Bell expelled his breath and settled back into his chair. “I know that.” He sighed. “I’m not a complete fool.”
“Good. That’s an end to it,” Phillip declared, slapping a palm against the table.
“Well,” Bell replied, cocking his head to the side. “It’s not exactly an end to it.”
Phillip narrowed his eyes at his friend. “What do you mean? You will not visit her, will you?”
“Certainly not,” Bell replied, straightening his cravat. “I intend to send someone much more effective in my stead.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
A fortnight later, Sir Roger Payton’s town house in London
Sophie stepped into the corridor, shutting her father’s study door behind her. She’d just finished informing Papa of her plans. It had really been much easier than she’d guessed it would be…telling her father precisely what she intended to do and gaining his approval. She was through with taking orders from men, and she was especially through with anyone else controlling her choices or her destiny. And most importantly, she would never settle for not being put first in someone’s life ever again. And that included her father.
She’d had a great deal of time to think over the last two weeks. Being mostly bedridden gave one an awful lot of time to think, in fact. At first, she’d been dismayed that Phillip had never even tried to say goodbye to her. Papa had informed her that Phillip had shown no interest in either visiting her or saying goodbye. So be it. She needed to close that door behind her and move on in her life.
Obviously, after everything they’d been through, she and Phillip Grayson hadn’t been meant to be together. And after the debacle with Hugh, she was no longer interested in looking for another man to marry, either. A love like she’d had with Phillip was once in a lifetime. She planned to go to her father’s country estate and live out her days in the small cottage there. She and Mary, her lady’s maid, would be leaving first thing in the morning. Papa had agreed nearly immediately. His guilt over bringing Valentina into their lives remained almost palpable. She no longer blamed her father for his mistakes, however. She’d made mistakes too. But she wanted to get away from London, where the headlines included her name nearly every day. The country would be a welcome relief, even if it might become…lonely.
Sophie strolled through the corridor toward the staircase in the foyer, her head held high. She had physically healed from her injuries incurred in the cellar. Her heart might still be fragile, but she refused to allow anything to stop her now. The rest of her life was her own, and she intended to enjoy every moment. On her terms. She was choosing to be happy once and for all.
The new butler, the one she’d hired last week after tossing Roberts out on his ear without a reference, came hurrying toward her. “Miss Payton, I was just coming to inform you that you have a visitor.”
Sophie stopped and frowned. A visitor? Who could it be? She hoped it wasn’t General Grimaldi again. She’d already informed the insistent man that she had no intention of becoming a spy for the Home Office, even if she had displayed what he called ‘a knack for subterfuge and uncommon bravery.’ As far as she was concerned, she wasn’t brave at all. She’d done precisely what she’d had to do to keep her stepmother from killing Phillip, the way the awful woman had killed his brother. But Sophie hardly relished a life filled with danger. On the contrary, she intended to do precisely what she’d informed Papa. She would live a quiet life in the countryside as a spinster.
“Here is her card,” the butler replied, handing the small piece of vellum to Sophie.
Her? Sophie took the card and glanced at it. Lady Theodora Clayton. Oh. No. What could she possibly want? The last time they’d spoken had been beyond unpleasant.
“Tell her I’m not home,” she informed the butler.
A soft clearing of the throat caught her attention and Sophie glanced toward the door of the nearby salon to see Lady Clayton standing in the entrance, staring at her. The woman was wearing a bright yellow gown with a matching redingote. Her gray eyes had a smile in them, and her dark hair was piled atop her head, held in place by a matching yellow bow. “I do hope you’ll reconsider taking my call, Miss Payton,” Lady Clayton said with a sardonic edge to her voice.
Drat. Sophie sighed. She couldn’t lie to the woman directly to her face. Very well. But she’d simply ensure this visit was over quickly.
Nodding to the butler, Sophie made her way to the salon door and ushered Lady Clayton back inside before joining her and closing the door behind them.
Sophie remained standing, her arms folded across her chest. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t offer you a seat.” Lady Clayton couldn’t possibly believe her visit was welcome. Phillip had to have informed her somehow of what had transpired between them in the countryside. Why else would she be here?
“And you’ll forgive me if I take one, regardless?” Lady Clayton said smoothly, taking a seat on the cream-colored settee in the center of the room.
Sophie sighed again. “What do you want, Lady Clayton? I fear I’m fresh out of the ability to mimic niceties this morning.”
“I knew I liked you,” Lady Clayton replied, the hint of a smile quirking up the corners of her mouth.
Sophie’s only response was an arched brow.
“Very well,” Lady Clayton continued. “I’m here on behalf of Phillip.”
Sophie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Allow me to spare you wasting your time, Lady Clayton.”
“Please, do call me Thea,” the viscountess said, a perfectly pleasant smile on her face.
“Fine. Thea,” Sophie replied somewhat impatiently. “What’s happened between Phillip and me is private. I know you understand that. And I have no intention of discussing it with you or anyone else. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
“I do hope you’ll do me the courtesy of at least listening to what I have to say,” Thea said, calmly smoothing her skirts. “Phillip didn’t ask me to come. In fact, he doesn’t know I’m here.”
“So, you’re not here on his behalf?” Sophie replied, her brow furrowed.
