Page 56 of One Day for a Valet

Christopher made a satisfied sound in the back of his throat and tightened his grip. “Good. Do you have time for a walk?” His playfulness vanished. “I have something I would like to discuss.” Christopher’s eyes slid meaningfully in Oliver’s direction, where her brother was bowing over Nora’s hand at the close of their dance.

Sofia nodded, instantly alert.

“Oliver, I’m going to stretch my legs and walk with your sister. I’m not as young as I used to be, and I don’t want to risk straining something in a quadrille. Will you be all right here with the ladies?”

“If you’re asking if I plan to dash off to the sideboard the moment you turn the corner, the answer is no. But see that you don’t wander too far.”

Christopher fell into step beside Sofia, heading in the direction of the apple orchard. “Your brother and I spent the morning in town, paying off some old gambling debts he had accrued.”

“With what money?”

Christopher raised an eyebrow.

“I see.” Shame curdled in her stomach. “I haven’t spent any of my wages. I will pay back the balance once I have more.” A breeze that should have felt warm kicked through the errant strands of Sofia’s hair, and she wrapped her arms around herself.

Christopher shook his head. “Keep your money, Sofia. That’s not why I’m telling you. I didn’t like the look of the men or the way they spoke. One of them said that he knew Oliver was good for more money than the debts we repaid, and they know where he is, Sofia. I want you to be careful.”

She tried to shrug off his comment, but his eyes held fast to hers, unblinking. Brackets of worry appeared at the corners of his mouth. “I mean it, Sofi. Even if you think I’m overreacting. Humour me, please, and promise me you will be careful. Don’t wander off alone, even on the grounds.”

Sofia felt her skin prickle at his serious expression. “I will be careful,” she murmured.

Some of the gravity drained from his face and he slid his hand down to lace his fingers with hers. “Your brother swims every morning in the lake and works side by side with Davies all day. They’ve begun plans for a grove of olive trees, did you know? Davies wants to meet with Gabriel tomorrow afternoon to show him the sketches. I’ve been thinking that we could move Oliver into the guest quarters in another week or two, long enough to get the cabin up to scratch. He did a terrible job with demolition—scarcely broke a thing—but it needs a proper kitchen at the very least if he’s going to live there.”

Christopher glanced up to see Sofia watching him warily, and some of his boyish enthusiasm fell away. “Of course, if you think he should remain in the cabin with company a bit longer⁠—”

“No. I’m glad to hear that he is making plans … pleased to see him doing so well.”

Christopher raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I can tell from the way you’re punishing your lower lip between your teeth and clenching your fist in your skirts how very glad you are.”

She released the choking grip on her skirts but said nothing.

“I will look after your brother, Sofia, but he is a grown man and he cannot remain tethered to my apron strings forever. This is his accomplishment. His battle to fight and win … and Oliver knows that. We can begin work on the cabin after the ball. I spoke with Gabriel about it this morning.” He looked off to the horizon then back again. “Then again, I’m not sure he was listening to a single word that I was saying. Can you keep a secret?” He didn’t wait for a response. “The duchess is with child.”

Countless emotions were packed into the silence that followed, and when he resumed speaking, his wariness nearly matched her own. “Gabriel is nearly certain, and even in my limited experience, I am wont to agree with his assessment.” He cocked his head to the side, watching her. “And you know something.” The hint of a smile pulled at his mouth. “How long have you known?”

“Not long. And she’s tormented at the thought of telling him,” Sofia said.

“Understandably so. His fear stands between him and any enjoyment of it.” He tightened his clasp on her hand, beginning to walk again. “You rather remind me of Gabriel sometimes, resigned to the certainty that any joy you find will slip away. I can see it in your eyes when you look at me … feel it when you touch me.” He drew in a long breath, holding it for a moment before releasing it all at once. “I love you, you know, and that’s never going to change.”

He didn’t pause in his steps or meet her eyes, but his free hand came up to nervously smooth at his cowlick. “There. That wasn’t so difficult,” he added. “And the next ten thousand times I say the words should only get easier.” He chuckled in the direction of his boots. “Everyone else in this bloody house knows, so I’m certain it comes as no surprise.”

Sofia opened her mouth to respond, but no sound would emerge. Even as she knew it to be true, had experienced his devotion like the heat from a fire, she still struggled to imagine a world where that flame would not one day flicker away, leaving naught but cold ash and the distant memory of comfort within its charred remains. Life was too difficult to sustain love. Every gust of wind drained love’s fervour until a well-placed boot could easily extinguish the last halfhearted spark. Still, she could picture Christopher with his back to the wind, a living shield to protect the flame. If there was a man alive worthy of her faith, it was him. But even if her brother held his tongue, the lie that lived between them could not remain harmless for long.

She was the wind.

She hated the damage she would inflict upon this man, hated the clarity with which she could see the moment when his ardour would cool. And most of all, she hated the knowledge that despite all this, she was helpless not to love him anyway.

He stopped mid-step, a quizzical frown marring his perpetual optimism, and he reached to smooth the lines of her brow. “No. Not that, Sofia. Tell me you don’t love me or that I am ridiculous, but I cannot be the one to put that expression on your face. Is it so terrible to hear that you’re loved? This is not a transaction at the market. I ask for nothing in return. You keep your coin and receive a choice carving of Christopher in the deal.” He grinned at her wrinkled nose, and she relaxed into his familiar nonsense.

“That’s disgusting.”

“Yes, well, I had to do something to combat that frown. The moment required extreme measures.”

She stepped closer and touched her lips to his. A soft kiss, precious in its brevity … much like their time together. She felt him settling deeper into her soul. Curling himself around her heart; like tree roots in the soil, he had blind faith that she would nourish him and that he would spread his branches and give her shade. Christopher saw a future that Sofia could only accept as a mirage.

Some men knew only how to take. Others baulked at receiving. Both came as easily as breath to Christopher. In and out in equal measure, as if there was no simpler concept to master. In and out, like the rise and fall of his chest beneath her fingertips. She felt its rhythm, memorised it as if she could make it her own.

“I should get you back to your brother. We’ve been away too long as it is.”