Page 52 of A Secret Infatuation
“Sophia, it’s you. Come, you are just the person needed.”
Mystified, she followed Dorothea into the drawing room, where Evo sat crosswise to Miles, leaning in and explaining something to him with uncharacteristic gravity. As soon as he saw Sophia, he got to his feet. “You’ll never guess what mischief Cunningworth has been up to.”
To hear Robert’s name while still reeling from what had happened was like pressing on a wound. Sophia advanced into the room, her eyes on him. “What is it?”
“He is rounding up accusations against Mr. Harwood because of his jealousy. He wanted to marry you, and apparently you have turned him down. I must say, that is good of you.”
“How…how do you know all of this?” Sophia felt like she was wandering through a fog of confusion.
Miles had waited until Sophia was seated before resuming his own, and he now prodded Evo. “Perhaps you had best start with the mischief.”
“It has been so dreadfully dull here. I couldn’t bear just sitting in the house and kicking my heels, so I’ve been borrowing the key to Grosvenor Park, or slipping into it when others enter. I found a tree there that I climbed when no one was in sight. I didn’t intend to eavesdrop, but the branches hid me perfectly and no one thought to look up. It’s how I knew you liked Mr. Harwood, for I heard you tell Marie.”
“Everard!” Sophia gasped, horrified, her mind racing back to that conversation as she struggled to remember precisely what she had said. She knew her face was crimson, for she felt it burning in embarrassment.
“I have given him a rare trimming,” Dorothea said firmly before gesturing to their brother. “Go on.”
“The people who sat on the bench underneath the tree never had any idea I was there.” He shook his head. “You should hear some of the things those gudgeons say when trying to woo a lady. It’s astonishing they are not repulsed from the outset.”
“We were not talking about that,” Dorothea said, cutting him short with another reproving look. Then she turned to address Sophia. “As reprehensible as Evo’s actions are, he has provided us with some invaluable insight in this instance. He wasted no time in sending off a note for Miles and me to come. Tell her.”
“I climbed the tree again this morning and was trying to see if I could drop twigs and hit my target without people looking up to see where it had come from. Cunningworth walked by with that chap Perkins. And there was another fellow with him whose name I don’t know. They stopped under the tree to blow a cloud?—”
“Mind your speech,” Dorothea said gently.
“It was good they stopped, so I could hear what they said,” he went on, ignoring the interruption. “Cunningworth began by saying that he had never been more shocked in his life when some fellow at White’s declared that Harwood was accepting bribe money. The other fellow under the tree—not Perkins—said he guessed it was nothing more than idle gossip. But Robert said it could not be. That he’d had his eyes set on purchasing a house in Russell Square, and that Harwood, who should not have had the money, purchased it from under his nose.”
“Perhaps he has an inheritance we know nothing about,” Sophia said. Her defense was automatic, but her heart was torn between pleasure that he should be in the position to purchase a house and fears that what Robert said was true.
“The other fellow said the same—Grantly, I think Perkins called him. He doesn’t appear to view Harwood as a villain. But Cunningworth would have nothing to do with it. Said that he had bewitched you”—Evo brought his eyes to Sophia—“so that you would not hear his suit. That even Harwood’s father was involved in scandal. Said he was going to ruin the family, but I like Harwood better than I could ever like Robert.”
Miles exchanged a glance with Dorothea, and she swiveled in her chair to face Sophia. “This is the first we are hearing of your confession to Marie,” she began with delicacy. “But after sending us a note to come, Evo did seem to think there might be some understanding between you and Mr. Harwood. I do not wish to pry, but is there anything you wish to tell us on the matter?”
Sophia went still as she thought carefully. Did she tell everyone assembled that she loved Felix? No, she could not do so, nor did they have an understanding. Or, at least, even if they were about to have one, he had not been able to finish his sentence.
“I esteem Mr. Harwood. I don’t believe he would do any of the things he was accused of. If there is any way we might clear his name, I am in support of it.”
Miles nodded with a look that declared him satisfied. “I will speak to Rock. He has more sway than I ever will, particularly in the Lords, where Lord Chawleigh has a seat. Perhaps he can find out more on the matter, but he can definitely spread seeds of truth until they take root.”
“Thank you.” Sophia clasped her hands, then glanced at Evo, who was examining the toes of his boots. “And thank you,” she added, causing him to look up at her in surprise. “Despite your reprehensible behavior, which I do hope you will grow out of…I’m glad that you wish to defend Mr. Harwood. I believe him to be an honorable man.”
“At least he does not prose on at a fellow,” the earl replied.
After his confrontation with Robert, Felix abandoned the idea of visiting his newly purchased house and retired to his rented rooms. Rather than celebrating his hoped-for victory of having laid claim to Sophia’s heart, he was in his rooms licking his wounds. He was far from easy about Robert’s threat of having sent his so-called proof to the gossip sheets. Felix would face backlash in Society over these rumors, even if they were not true. His only consolation was that his own behavior was above reproach.
However, knowing he was free from blame did not heal the letdown of having been obliged to watch Sophia leave without first being able to convince her of his innocence. The episode had affected her, so he did not impose his continued presence upon her. Nor could he go to her now, as much as he longed to; he had to clear his name first. That night, he was in no position to do so. He would need to evaluate the fallout from the gossip sheets and the precise nature of what he was facing.
The next day he went to the public dining room, where he picked up a copy of the Morning Post and sat down to face the worst. Was he imagining it or were people staring at him? He flipped to the last page and skimmed the paragraphs until he found the one he had hoped not to see.
A certain youthful member of Parliament has lately acquired his seat through the persuasion of a certain reform-minded admiral. Lauded a rising star in the Ministry of All the Talents, he delivers affecting speeches on the need for merit-based appointments and support for widows of seamen who have taken part in the recent heroic action in Spain. However, one cannot be convinced that all of his efforts are disinterested, for his recent displays of wealth foil such naivete. Let us hope that the money collected will reach its proper objects…
The blood drained out of Felix’s face as he set the newspaper down. It was worse than he could have imagined. Why, even last week, he had spoken about the widows’ petitions in a committee, promising to bring them to the House that very week. No one would believe him now. The noise around him became an incomprehensible din, and he recognized the laughter and whispers directed his way.
He had to leave here. The only thing he could think to do was to visit his father, though he had told him and Megs he would come for dinner. Felix stood, just as a servant approached, carrying a letter.
“This has just arrived for you, sir.”
“Thank you.” Felix glanced down and saw that the seal belonged to Lord Chawleigh and resigned himself to the inevitable. He slit the seal and spread open the papers.
