The Secrets of Sophia Musgrove Read online

  'Sophie, your dear father – who would rather die than think of you alone in the docks, or the park, by night – would be destroyed if you did such a thing,' Lucy said firmly. 'Would you really betray him in favour of this Mr Stevens, of no fixed abode? I have asked all over London for information on his background, but he is slippery, I can tell you,' she informed me.

  I was very tempted to say, What about your Mr Archer? Have you not checked up on him? but I knew that Lucy meant well: I did not wish to hurt her after all she had been through at the docks on my behalf.

  'I expect I will refuse,' I said, and then changed the subject to news of Estella. Her latest letter, which had arrived that very morning, worried me greatly. 'Estella sounds nothing like herself in her letters, Lucy,' I told my friend. 'Listen to this:

  "I fear I am not pretty any longer. Percy seems to detest me at times, but as you know, Sophie dear, my ways are very annoying, are they not? Remember how I used to annoy you?"

  Lucy was shocked. 'She sounds very low! How alarming!' she said. 'Estella could not be less annoying.'

  'I know,' I agreed. 'I think Mr Dovetail is cruel to her. He is truly insufferable!'

  'Oh, dear, we long to be married, but then it can be so disagreeable, can't it?' Lucy sighed. 'What a worry! Perhaps you should go and visit her.'

  I nodded. I was so full of my own concerns that I could not bear the thought of leaving London just yet. But Lucy was right. My sister needed me. I shall go after the march, I decided. I must.

  But at dinner that evening it transpired that Papa had already conceived a plan for me to visit my sister – and sooner than I had intended.

  'Sophia, I will not lie to you,' he began. 'I am worried about your interest in political affairs. Such things should not concern you. You should be busying yourself with cross-stitch and the pianoforte, as Estella has always done – and yet I have heard that you intend to march through the city in support of the anti-slavery lobby! Such an event is no place for a young lady. You should be ashamed of yourself for even considering indulging in such unladylike behaviour. Can it be true that you planned to march with such radicals?' he asked.

  'I have been asked to attend, it is true. But I cannot think who would give you this information,' I said, trying to remain calm, despite my anger at his insulting attitude.

  'My source is confidential,' Papa replied cagily, as though he had promised someone that he would not blurt out their name, but I guessed at once that it must be Mr Hughes. He had already seen fit to tell tales on me once. In fact, all the squabbling with my father had begun after Mr Hughes had told him that I was at the debate in the Palace of Westminster. How I hated that interfering busybody! 'I am not ashamed of myself, Papa,' I continued. 'Far from it. Someone in this family has to do something to defend the rights of those suffering people that the government of this country treats with such disregard. I've seen you talk about helping these people, but nothing changes, and you could do so much more. I don't know how you can sleep at night. You always taught me to be kind to others. Indeed, I am ashamed of you !' I blurted out.

  'Sophia! You know nothing of my work. You should trust me to do the right thing, just as your mother has always done. Leave men's work to the men, child,' he said furiously. Then he sighed. 'I know not what foolish notions have taken over your mind, but of one thing I am sure – you will leave as soon as possible for Dovetail Hall to visit our dear Stella. God knows, I am worried sick about her too. I fear I may have to insist that both she and her husband come to stay with us.'

  Oh, dear Lord, Mr Dovetail in the household would finish me off, I thought, but of course I was just as worried about Estella as Papa. And as our family is rather more elevated than the Dovetails, I knew that he could insist on such an arrangement – which I would be more than happy to endure for dear Estella's sake.

  I knew there was no point in fighting my father any further. 'How long will I be gone, Papa?' I asked.

  'Three weeks,' he replied. Of course, he knew this meant I would miss the march.

  I was devastated – I felt I would be letting Marcus down. He didn't even know that I had risked my life at the docks to learn more about the slave trade. He would think I was feeble and cowardly. There was much that I wanted to explain to him, but what could I do? I lived under my father's roof and had no choice but to do as he said. And besides, some inner voice was telling me that my sister needed me too.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Mrs Willow, Lily and I made our way to Dovetail Hall in Oxfordshire one sunny morning a few days later. Sid drove us there, with Silverbell and Berry pulling us along. My beloved Cloud was resting in the mews as he was lame.

  When we reached Dovetail Hall, which was mercifully closer to London than Whistling Sparrows, we were met by an almost unrecognizable Estella. She looked thin and her movements were twitchy and nervous.

  'Come in, sister dear, and thank you for coming,' she said. When Mrs Willow hugged her, she held on for so long we thought she would never let go, and I saw that her eyes were red and swollen.

  'Now, now, Estella. You will tell Willow everything that is troubling you when we're settled. Agreed?' Mrs Willow always spoke of herself in the third person like that when she was trying to comfort us.

  At that, a voice boomed down from the stairwell: 'There is nothing to tell, Mrs Willow. My wife becomes over-emotional. I'm sure it is a characteristic you know well,' said Mr Dovetail.

  'Actually, no, Mr Dovetail. She seems very unlike herself to me,' retorted Mrs Willow tartly.

  I was delighted to see that she was not cowed by Mr Dovetail. He was unbearable. I put my arm around Estella and she told us that other guests were expected for a house-party weekend, with salons, dinners and country walks.

  'Oh, how jolly,' I said, trying my best to cheer her up. 'Who is coming?'

  'Some of the people who attended our wedding,' she replied. 'The main one you will know is Mr Dovetail's old soldiering companion and Lord Sandford's cousin, Mr Hughes. He's so very dashing, isn't he, Sophie?'

  My face froze. 'He's . . . supposed to be, yes,' I mumbled, wondering how on earth I was going to get through this ordeal. I recovered my cheerful expression as quickly as I could for my sister's benefit, but my first clear thought once I was settled in my room was to write to Marcus.

  Dovetail Hall

  Banbury

  Oxfordshire

  22nd June 1803

  Dear Mr Stevens,

  I have left London on an urgent family matter and regret that I will not be able to attend the march, even though I had prepared for it well by visiting the African Lady at East India Docks. You may be assured that it is only a matter beyond my control that prevents me joining the march. I am still considering the other matter regarding the documents and will come to a decision soon.

  I look forward to our next meeting. I feel at my happiest when I am with you.

  Yours sincerely,

  Sophia Musgrove

  xxx

  Most of the guests arrived around midday and were served with a cold lunch. When afternoon tea was served at four o'clock, I sat on a plump brocade sofa in the day room, which is filled with chandeliers and candelabra and over-stuffed furniture. I sat next to a pleasant girl from Bath, called Susannah, and chatted about the Season for a while, but when she went to find her fiancé, the vacant spot on the sofa was filled by none other than Mr Hughes.

  I was still sure that he had told my father about the march, just as he had blabbed about seeing me at the slavery debate. He was a telltale, that was for sure. If only I had not mentioned it to him that day at Harvey's. Me and my temper! But I could not ignore him in such circumstances, and to tell him what I really thought of him would have been rude to Estella as our host. I felt that she had enough problems of her own, so I was forced to make painful conversation with him.

  'How are you, Miss Musgrove?' he enquired.

  'Quite well, thank you, Mr Hughes,' I responded curtly. There was a look of confusion on his
face at my response – no doubt he had no idea why I detested him so much, but I didn't care. I was furious and very worried about Marcus being disappointed in me.

  'How is your mother progressing in her confinement?' he enquired.

  'She is very tired,' I replied. 'We are looking forward to the delivery so that she may begin to recover her strength – and so that we may meet our new family member, of course.'

  'Yes, it is very exciting for you all,' he agreed.

  At that point we were interrupted by Mr Dovetail's cousin, Leonora Pink. She was wearing a pale lavender dress, in the new style, but it was very much fancier than those Lucy and I admired. It was covered with bows, pearls and ribbons, which she fiddled with incessantly. She is amazingly pretty, in a perfect, doll-like way, and yet there is a flatness to her presence somehow, as though she were a one-dimensional cut-out.

  She sat extremely close to Mr Hughes. 'I have been meaning to talk with you since the wedding,' she told him. 'Do you remember you said that you would teach me to aim with a bow and arrow? Well, Cousin Percy is setting up just such a sport on the lawn now. Would you come and show me how it's done?' she simpered.

  Ever the gentleman, Mr Hughes rose to escort her down to the lawn. What a relief! I thought. Leonora was doing me a huge favour by relieving me of the infuriating Mr Hughes.

  'Do come and join us, Miss Musgrove,' she said over her shoulder. 'If you are lucky, Mr Hughes will show you how it's done as well.'

  I didn't have much choice but to agree to join them presently, and to be honest, I thought it might be fun. My little brother, Harry, had taught me archery tricks during our long summers at the Daisy Park. I was sure I had a move or two up my sleeve to outshine the simpering Leonora Pink. And perhaps even Mr Hughes!

  When I went up to change into a more comfortable dress for the purposes of triumphing with the longbow, I complained to Lily about the detestable man.

  'Excuse me for saying so, but I think he's a very fine gentleman,' said Lily.

  'Lily, he is not, I can assure you. Do you know that he told my father about the slave trade march and has probably ruined my chances with Mr Stevens for ever? He meddles, Lily. I loathe him.'

  'Maybe it wasn't him who told your father,' suggested Lily.

  'Oh, it was him all right. No on else knew about it,' I insisted. When I was dressed in my plainest pale blue empire-cut gown with three-quarter-length sleeves, I brushed my wavy brown hair out loose.

  'You look like a medieval warrior princess, miss!' exclaimed Lily. 'You are one of those lucky girls who needs no ornaments to shine.'

  'Nonsense, Lily!' I said, but stole another quick look at myself anyway before leaving the bedroom.

  'Can I come and watch?' she asked.

  'Of course! You must hold my quiver of arrows!' I giggled. I marched down the stairs and out towards the garden as though heading for battle. Lily laughed as she followed on behind.

  'Good God! Here comes Boadicea!' said Mr Dovetail, on seeing my arrival. Estella giggled and clung to his arm, but he shook her off irritably.

  Meanwhile Leonora was insisting that Mr Hughes guide her arm through the process of firing.

  'Ooh, it's so violent!' she trilled.

  Mr Hughes swung round to greet me, leaving her to her own devices for a moment. Leonora immediately managed to drop the arrow, which skimmed past her foot, whereupon she wailed and cried out for a doctor. 'Really, Miss Musgrove. Can you not approach a gathering with a measure of decorum?' she complained as Mr Hughes helped her into a chair.

  'I did not mean to unsettle you, Miss Pink. I am so sorry,' I said. As a few of the other guests fussed around her, examining her foot, which was completely unscathed, I made my way over to the archery field.

  Leonora rapidly recovered her equilibrium when she saw me limbering up. 'I shall go first, if you please, Miss Musgrove!' she cried as she was helped back on to her dainty feet. 'Come, Mr Hughes,' she said. 'Help to guide me!'

  Mr Hughes advised her on the position of her arms and hands and she released a very respectable shot.

  There was a ripple of applause from the other guests. Leonora smiled a little smugly and motioned for me to step up to the mark.

  I was suddenly determined to beat her. I could not bear to be outdone by such a silly, self-satisfied creature! Lily wished me luck and handed me an arrow. I tried to recall all Harry's tips about closing one eye and aiming for the centre. I took a deep breath and felt the eyes of the assembled throng upon me as I took aim – and fired.

  Time seemed to stand still as I waited for the arrow to reach its destination. It wavered a little in the air and finally landed a long way off target. I was disappointed.

  There was a collective murmur of 'Bad luck!' but Leonora was now warming to the competition. 'Ooh, shall we make a match of it, Miss Musgrove? I seem to be getting the hang of this!' she crowed.

  'Very well,' I agreed with a smile, determined to do better on my next attempt.

  With Mr Hughes's assistance, Leonora brought off another fine shot.

  This time I concentrated harder and forced myself to block out all the distractions around me: the birds twittering, the chinking of china teacups and the low hum of conversation. Lily passed me an arrow and I took aim and released.

  This one was much better! Almost as good as Leonora's in fact. A proper match was underway, only she was being coached by Mr Hughes and I was all alone.

  She was a little ahead of me when it was time for the final shots, and the pressure was piled on us both.

  Leonora stepped up and prepared herself for the all-important shot by loosening her arms and neck. She smiled over at me before raising her bow, and I could tell that she already thought victory was hers.

  I could hardly bear to watch. The arrow flew through the air. It looked a little off, but it swung back in and made a respectable arrival at the target. Drat! I would have to do brilliantly to come out of this the victor.

  Leonora wandered around proudly, accepting congratulations on her shot as though she had already won the contest. I took a moment to eye up the target carefully and remind myself of Harry's tips on controlling my elbows. Finally I released the arrow and watched with the assembled crowd as it flew straight into the bull's eye.

  There was a huge cheer, especially from Lily.

  'What a shot!' called Estella proudly. 'Well done, Sophie!'

  I smiled over at Leonora and offered to shake her hand, but she looked away.

  'I think I have sunstroke!' she complained, and went to sulk in the shade of a parasol.

  'And now you, Mr Hughes,' I said, gesturing towards the target. 'It's your turn.'

  He grinned, took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, determined not to be outdone by a girl.

  With an intense look of concentration, he took aim and executed a perfect shot. Then another. And one more.

  'It looks like we are a match for one another, Miss Musgrove,' he said. 'Perhaps we should have a competition?'

  I grinned. 'Ah, but I would hate to embarrass you,' I told him, and with that I returned to the main house with Lily in tow. But I could feel Mr Hughes watching me all the way back across the lawn, perhaps with the flicker of a smile across his face. And I reflected that it was very hard to stay angry with such a likeable character.

  Chapter Sixteen

  My days at Dovetail Hall passed quietly after all the guests had departed. I hoped to receive a letter from Marcus, but day after day, nothing came. I worried that he was angry with me about missing the march, but I was finally rewarded with a delightful missive.

  1st July 1803

  My dear Miss Musgrove,

  I will miss you on the march. You are my inspiration now. What shall I do without you, sweetest? But do not fret. You are already doing so much good. I think of you often, or should I say always . . . I wonder what you are doing, and who you are with. I fret that you will become enamoured of another while you are gone. But I know you are loyal. Let me know when you are back in
the city.

  Farewell until then,

  Marcus Stevens x

  I was cheered immeasurably by this, and felt that he really did care about me. But I could not help but worry about Estella. She tried so hard to please Mr Dovetail, and yet never met with his approval. He seemed to find her conversation tedious, yet if she was too quiet he called her a 'depressive'. She couldn't do any right.

  Estella was terribly low and in hopes of lifting her spirits – and with her permission – I wrote to Lucy, asking her to come and stay for a few days. To my delight Lucy replied quickly to say that she was on her way. Her bubbly personality always made Estella smile and I prayed it would do the trick this time.

  Meanwhile Estella, Mrs Willow and I fell into a pattern of taking baskets of food to the poor in Banbury each morning, and chatting in the salon each afternoon while working on our cross-stitch. In the evenings we were often joined for dinner by the Dovetail parents and Leonora.

  When Lucy and Lady Lennox arrived at Dovetail Hall, I was shocked to see that Lucy looked very weary; her eyes were red and sore with crying.

  'Lucy, dearest, whatever is the matter?' I asked.

  Lady Lennox shook her head. 'It is grave news,' she said. 'Grave news indeed!'

  We huddled in the drawing room and Lucy revealed to us the nature of her distress. She held a handkerchief to her nose. 'It's . . . it's Mr Archer. He's in prison!' she declared through great gasping sobs.

  'Prison!' I exclaimed. 'Whatever for?'

  'He was bringing in slaves under illegal conditions on his spice ships,' she said. 'Remember we saw – I mean, heard about it?' she corrected herself, recalling that our chaperones knew nothing of our dockland visit.

  Even though I had always had suspicions about Mr Archer, I was still shocked to hear that a close acquaintance of ours had actually gone to gaol.

  Lucy was quite inconsolable for many minutes. 'I thought we would be married!' she sobbed. My heart bled for her. It was horrible to see my usually cheerful friend so distraught.