Song for Sophia Read Free Page A

was very bad.
    She walked away down the trail, and it seemed she took the forces of nature with her. He watched until she disappeared, leaving him bereft and feeling every bit the damned fool.
    At any rate, he was not a cad, lusting after whatever woman crossed his path. Just now he had been sidetracked by an uncommon specimen, as he would be interested in a rare species of bright-plumed bird. It was merely scientific interest. He went straight for the library to clear his head with a tedious book on politics and a strong mix of drink.

Chapter 3
    Why One Must Always Remember One’s Lamp At Night
    Wilhelm watched from the shadow of a velvet drapery, peering over the railing one floor above her. He was stunned to recognize her, the siren woman with the golden voice and French underwear who made him so angry. Here she was, polishing his baseboards. He stood transfixed, heart hammering as he warred with himself, abhorring the power a strange woman had over him.
    She paused as she reached a doorway, looked down the endless line of scuffed and dusty baseboard, and bowed her head as she sighed. She still had over a hundred yards of trim to clean, not counting the fluting around the seven remaining doorways. That meant one-hundred-ninety-seven more yards. And that was only one side of the passageway. She would be at it all week.
    She tried to uncurl her hands from the handle of the brush, and he wanted to groan, watching her wince and straighten her stiff fingers. Elegant, slender fingers, not gnarled and callused. Clearly she was not accustomed to manual labor.
    He hated seeing her on her knees. He could see straight down her bodice, for one thing. Wilhelm gripped the railing, unable to look away, on the verge of charging down the stairs.
    Would he toss her out the door or carry her upstairs to his bed?
    He was halfway down the first staircase when a footman passed the woman, and with a muttered taunting, yanked her cap off, grabbing her hair with it. Hairpins clattered to the floor and her chignon unraveled. The force knocked her against the doorway. She hissed an oath at the man, which Wilhelm could not make out because he was running.
    Wilhelm became aware of the pair of hands around the footman’s neck. He recognized the scars and the pattern of tawny hair across the wrists and could not deny they belonged to himself. Watery blue eyes stared back at him in a face flushing from red to violet. A tug on his sleeve and the distressed chiming of a treble voice pierced the haze in his mind.
    He was strangling his footman. He eased his grip and lowered the fainting man to the floor. He concentrated on breathing in and out. His blood pumped hot, his heart pounded a war chant. With great effort he cleared his head, convincing himself temperance, not vengeance, was the order of the day.
    “What have you done?” she gasped and retreated a step. Her eyes darted between the unconscious footman and Wilhelm, clearly wondering which presented the greater threat.
    “Did you kill him?”
    Wilhelm shook his head once, aware he had just made a lunatic of himself. He simply must wrestle himself under control.
    “He will wake in a few minutes. And then he will be thrown out on his ear.”
    “Oh, no! Sir, do not report the man, if you please.”
    “I witnessed his insult to you, an unpardonable trespass.” She obviously didn’t know who he was. Out of some unfathomable desire not to alienate her, Wilhelm played along. “Lord Devon tolerates no misbehavior among his staff.”
    “Indeed. However, I wish to avoid unpleasantness.” Such an enchanting, musical tone of voice. Perfectly genteel inflection.
    He betrayed a hint of appreciation in his look. “I will see to it you are spared any unpleasantness.”
    Oh yes, she understood, and he was pleased with the blush creeping over her cheeks and across her lovely collarbones. The small victory gave him a rush of pleasure; she unmanned him, but at least he could affect her in return.
    “I