Sophia was surprised at the relief she felt at Rodney's confession and at the growing affection he inspired. But she would consider that later. Now she must concentrate on Dominic.
"If Dominic was devoted to his mother, when did he turn against her? When he grew older and saw what kind of person she was?"
"No … it was not until after the accident that he saw her for what she had been."
Sophia's insides coiled with fear when she saw the look of pain and dread on Rodney's face, but she forced him on. "Tell me about the accident." "Never been fully explained," he began, his voice sinking to a shadow of its former self. "Leticia was shot by my brother Charles in a drunken rage. Jules was wounded. No one knows how. Then … then Charles … Charles turned the pistol on himself. Dominic was there, but unable to stop it."
The day had barely edged into evening when Sophia quietly entered the blue bedchamber next to her niece's. A large four-poster dominated the panels of carved oak painted pale blue and white, and the delicate furnishings upholstered in striped silk placed about the room. Juliana sat on one fragile chair pulled close to the bed.
She was watching the gentle rhythm of Ben's breathing, his thin chest rising and falling beneath the fine blue cover. Lifting one of his hands that lay palm up, she cupped it against her cheek for a moment before carefully resting it back on the quilt.
Suddenly she looked around and Sophia could see the sheen of tears on her cheeks.
"The fever has broken," she whispered softly.
Sophia stood beside the bed watching Ben, his freckles and spots so intermingled it was difficult in the candlelight to tell where one began and the other ended. Nodding her head, she placed a large vase of lavender and pinks upon the nightstand. "He'll be fine now, my dear. But we will be nursing you if you do not eat something. Come with me now. Cook has prepared a light supper for us."
Juliana rang for her dresser, Maitland, to sit with young Ben, leaving careful instructions that she be called if the boy woke. Then she asked Smithers to send word to the stables that Ben was, at last, out of danger.
Sophia and Juliana entered the informal dining room set with two places, and steaming serving dishes already laid out along the oak sideboard so they could serve themselves just as Sophia had ordered. The warmth from a small fire mingled with the scent of roses.
Juliana sank into a chair stroking a rose petal with a long, thin finger. "More flowers, Aunt Sophia?"
Sophia placed a crest-embossed china plate piled with breast of chicken poached in cream, asparagus, and small carrots in front of her weary niece before going back for her own.
"Dominic sent several bouquets. There are violets in our bedrooms and a gardenia basket in the front parlor. He also sent a basket of strawberries and a pail of fresh cream for our young patient."
A slight frown creased Juliana's brow. "How did Dominic know about Ben? Smithers was told to send away all visitors."
"Smithers is a law unto himself as you very well know. He admitted Rodney and Dominic this morning, and as I happened to be in the upstairs hall I spoke to them briefly. Obviously Dominic felt flowers and fruit would brighten the sickroom."
"Very generous," Juliana said thoughtfully. "He has a way of surprising one, doesn't he? One moment the dashing knight-errant rescuing us. The next a distant stranger, and now this kindness."
An aching tenderness swelled in Sophia's breast at the tired, wistful smile on Juliana's drawn face. She wanted so much for her to be happy! She had begun to think she had found Juliana's ideal man until this morning. "A way of surprising one?" Oh, yes, Dominic could do that, indeed! She did not tell her niece that with the dozens of flowers, the fruit and the cream, there had been a note. A bold sprawl in black ink saying simply, "Forgive me."
One week later, Sophia caught sight of the tail end of a nightshirt disappearing up the back staircase. "Ben, what are you doing out of your bedchamber!"
"It be for Miss Juliana," Ben replied quickly, coming back down the steps. "Scones and tea from Cook. See."
Sophia examined the neat tray that Cook had obviously prepared for him. "Juliana would never have sent you. Why didn't she ring for a maid?"
"Fell asleep whiles readin' me a story. Looks poorly she does. Thought't might make her feel better. Did it meself," he said proudly.
Sighing, Sophia admitted she was much too lax with the servants, but Ben's smiling face flushed with fading measles made her stroke his tousled hair. "That was very thoughtful. But you must stay in bed and get well. Then Miss Juliana will no longer look poorly. Go on now."
Hurrying from the back hallway, her mind occupied with Juliana, she nearly collided with Smithers.
"Madam, you have a visitor in the front parlor." Looking down his long nose at her, Sophia self-consciously straightened the bow of her cap.
"Thank you, Smithers." Deciding she really must take him in hand, she lifted her chin and gave him a frosty stare. "I trust our visitor has a name."
He sniffed. "It is teatime, so naturally your visitor is Lord Rodney Crawford."
Sophia found Rodney in the wing chair before the fireplace. He rose when she entered, raising her hand to his lips.
"Sophia, my dear, what is troubling you? Has the boy taken a turn for the worse?" he asked, leading her to the settee and settling in beside her.
"Rodney, you are so kind to be concerned. Ben is making fine progress. It is Juliana who worries me."
"Never say she's come down with measles!"
The look of distress on his chubby features brought a great rush of affection into Sophia's breast. Yes, Rodney would do just fine.
"No, no, it is not her health. It is my plan. How can it work if she never leaves the house?"
Confusion wrinkled his brow. "Don't quite see … "
"Rodney, dear, I tell you this in great confidence," she said gently and was rewarded with a worshipful smile. She leaned over the teapot and carefully added two spoonfuls of liquid from a small bottle to Rodney's teacup before handing it to him. "As you know Juliana was widowed six years ago and has remained at Wentworth Park caring for her brother. For some time I have been most concerned about her future. But until recently I could see no way through my dilemma. Then Juliana gave me my answer. She became concerned that George was not enjoying life so he should become part of the ton. Then she decided it was time she found a comfortable widower with children and let George get on with his life. That is when I hatched my plan."
Raising his quizzing glass, Rodney peered closely at her. "Sophia, ‘fraid I'm still a bit vague. What are we talking about?"
"Don't you see, Rodney. I conceived the plan to come to London to find her widower, thereby forcing George into the city and into the ton. But not for an instant did I intend for Juliana to settle for a stuffy widower with a brood of children. No! She must have someone like Dominic." Encountering his shocked stare, she patted his hand again. "Not Dominic precisely. Someone like Dominic. It is my fondest wish to see my sweet Juliana happily settled."
Lacing his fingers with hers, Rodney gazed at her solemnly. "If it is your wish, then it is also mine, Sophia dear."
There was a discreet knock at the door. Smithers entered, his usually impassive face twisted with disgust.
"Sorry to disturb you, madam. The housekeeper needs your assistance downstairs."
"Now, Smithers? Whatever is the problem?"
"Something about turning a parlor maid off without a character. Mrs. Nelson needs your approval." His rigid stance portrayed his dislike of airing staff problems in front of Lord Rodney.
Rodney cleared his throat. "Um, I believe I'll go now, Sophia." He rose and executed a portly bow. "Perhaps I'll be able to do something, um, about our previous conversation."
Sophia dimpled up at him. "I knew I could rely on you."
As Dominic turned onto the street, someone was walking away from Juliana's town house. Suddenly the man waved his walking stick and bellowed, "Dominic. Dominic Crawford!"
"Blast!" Dominic muttered under his breath, recognizing his Uncle Rodney waving at him frantically. After his childish outburst at Sophia, he had not intruded upon her with his presence, but it had become his habit to drive his high-perch phaeton past Wentworth House in the afternoon. It was unfortunate that today he had been caught.