophia was not someone who kept her passion private, but he could have made her happy; he was certain of it.

  “I suppose Edmund and Mary are as well. Sometimes I come into a room and they jump apart as if they have just been kissing.”

  This was a dangerous subject, thought John as he looked down at her lips. For ten years he had driven himself mad wondering what it would be like to kiss them.

  “Uncle Edmund has always been considered an overly passionate man by my family.”

  Edmund had never bothered to hide his love for his first wife in public and it did not surprise John that he continued in the same way with
Mary. Naturally that was the kind of marriage that Sophia would want. It was not the kind of marriage she would have had with him. Like his parents, he did not display his passion to the world, only to Sophia. He unclenched his fists again. Whatever kind of marriage she was to have, it would be with another man.

  “They’re very happy,” said Sophia wistfully.

  “I must get you home.”

  It was no longer simply the risk to her reputation. If they stood here talking together for much longer, he was certain he would lose all control and kiss her. She would be ruined and he could not, would not marry her.

  “Will you ever tire of looking after me?”

  “No.”

  “How long have you been in Brussels?”

  “A week.”

  “You collected your horse, yet you didn’t call on me.”

  “No,” he agreed, “I didn’t call on you.”

  Her arm brushed his as she turned away from him and sniffed. In an effort to stop her crying in the street, John said, “Your mother was right in one thing. My reputation is worse than hers. It got here before I did. I won’t have you tarnished by it.”

  Somehow she was still unaware of his reputation. Had she known it, she would not have spoken to him or even looked at him. He tensed, waiting for the inevitable question, but it did not come. Sophia put her hand back on his arm.

  “Then let us walk quickly.”

  They set off again in silence. When they arrived at the house that Edmund had rented John expected to hand Sophia over to the footman who opened the door to them, but she insisted that he come in and speak to Edmund. They found him in the sitting-room nursing a glass of brandy. He looked as if he had slept little in the last few days.

  “John? Sophia? Is something wrong?”

  He stood unsteadily. John did not think he was drunk, just tired.