Page 55 of Lady Sophia's Lover
Ross came from behind his desk and tried to put his arms around her, but she gently repelled the attempt. “The best thing I could do for you,” she said, “is to disappear.”
His long fingers clamped around her upper arms, and he moved her in a soft shake. “Sophia, look at me,” he demanded urgently. A sharp note, like anger or fear, entered his voice. “Look at me, dammit! If you disappeared, I would find you. No matter how fast or how far you went. So put that thought out of your head.”
Staring dazedly into his piercing gray eyes, she nodded while her mind buzzed with miserable speculation.
“Now promise me,” he went on tersely, “that while I’m gone today, you will not do anything foolish. Stay here, and when I return we will sort things out. All right?” When she didn’t respond, he lifted her until her toes barely touched the floor. “All right?” he repeated in a meaningful tone.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I’ll wait for you.”
Chapter 13
With Ross gone for the day, there was little Sophia could do in the office, so she decided to take inventory of the kitchen larders. The new information about her brother and his tainted past was unexpected and sickening; she could hardly think straight. She went about her tasks mechanically, feeling defeated and weary, until finally something jolted her from the numbness.
A foul smell emanated from the slate shelf of the wet larder, and Sophia gasped in disgust as she searched for the source of the odor. “My God, what is that?” she asked. Eliza hobbled to the door of the larder to watch her.
It did not take long for Sophia to discover that the putrid smell belonged to a salmon that was long past its prime. “We could soak it in vinegar and limewater,” Eliza suggested hesitantly. “That will take away most of the smell—if it’s not too far gone, that is.”
Sophia gagged as she threw a cloth over the slimy mess and lifted it from the shelf. “Eliza,nothingcould salvage this fish. ‘Far gone’ is a distant memory…it is foul from head to tail.”
“Here, I’ll wrap it,” the cook-maid muttered, fetching a day-old newspaper. Expertly she bound the salmon until its odor was safely smothered.
Sophia watched her with annoyance. “Lucie bought the fish at Lannigan’s only this morning, didn’t she?”
Eliza nodded. “He told her it was fresh.”
“Fresh!” Sophia exclaimed with a cynical snort.
“I’ll have her take it back, then.” Eliza frowned. “Except that I sent her out to fetch nasturtium seeds for pickling.”
“I will take it back myself,” Sophia said decisively, knowing that Eliza’s knee was not sufficiently healed to allow for a walk to the fishmonger’s shop. She welcomed the opportunity to exercise her legs and perhaps clear her mind. “I have a few things to say to Mr. Lannigan. How dare he send such a poor excuse of a salmon to Sir Ross’s household!”
“Miss Sydney, I think you will have to wait. Ernest can’t go with you, as he has gone about some errands for Sir Grant.”
“I will go alone, then. It isn’t far, and I will return before anyone knows I’ve been away.”
“But Sir Ross has said many times that you are always to take a companion when you go out. If anything happens to you…” Eliza nearly shuddered.
“Nothing will happen to me. It’s not as if I am venturing into a rookery. I am merely visiting the fishmonger.”
“But Sir Ross—”
“You let me handle Sir Ross,” Sophia murmured as she went to fetch her bonnet.
Faced with Sophia’s righteous indignation, and her reminders of all that Sir Ross had done for him in the past, Mr. Lannigan was full of apologies. “’Twas a mistake,” he mumbled in his thick Cockney accent, his gaze chasing all around the shop to avoid hers. Embarrassment mottled his meaty face. “Why, I newer would send a salmon what’s gawn awf to Bow Street! To try an’ chisel Sir Ross…why, I’d be off me nob to do such a thing, wouldn’ I?” His expression lightened as a possible explanation occurred to him. “’Twas that feather ’eaded Lucie…she took thewrong fish,she did!”
“Well, then,” Sophia replied crisply, “I would like to exchange it for the correct fish, please.”
“Yes, miss.” Taking the paper-wrapped package from her, he sped with alacrity to the back of the shop, muttering to himself. “Only the best for Sir Ross, that’s whot I allus say…”
While she waited for the new salmon to be wrapped, Sophia became aware of a minor commotion outside the shop. Curious, she went to the small, thick-paned window and watched as an excited crowd gathered around the entrance of the building across the street.
“I wonder what they are looking at.”
Lannigan answered with a note of something that sounded oddly like pride. “Gentry’s on the ’unt again.”
“Nick Gentry?” Sophia glanced over her shoulder at the fishmonger, her brows lifting in surprise. “He is trying to capture someone, you say?”
Lannigan smoothed out a rectangle of brown paper and laid the fish reverently at one end. “Like a fox, Gentry is—the cleverest an’ mos’ fleet-footed thief-taker since Morgan, an’ that’s the truf.” Expertly he tucked the fish neatly into its paper casing.
