Page 26 of Love’s Refrain at Roslyn Court (Noble Hearts #2)

Twenty-Six

SOPHIA

W e have, until now, suffered fatigue, blisters, and misery, as well as unexpected moments of beauty and delight. I suspect that soon, however, we will see real fighting. Not the surprised group of Frenchmen I wrote of before, but a march under the command of Wellington himself.

It is only rumour, but Hollimore will not deny it, and I suspect there is truth to it, which you, safe in England, will likely learn long before this letter reaches you.

We are, they say, to move across the Agueda River to advance on Salamanca, from where the French are said to have withdrawn their defences.

If this is more rumour, I cannot say. Still, we are at the Rear of the army, and are unlikely to bear much risk in this endeavour, should it transpire.

It is said that Salamanca is quite imposing, with bell towers and cupolas, and a grand cathedral that, please G-d, we will be permitted to explore once we have taken the city.

I hope to send more drawings home with this letter, which Hollimore says can be included with the packet going out tomorrow.

Your loving son and brother, and cousin

Henry

What a strange evening it had been! Sophia hardly knew where to look, what to think.

After that dreadfully long day, she had somehow managed to keep her head through the dinner and the unwelcome encounter with John Bladestock, but then her strength had failed her.

Despite her every intention to seek Isaac out right then, she had stumbled in the hallway as she left the room, and one of the footmen, merely trying to do his job, had alerted her aunt.

She had then been all but dragged into the salon where the ladies were gathered while the men sat at their port after dinner, where she was subjected to a barrage of well-meaning comments about her poor looks and weakened state.

“Your complexion is not what it should be, dear,” one of her aunt’s friends crooned. “So pale and waxy.”

“Sit up straight. You will never attract a man with that poor posture.”

“What is wrong with your eyes? They seem red.”

“You are remarkably slow of conversation tonight.”

And so it went, until her aunt pushed the others out of the way to assess her with a critical eye.

“You are looking peaky, Sophia. You must have worked yourself too hard. You really ought to have taken more time to sleep. Well, we cannot have you sitting around all dull and listless. You must rest. Yes, yes, I know we have so many delightful people on their way, but it will not do for them to see you like this. Foolish girl.”

“I will go to my room, then, aunt, and come down when I am revived.” Perhaps she could look for Isaac on the way.

But that hope was curtailed at once.

“Your room? No, that will never do. The servants will talk. Perhaps the library… no. Nor the music room, for we might well need it, and you cannot lie down at all.” Then, as if struck by a revelation, Lady Poole sat up and crowed, “I have it! The very thing. That little cottage will do. You can leave through the glass doors, and all will think you are merely taking a stroll outside before the guests all arrive. La! I shall help you there myself. It is the very place for you.”

Within moments, they were underway, Sophia being all but dragged to the great salon, through the glass doors leading to the beautiful gardens, and across to the woods where the cottage stood just within the canopy of trees.

“There is that comfortable chair, Sophia. Or better, that little sofa. You can take your rest here, until you are quite ready to join us for the evening’s events.”

And despite her desperate need to find Isaac, Sophia’s exhaustion won out. Within moments of lying on the sofa, wrapped in the old and soft blanket, her eyes dragged themselves closed, and she knew no more.

She did not even dream. It was as if time ceased to exist.

That is, until Isaac himself had crashed through the cottage door and raised the alarm.

In that moment, her entire world had been turned on its head, and maybe, just maybe, happiness was in sight! The next few minutes would determine her future, and she could only pray she had the right measure of things.

She had to take her chance, and that chance would be now.

With her thoughts awhirl, she pulled Isaac behind her, through the trees of the woods and down to the lake, and then along the path to the bench where they had sat on one of their first encounters.

But she did not sit; no, indeed, she could not, for her agitation forbad her from taking such ease, and instead, she paced in small circles, hands fussing at her sides, never taking her eyes off him.

His own face likely mirrored hers. His eyes were wide with questions and the terrified hope of something he could not name, and his mouth hung slightly open, although whether in wonder or confusion she could not tell.

“I need to tell you?—!”

“I can be silent no longer?—!”

They spoke at the same time, chests heaving with emotion, and then both laughed, breaking the brittle tension that hovered in the air.

Sophia took a deep breath and launched into speech once more.

“I had an interview with John Bladestock…”

“I know,” Isaac replied. His eyes, if anything, grew wider.

“He offered for me and I refused him.”

“But your aunt?—”

“Yes, it was my aunt’s promise of a healthy dowry that spurred him, but I believe his wish was sincere.

No, do not fret. I turned him down because I do not love him, and he does not love me.

We both deserve love. But he told me something, something so important I wonder that I never understood it before.

He told me that I need to love myself first. I had thought I would never marry because of my parents.

It is no secret that my mother is wanton, that my father took his own life because of his debts.

But they are not me. I am my own person, and if somebody wishes to share my life, I should not refuse them the choice.

I must not reject the possibility of love. ”

Her feet stilled and she found herself standing there, bathed in the moonlight, arms extended at her sides and hands turned out in supplication. Isaac said nothing, but also stood perfectly still now, inches from her, staring at her with a stunned expression.

She had come this far. She had to continue.

Her breath came in small pants and her heart throbbed in her chest as if it would break free and shatter into a thousand pieces.

All she could see now was him, his eyes, wide and beautiful, pulling her into their depths, and the stars above him that seemed to cloak him in a magical mantle. Now was the time.

She took another breath and let the words out in a great rush, before she could stop herself.

“It is not the done thing. I know this, and if I were in better control of myself, I would remain silent. But if you are determined to leave, I cannot let you go without telling you that I love you. There. I have said it. I love you. Despise me now, if you wish. I cannot wish that unsaid.”

He was silent.

He stood there, jaw loose, immobile.

Oh heavens, what had she done?

But then, at once, he blinked and that mouth widened into a glorious smile that rivalled all the stars in the sky.

“I was looking for you everywhere. I needed to find you, to warn you about your aunt’s scheme, but also to tell you that I love you.

I realised, when I learned that Bladestock was going to speak to you, that I could not bear to lose you without a fight.

I have also been rejecting the hope of love, because I thought no one could love me. ”

“No… That is not true!” Sophia blurted. “You are everything!”

“I am a shell of a man. I cannot sleep through the night without horrors tormenting me in my dreams. I am beset by this darkness that threatens me at every moment. I turn into a quivering wreck at the slightest noise or memory. I am weak, and I thought no woman should be forced to live with my failings.”

Sophia took a small step forward, bringing her close enough to take his hands in hers. That same delicious ripple of fire shot through her veins, and she clasped them tighter.

“You are correct. No woman should be forced to live with you…”

His face fell, but she continued.

“No woman should be forced to live with you, but one might choose to do so. By refusing to consider love, you force that woman onto another path, one not of her choosing.”

“Then…” He started speaking, but his voice choked up.

Now gripping her hands as firmly as she was holding his, he pulled them together and brought them to his heart as he gazed at her.

“You are my sunlight, Sophia. I thought I had lost all hope of joy, but then I found it in you. You bring me peace, you ease my spirit. Your music calms my soul when it is most troubled, and I cannot imagine life without you. Can you see your way to marrying this wreck before you?”

Tears flooded her eyes, but now they were tears of joy.

“I see no wreck. I see a man who has experienced terrible things, but who is every bit the person I wish to be with every day of my life. If I can soothe you and ease your mind, I will see it as a privilege, not a chore. So no, I will not marry the wreck, but I will marry the hero I know you are.”

“You will?” Awe filled his voice.

“I will.”

With great reverence now, he brought her hands up to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to her fingers, one at a time, his eyes not leaving hers.

“I love you,” he whispered, and let her hands go at last.

She did not lower them, but now stepped forward that last half step, until she could move no more, and wrapped her arms about his strong shoulders, pulling him close to her. Oh, how wonderful he felt, his tall body pressed against hers, his heart beating against hers, his cherished face so close.

She looked up at him and smiled, and he answered the only way a man in love can be expected to.

They stood there for a long time, kissing in the moonlight on the shores of this beautiful lake.

They had found their peace and happiness at last.