The Heart That Wins (Regency Spies Book 3) by April Munday

her. She would be ruined and he could not, would not marry her.
    “Will you ever tire of looking after me?”
    “No.”
    “How long have you been in Brussels?”
    “A week.”
    “You collected your horse, yet you didn’t call on me.”
    “No,” he agreed, “I didn’t call on you.”
    Her arm brushed his as she turned away from him and sniffed. In an effort to stop her crying in the street, John said, “Your mother was right in one thing. My reputation is worse than hers. It got here before I did. I won’t have you tarnished by it.”
    Somehow she was still unaware of his reputation. Had she known it, she would not have spoken to him or even looked at him. He tensed, waiting for the inevitable question, but it did not come. Sophia put her hand back on his arm.
    “Then let us walk quickly.”
    They set off again in silence. When they arrived at the house that Edmund had rented John expected to hand Sophia over to the footman who opened the door to them, but she insisted that he come in and speak to Edmund. They found him in the sitting-room nursing a glass of brandy. He looked as if he had slept little in the last few days.
    “John? Sophia? Is something wrong?”
    He stood unsteadily. John did not think he was drunk, just tired.
    “My mother was at the ball. John rescued me.”
    “Franz?”
    “Is still there for all I know. You look tired.”
    “Mary doesn’t sleep well, which means I don’t sleep well. It wasn’t like this with Philippe.”
    Sophia crossed the room to him and took his hand.
    “Only a few days more.”
    There was nothing else to be said to a man who had already lost a wife in childbirth.
    Edmund nodded.
    “Brandy?” he asked.
    “Please,” said John and Sophia together.
    John had not meant to stay, but it was impossible to leave. Sophia did not know his reputation and he could sit with her for a few minutes more without worry.
    Edmund poured for them and they sat in a comfortable silence. John let the taste of the brandy fill him.
    John turned his head to look at Sophia, sitting beside him on the sofa. Someone who did not know her as well as he did would not know that she had been crying, but it was obvious to John and probably to Edmund. Before he had joined the army he would have thought nothing of moving to her side and comforting her. Now he knew that he was not wanted. It still cost him a great deal to sit where he was and not go to her.
    Glancing across at his host, he saw that the older man was studying him.
    “Thank you for bringing Sophia home.”
    “Your Prussian friend didn’t seem to think the situation serious enough to warrant Sophia’s departure.”
    “Really?”
    “He is not as careful of Sophia as he should be.”
    Edmund’s lips curled into a reluctant smile.
    “I doubt anyone could come up to your standards in that regard.”
    “Please stop talking about me while I’m in the room,” said Sophia.
    Edmund drained his glass.
    “I shall go up now.”
    John stood as his host rose. Regretfully, for the brandy was really very good, he placed the glass on the small table next to the chair.
    “I should leave.”
    “No need,” said Edmund. “I’ll send Laurent to be Sophia’s chaperone. There’s no need to waste good brandy. His English is poor, so you need not worry too much about what you say.”
    So saying, he left, leaving the door open behind him. This was not what they had agreed; John was not supposed to see Sophia, let alone sit drinking brandy with her with only a French-speaking footman for company.
    “Please stay, John, you have not told me yet what you’ve been doing for the last two years.”
    Since they had never felt the need to be polite to one another in private, he guessed that her request was made out of genuine curiosity.
    Obediently John sat, picked up his glass and began his tale.
    Laurent was not required at his post for long, as Franz appeared before John’s story had got him out of England. The Prussian threw open the door to the