Lady Sophia's Lover (Bow Street Runners #2)(38)



Sophia knew she had to gather much more information if she wanted sufficient ammunition to destroy Ross and his runners. For the past three weeks, however, she had done nothing to further her goal. To her self-disgust, she did not have the heart for it. She no longer wanted to hurt Ross. She despised herself for her own weakness, but she could not bring herself to betray him. She had come to care deeply about him despite her efforts to avoid it. Which meant that her poor brother’s death would never be answered with justice, and his short life would therefore have no meaning at all.

Gloomily Sophia sorted through files until Ernest appeared suddenly and interrupted her labors. “Miss Sydney, Sir Ross wants ye.”

She stared at the errand boy with immediate worry. “Why?”

“I don’t know, miss.”

“Where is Sir Ross? Is he all right?”

“ ‘E’s in ’is office, miss.” The boy left in his customary haste, off to perform more errands.

Sophia’s stomach flipped with anxiety as she wondered if Ross had pushed himself too hard. It was possible that he had somehow ruptured his wound, or succumbed to fever once more, or exhausted himself with too much activity. She went to the office in a headlong rush, ignoring the startled faces of barristers and clerks she pushed by in the narrow hallway.

The door to the Chief Magistrate’s office was open. Sophia crossed the threshold with swift strides. Ross was sitting at his desk, looking pale and a bit tired, his gaze lifting as he saw her. “Sophia, what—”

“I knew it was too soon for you to go back to work!” she exclaimed as she reached him. Impulsively she put her hands on him, feeling his forehead, the sides of his face. “Do you have fever? What is the matter? Has your shoulder started to bleed again, or is it—”

“Sophia,” he interrupted. His large hands wrapped around hers, his thumbs nestling in her soft palms. A reassuring smile touched his lips. “I’m fine. There is no need for concern.”

She stared at him closely, ascertaining for herself that he was all right. “Then why did you send for me?” she asked, bewildered.

Ross’s gaze moved to a point beyond her shoulder. To Sophia’s sudden consternation, she realized that they were not alone. Twisting, she glanced behind her and saw that Sir Grant was seated in the large leather visitor’s chair. The giant was watching the pair of them with startled interest. Sophia snatched her hands away from Ross’s and closed her eyes in humiliation.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered, wishing she could somehow disappear. “I—I overstepped my bounds, Sir Ross. Forgive me.”

He grinned at her embarrassment and spoke to Sir Grant. “Morgan, I have something to discuss with Miss Sydney.”

“Apparently so,” came Morgan’s dry rejoinder. He bowed briefly, his green eyes twinkling as he glanced at Sophia. The door closed behind him.

Sophia covered her reddened face with her hands. Her voice filtered between her stiff fingers. “Oh, what must he think of me?”

Ross came from behind the desk and stood before her. “No doubt he thinks that you are a kind and caring woman.”

“I am sorry,” she said again. “I did not realize that Sir Grant was here. I should not have come to you so impetuously, nor should I have… It’s just that I am in the habit of…”

“Of touching me?”

She squirmed in discomfort. “I have become too familiar with you. Now that you are well again, things must return to the way they were before.”

“I hope not,” he replied quietly. “I enjoy our familiarity, Sophia.” He reached for her, but Sophia stepped back hastily.

Averting her eyes, she asked in a subdued tone, “Why did you send for me?”

A long moment passed before he replied. “I’ve just received word from my mother of what she assures me is a great crisis in her household.”

“No one is ill, I hope?”

“I’m afraid it is far more serious than that,” he said sardonically. “It pertains to an upcoming birthday party she is giving for my grandfather.”

Perplexed, Sophia looked up into his dark face as he continued.

“Apparently my mother’s housekeeper, Mrs. Bridgewell, has suddenly gotten married. She had been seeing an army sergeant, who proposed to her when he learned that the regiment was soon to be moved to Ireland. Naturally Mrs. Bridgewell wished to accompany her new husband to his new post. The family wishes her well, but unfortunately, her absence occurs in the midst of preparations for my grandfather’s ninetieth birthday celebration.”

“Oh, dear. When will the event take place?”

“In precisely a week.”

“Oh, dear,” Sophia said again, remembering from the great household she had worked at in Shropshire that such large festivities required meticulous planning and near-flawless execution. Food, flowers, guest accommodations… there would be an overwhelming mass of work involved. Sophia pitied the underservants who would be required to step in to manage things.

“Who will arrange things for your mother, then?”

“You,” Ross muttered with a scowl. “She wants you.

The family carriage is waiting outside. If you are willing, you are to leave for Berkshire at once.“

“Me?” Sophia was stunned. “But there must be someone else who can take Mrs. Bridgewell’s place!”

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