The Secrets of Sophia Musgrove Page 11

  I gave her a hug. 'We must go to lots of parties and salons! We shall go to Brighton or Bath to catch the best summer parties if we must!' I told her firmly. 'We shall be the belles of every ball and that will take your mind off Mr Archer. Indeed, let's get those shoes you saw with the three-inch heels – and the dresses with the bust-enhancers too. People will say, My, how they've grown! In every direction!'

  Mrs Willow and Lady Lennox giggled at this in a bid to raise Lucy's spirits. Those dear ladies love us as if we were their own daughters. Lucy rallied a little and we played cards together before lunch.

  When I retired to my room later, I noticed a letter in my tray from my father.

  The 3rd day of July, 1803

  Musgrove House

  Mayfair

  London

  My dear Sophia,

  I do hope you have enjoyed your time with Estella and hope you bring good news of her health. Mama is making good progress, by all accounts, and she wrote to say that she was happy to think of you and your sister together. She asks what names you both like for the babe?

  Sophie, I trust that your nonsensical rebellion will never happen again. And I'm sure it will not if you lay aside your political notions and allow me to continue with my work without embarrassment. I know you will see sense and we will continue as before. Indeed, I insist upon this. Politics is not a suitable interest for a lady. Hitherto I have indulged your wayward ideas, but I am your father and in future you will do as I say. A young lady needs to be guided and protected and you must accept that I know best.

  And do think of Sandford, my dear. I fear his patience will not last for ever.

  Safe journey and much love,

  Papa xxx

  The nerve of him! I was furious at his determination to dismiss my political interests and ideas and marry me off as soon as possible. It seemed he was set on ruining my new life. Well, I would not allow it. Now that I'd seen how miserable Estella was in her wedded state, I felt no desire to rush into it myself. Marriage seemed like one day of delicious partying followed by an eternity of misery – and Papa would have me packed off to Mellorbay Hall as Lord Sandford's new wife in a flash!

  And so I resolved to take my father's papers for Marcus. Surely he would be pleased and impressed with me then. Papa's approval was no longer necessary to me.

  It was hard to say farewell to Lucy when she left a few days later, but even more difficult to part with my sister when my own stay came to an end. I really hoped that she would find the courage to stand up to Mr Dovetail, but it did not seem likely. Mrs Willow fretted on the journey back to London. 'She's not herself, dear girl!' she said at least a dozen times. Lily and I entirely agreed, but we were all powerless to help.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I was delighted to see Harry sliding down the stairs in a pillowslip when we got back to Musgrove House.

  'Sophie! Hello!' he cried. 'Just the person. Can you come out into the garden and play Knights with me? You can be the damsel in distress!'

  'All right, Harry,' I agreed, laughing. 'I'll be out in a moment.'

  I ran up to my room and quickly wrote to Marcus to tell him that I was about to go in search of the papers he wanted. He replied immediately by special messenger.

  Thank you, Sophia, darling. You are a true heart in putting the cause before all else. Please let me know when you have the papers. I am so proud of you! Indeed, my feelings for you grow and grow. I have never felt this way before but you are different. You have the powers of an enchantress.

  All my love,

  Marcus x

  I was honoured to be part of the select group that Marcus so admired. I really hoped that the papers would be in my father's office at Musgrove House and resolved to search for them as soon as I could.

  That evening I sneaked into Papa's study. I rummaged and raked through everything, but could see no documents like the ones Marcus had described. Just as I was thumbing through a great pile of papers, I heard footsteps approaching.

  'Oh no!' I said to myself. 'Papa will kill me!'

  'What are you doing in there, Sophie?' asked a voice. I gave a sigh of relief ! It was only Harry. 'Will you play at marbles, sis? I'm really bored.'

  'Very well, Harry. I'll be with you in a minute,' I said.

  He looked as if he was going to comment on my suspicious behaviour, but thankfully he was distracted by Dinky, and off he went to play with my dog until I was ready for marbles.

  The following day Lucy and I met up in the Maison du Chocolat, along with Mrs Willow and Lady Lennox, of course. We waited until our chaperones were chatting, and then we began to talk properly.

  'Lucy, how are you after your most terrible shock about Mr Archer?' I asked.

  'Quite wobbly still,' she replied quietly. 'But if I am honest, I must say that I suspected it for a while. As you know, I hear all the gossip about everyone in London, and people were very cagey with regard to Mr Archer. And then, when we saw him at the docks . . . You did try to tell me, Sophie, but I'm afraid I didn't want to hear. And, you know, I think he did care for me, in his way,' she finished in a voice that told me that a part of Lucy had changed for ever.

  'Lucy, you will fall in love again, and hopefully it will be with the right one next time,' I said.

  She nodded. 'And how is your Mr Stevens?' she asked.

  'He's wonderful!' I told her. 'In fact, Lucy, this pains me, but I would like to ask another favour of you with regard to Mr Stevens. The last one, I promise!'

  'Oh, Sophie. You saved my life at the docks, but I could not go back there. I have nightmares about it still,' she cried.

  'No, Lucy! I would not ask that of you. It is the matter of my father's papers,' I explained. 'I need your help in getting hold of them.'

  Lucy frowned, looking thoughtful. 'Very well, I will help you,' she said at last. 'But first I must say this: if your Mr Stevens were a gentleman, he would not allow you to undertake such dangerous missions on his behalf!'

  I ignored her caustic comment. I had no wish to argue with my best friend.

  'Where do you suppose such documents will be filed?' she asked.

  'Well, I've had a quick look in Papa's study at Musgrove House, but they are not there. I fear I will have to get into his private room the Palace of Westminster,' I revealed.

  Lucy looked aghast. 'Oh, Sophie. What if we are found out? My dear parents would disown me!' she whispered.

  'We will be careful,' I assured her. 'We will go over there one day when we know Papa is debating in the Chamber. We can easily search his office then, as long as we can slip past the guards,' I explained.

  'Oh, all right then. So long as I don't have to steal anything, I'm game!' said Lucy.

  I squeezed her hand. She was proving to be the very best of friends to me, and all at a time when her own heart was broken.

  I saw from my father's diary that he was involved in a debate on poor-house conditions on the following Monday, and I finally persuaded a reluctant Mrs Willow to take Lucy and me there to listen.

  I felt treacherous as I placed his spare set of keys in my reticule before leaving Musgrove House that morning, but I was convinced that I was doing the right thing.

  'Mrs Willow will fall asleep in the gallery, I am quite sure of it,' I whispered to Lucy as we walked towards Westminster, once our carriage had dropped us off on the Embankment of the River Thames. Mrs Willow was puffing along several paces behind.

  'But what if she doesn't?' asked Lucy.

  'Well, then I'll think of something else!' I replied anxiously. 'Anyway, once she is asleep we shall have to run to the private office wing. Lucy, if we should need to distract any gentlemen on the way, then you are the perfect person to do it!'

  Lucy laughed and was about to protest, but we saw that we had reached the Palace of Westminster.

  We took our seats in the public gallery. Dear Mrs Willow became quite sleepy, even before the debate began. It was a soporific atmosphere and she prefers people and gossip to politics. O
nce she was snoring softly, we slipped out of our seats and made our way across the vast building. Happily, it was deserted, as most people were in the Chamber.

  We sped down corridor after corridor, each dimly lit by oil lamps. As luck would have it, we were unchallenged by any guards, and eventually we came to a passageway I vaguely recognized from a visit years before. We held our breath as we crept along, studying the nameplates on the doors. Finally I found the one with my father's name in gold letters upon it: THE RT. HON. LORD MUSGROVE, SENIOR MEMBER OF THE HOUSE.

  We heard footsteps approaching. 'Someone's coming!' hissed Lucy, and we darted round a corner and then peeped out into the corridor.

  We saw a guard in a red tunic stride past the end of the passageway. Once he was gone, we headed back towards Papa's office.

  'Right,' I said. 'I'll go in while you wait outside and keep watch, Lucy.'

  'Yes, all right. But do be quick, Sophie. I feel quite faint with nerves,' she said.

  My heart was pounding as I tried key after key. I could hear the guard coughing at the end of the corridor and felt sure he was going to catch us at the door and take us to the Tower. But at last the door swung open and I slipped inside.

  I looked about the office and was amazed to see portraits of myself, Mama and my siblings all around the room. On the desk there was even a calendar marked with our movements and birthdays. I didn't remember these things from my only previous visit so many years ago. There was a framed sketch I had made of a butterfly one summer at the Daisy Park, and a lopsided little wooden horse that Harry had carved. I realized then that Papa loved us all – but I could not afford to give in to nostalgia and sentimentality and fail in my task. I had a job to do for the cause.

  I quickly found the key to the desk drawer. Inside there were piles of papers which all looked the same to me. I flicked through one pile after another, despairing of ever finding the right documents, until I found something that mentioned slavery.

  I spread the papers out on the desk and hurriedly studied them. They were the ones Marcus wanted, I was sure. I was partly relieved and partly disappointed – perhaps deep down I was hoping to be able to tell him that the papers weren't there. But there was no time to agonize over my decision. I grabbed the documents and ran to the door.

  But just as I reached it, Lucy dived into the room and closed the door behind her.

  'The guard's coming back this way!' she whispered.

  Chapter Eighteen

  We crouched down behind my father's desk. I could hear the footsteps now. They were coming closer. I had heard that the guards were all armed with swords and daggers. What if this one thought we were criminals and stabbed us to death?

  The footsteps stopped and whoever it was opened the door. Lucy and I exchanged panicked looks. We were surely discovered!

  There was silence. Presumably the guard was looking around. 'Lord Musgrove must have forgotten to lock his office,' he murmured.

  I held my breath, praying he wouldn't decide to search for intruders, and after what seemed like an eternity, the door closed again. But I could not be sure if the guard was inside or outside the room. After crouching there for several uncomfortable moments, I plucked up the courage to peep out.

  Slowly, slowly, I raised my head over the top of the desk. There was nobody there. We were alone. 'Come on, Lucy,' I said. 'Let's get out of here.'

  'I fear we will be caught on our departure,' Lucy whispered anxiously. 'And the papers will be found on you, and we will be imprisoned! Sophie, we will be sent to the Tower of London!' she squealed.

  I was not keen to encounter the guard either. 'Perhaps we could leave by the window,' I suggested, checking to see if this was indeed possible. We were a couple of floors up, but there was a sturdy tree near the building and I thought we might climb down that way. Lucy came over and peered out too, but she looked horrified when she saw the drop.

  'No! I couldn't bear it!' she cried. 'I feel dizzy just at the thought. We will have to leave as we arrived. Let me look out into the corridor.' She hurried over to the door, opened it a crack and peered out. Then she beckoned to me. 'All clear!' she said.

  I tucked the papers inside my undergarments and we ran as fast as our legs would carry us back towards the chamber. As we fled, we heard a guard shout: 'Who goes there? Friend or foe?' but we did not reply, and within minutes we were sitting next to Mrs Willow once again.

  Despite a nagging feeling of guilt at having betrayed my papa, I was delighted to have accomplished my mission. I hoped Marcus would be pleased with me.

  I had received a letter from him with instructions to take the papers to an anti-slavery meeting in Clerkenwell two days later. I couldn't wait to get rid of them. I was starting to feel a little guilty and was quite exhausted by the anxiety of having them in the house, so that night I sneaked out by the back door and took a hackney cab to the meeting.

  When I arrived, I found Marcus at the door of the salon talking to a rather beautiful woman. He had that earnest look in his eyes that I had noticed whenever he talked about the slave trade. When he saw me, he bowed to the lady and excused himself to come and greet me.

  'So was it a successful operation, Sophia?' he asked.

  'Yes, very. Here are the documents!' I said, pressing them into his hands.

  'Well done!' he said, evidently delighted by the success of my mission, then put the papers away in his case. He took my hands in his and squeezed them. For a short moment, as I gazed into his dancing blue eyes, it seemed that I had done the right thing and all the guilt and worry left me. But as soon as we entered the meeting, my doubts and fears returned. Firstly, I was surprised that he did not share the news of the arrival of the papers with the other members.

  And then, as the meeting progressed, I felt more and more uncomfortable as the campaigners discussed the 'evil' character of gentlemen in government, such as my father. I thought of the family items I had seen in his office – I could not see him as evil at all.

  'Lord Musgrove is a coward like the others,' said one campaigner. 'It is good that you see through him, Miss Musgrove! Blood isn't always thicker than water.'

  This comment infuriated me, though I said nothing. They did not know my father to talk about him in such terms. But when I looked to Marcus for support, he seemed preoccupied.

  Before long I was desperately wanting to leave. Added to which, I was worried that Mrs Willow might look for me in my room and find me gone. I said goodbye to Marcus, excused myself from the meeting and jumped into the hackney carriage that awaited me.

  The next day Papa took Mrs Willow, Harry and me on a picnic in Hyde Park. It seemed to me that he was trying to spend more time with us these days, partly because Harry was missing Mama's tender touch, and partly, I think, because he was worried about my behaviour.

  We played cricket and tried to catch butterflies by the Serpentine. Being with Papa in that relaxed setting reminded me of all the happy times we had spent together.

  I watched a little ladybird scurrying over a leaf and remembered how he had always told us to treat wild things kindly and never to crush any of God's beasts, no matter how tiny. He was such a kind man, really, I thought.

  I remembered the piggy-back rides he had given me at the Daisy Park when I was small, and the long winter evenings when he had taught me to write and play board games. There was the time when a local boy from Whistling Sparrows was threatening me with a stick and Papa came to my rescue like a roaring lion.

  Amidst all these memories, I found myself regretting what I had done in my desperate attempt to help those who opposed the slave trade. But it was too late to undo my actions, and I tried to put the thought out of my mind.

  A few days passed with no news of the papers or distribution of pamphlets, and I began to hope that nothing would come of my theft. However, I felt compelled to write and tell Marcus how monstrously guilty I felt about taking my father's papers: I told him that I would never do such a thing again. Marcus did not reply, which was
unlike him.

  I desperately needed to occupy my mind and distract myself from my guilty feelings, so I went to visit Lucy. We went through our vast selection of party invitations and other social engagements, mostly from out-of-town locations, keen to fill our diaries with outings.

  'What we need, Sophie, is to buy some pretty new dresses, some new reticules, shoes and fans, then launch ourselves at every party worth going to!' she observed.

  'Oh, Lucy, look at this letter,' I said, flicking through the pile. 'It's from Mr Hughes, asking if I might drop by his London home some time this summer. As if I would ever set foot in that man's house! The cheek of him. Does he want to squeeze some other secret out of me so that he can pass it on to Papa?' I said.

  'Sophie, you don't know it was him,' Lucy pointed out. 'And anyway, have you heard from Mr Stevens lately? He's not been at any respectable parties this season.'

  'Lucy, he doesn't go to mindless social dos. He is a thinker. It sets him apart,' I said defensively, though her comments did strike a chord with me. I was starting to wonder why Marcus had kept in regular touch with me before I got the papers for him, but not since.

  'Or maybe he isn't welcome at polite functions . . .' said Lucy cryptically.

  I had no interest in idle gossip, so I ignored this.

  Lucy and I went on a shopping spree and bought lots of pretty new things to cheer ourselves up. The exercise wasn't entirely successful. My father never complained about all the items I put on his accounts and I felt a little guilty about spending his money when I had betrayed his trust and taken his private papers. But I was determined to throw myself into the party-going. I knew Papa would approve of that and I needed to take my mind off my recent mistakes. Also, I suppose I was trying to push away my anxiety about Marcus: he had not contacted me for days. I felt that I should never feel properly happy again.

  One evening, as Lily was putting my hair up for a party in Grosvenor Square, with a satin band placed above my hairline in the new style, she asked me who was going to the party.