The Devil's Inheritance Ch. 06

"How is it you can make me feel this way?"

Sophia burst into tears, loud sobs, as she cradled her belly and their child within. The spark of life had started within her late that night. She was certain of it. Now she feared his return. Would he cast her out, as poor Gwenny had been turned out, when she was discovered? She looked down again and caressed her womb. Whatever James thought about it, this child was hers and she would protect it with her life. She wouldn't tell him, if she ever got the chance to tell him in the first place. There was the possibility that she would never see him again.

The uncertainty and the thought of being separated from him forever made her nauseous again, and she doubled over in front of the chamber pot, not hearing the door creak open lightly behind her. She wiped off the edges of her mouth and spit the last remaining bile into the ceramic pot before turning around to see Katje staring at her. The woman's brow was crinkled with worry and she was wringing her hands.

"You would like ontbijt this morning?" she said slowly, using the Dutch word for 'breakfast'. Sophia had asked her to start teaching her some words in Dutch in exchange for correcting her English.

"'Would you like' and yes, thank you, Katje. Something very light, if you don't mind," she said wiping a tear away from her face. Katje was looking around Sophia to the bile in the chamber pot and back at Sophia, who was still clutching her womb. Katje looked at her quizzically again and came closer, "Miss Sophia... Do you... do you have baby inside?"

Sophia burst into tears and crumpled at the base of the dresser as Katje rushed over to her.

"Oh Miss, do not worry. You will be fine. I had baby three times, and I just fine. You will see," she said stroking Sophia's hair.

"Please don't tell him. Please," Sophia said in tears, "James can't know about this."

"But Master James love you. Trust me, I know. I see many, many women come and go. But you Miss Sophia, you are different. You he think about all the time."

"Please Katje, just promise me!"

"I not tell. I promise," she sighed and shook her head, "He should be with you right now, not in that vreselijk city."

The start of September brought with it a cold snap once the rains subsided. James moved quickly through the streets, past the drunks and apple carts, peddlers and beggars, making his way to the Rose Tavern. He rapped on the door until Madame Brown appeared.

"I think we've had quite enough of your bullshit for one month, Mr. Gardiner."

"Where is Julia?"

"She's preparing to meet with a client. A real client. I'm not about to disturb her for the likes of you."

"Mrs. Brown, just let him in for God's sake," Julia said, appearing behind the red-clad woman in a translucent light blue chemise, "He won't be long."

James muscled past the Madame, tipping his hat and giving her an oily smile as he wandered upstairs after Julia. She shut the door behind her, "All right, talk. But talk fast, James. I'm in the middle of getting ready. I have a date with the Duke of Somerset tonight," she said over her shoulder.

"But he's so old..."

"And so rich, darling. He's taking me to the theatre like a proper courtesan, not some two penny whore," she sucked her cheeks together and examined them in the mirror, "So what sins have you come to confess, my child?"

Julia smoothed rouge over her cheeks in the mirror as James kept his eyes on her reflected face instead of letting them drift down to her barely clothed round ass. Not two months ago, he would have simply told Julia her date was cancelled and spent the day with her legs wrapped around his hips. Now the idea didn't so much repulse him, as it just simply did nothing for him. James sighed, "She wants me to come back."

"So go back, then."

"It's not that simple, for reasons I told you about last week," he said, sitting on the edge of her lush bed, watching her prepare herself for another man.

"I really think your uncle was just trying to help make a match for you. But if you can't handle that, then screw what your uncle wants. Just because you go back doesn't mean you have to marry her like he wanted. You're James Gardiner. You live life on your own terms. Ask her to be your mistress."

"And leave London? She won't leave the farm, that's for sure."

She brushed white powder over her face, "James, I don't understand what makes you want to stay here so badly. You hate London anyway. You always have."

"What? That's nonsense! I love London."

She snapped her powder shut and looked back at him, "No man gambles, drinks and fucks the way you do if they aren't looking for some kind of escape."

He folded his arms, his mouth dry and partly open in defensive shock.

"Trust me," she said turning back and running her charcoal stick over the candle before blowing on it, "I know men. You came here to escape your family, and you hate it here. The only reason you are here is because it's not there. Well now you have something there that's worth pursuing and you're just afraid is all. Now, stop staring at me like a fish and talk. I can't go on babbling at you when I'm doing my eyes."

He sat for a moment staring at her in indignation, "What do you mean when you say 'gambles, drinks and fucks' like I do?"

"Busy with my right eyelid, dear; answer your own damn question," she said dismissively.

He sat for a minute to think about everything she had just said. London held no sway over him since he returned. He had the sneaking feeling since he came back that his life here was meaningless, and was already convinced that a life with out her was even worse. He thought back trying to even remember the last six years of his life here and the nights all seemed a blur of whores, cards and gin, "Julia, I think you may be right."

"Of course I'm right."

"I have my home here, though."

"How much are you paying for it?"

"Fifty a year."

"Ha! You're being robbed," she said adding the last bit of kohl to her left eye.

He wrinkled his brow at her, "So, you think I should just give up all my holdings here and live in the country?"

"No, you idiot, keep your over-priced townhouse and visit the city on business when you need to. And there usually isn't anything that can't be done from a country estate. Ask any lord or gentleman in London."

James stood up, "I should be going then. You have a guest coming."

"Yes! Go! Be happy, damn you," she said, putting on a set of diamond chandelier earrings, "Oh and James..."

"Yes, Julia?"

"Confession isn't free."

He smiled and dropped two guineas on the table, "Thank you, Julia."

James walked out of the Rose Tavern, a broad smile on his face. He hailed a coach and rode home, ready to spend his last night without Sophia, preparing for his journey to Ashford and back to her.

Sophia woke up late and started walking toward the chamber pot, expecting to throw up as she had every morning. It was becoming routine. Today was no exception, and it seemed to be getting worse every passing day. She cursed herself for writing the note for James to come back. She doubted that he would. He had most likely gone back to his former life and, except for a gift-giving twinge of guilt and a weekly allowance to pay her and Katje for the upkeep on the farm, would never think about Sophia again.

She wiped the corners of her mouth and looked down, holding her womb once more. Now there was now something that mattered far more. Even if she never saw him again, James had given her a greater purpose: being the best mother she could possibly be for their child. Every decision she had to make from here on out was for both of them.

Smoothing her hand over her tender breasts and down to the skin below her navel, she smiled down at the infinitesimal outward curve of her usually flat stomach. Sophia started slowly humming the songs his father would play, hoping the baby could hear her. She wondered what she would look like this coming spring when she was showing, her belly swollen with new life.

Katje knocked on the door, "Miss Sophia?"

"Come in Katje."

"Oh, you were singing to the baby?" she said smiling as she carried in the breakfast tray bearing a bowl full of apples, the only food that Sophia could stomach right now.

"Shh... Yes. I was. Do you think he can hear me?"

"Of course he can! Izaak and I would always sing to the kinderen."

Sophia nodded, giving her a rueful smile, thinking of this woman's pain in losing her beloved husband and sons. Katje shook her head and muttered under her breath again. Sophia wrinkled her brow, "Katje is there something I'm doing wrong?"

"No, no. It's not you. I just upset. He should be here!"

Sophia felt her chest close in and thought about him. Even if she were his mistress he'd grow tired of her. Then where would she and her child be? She remembered the stories of several of the orphan girls she came of age with; tales of knowing their mothers barely, when their fathers long since abandoned them to the streets. Of mothers turned to prostitution to feed their babies, and families ripped apart. Her heart said that he would never do such a thing, but then again her heart had told her that her father would never abandon her and she was nameless before she turned ten.

Sophia ate a single bite of apple and picked out the gold gown to wear today, without the stays. She was worried about them hurting the baby. Sophia tried to remember back to what David would tell her sometimes when he got really drunk, that he had the perfect husband for her in mind. She wondered if the man David had told her about would still accept her if she already had a child by a man who had left her. The thought of being with anyone beside James made her ill, and she didn't want to lose her food again today so Sophia put that idea out of her mind. She made her way into the study, planning out the weekly menu with Katje before picking up one of David's old poetry books and nestling into a chair.

...Full nakedness! All joys are due to thee, As souls unbodied, bodies unclothed must be To taste whole joys.

She blushed and felt warmth flush her from breast to thigh at the words and couldn't help but imagine James, the wall of his chest pressed against her bosom, the twitch and dance of turgid flesh where they were meant to join, the love and passion for her in his steel gray eyes as they bored through her very soul. She tried to shake the images from her head. When the baby arrived at least she would have something to do. Katje had forbade her from working the farm now that she was the lady of the house and with child, and it left Sophia with little to do in the course of a day but think about James.

She shut her book and looked out the window. It was a sunny cool day, the beginning of September. There was no reason why she shouldn't enjoy the beautiful afternoon outdoors. Sophia watched as Katje and Aletta set off in the cart toward Ashford to gather supplies. She stared at them as the old mare slowly clopped down the road.

She had taken James's advice. Her customers begrudgingly started paying her five more shillings a canister. Even without James sending five pounds a week she was making a modest sum off of it, enough to buy a couple new yearling heifers this spring. She stood under the oak tree, feeling the cool breeze move through the leaves as he looked out across the meadows and the turns of the road.

James had loaded a week's worth of clothes into his carriage. He would send movers up to gather the rest of his belongings once he was certain he could win back Sophia, and that she would forgive him for his foolishness. He stopped at the crossroads, dressed in a gray frock and breeches now that the mourning period for his uncle was over. James climbed out and led his stallion into the shade to take a drink from the brook and set down a few carrots for him to eat. He heard another cart ambling down the road, horse hooves pounding lightly against the rain-softened earth.

"Master James! Master James! Mama, hij is teruggekeerd! He's come back!"

James looked up to see Aletta standing and waving at him in the cart as her mother tried to pull her down to sit so she wouldn't accidentally fall out the side. He flagged them down, their cart grinding to a stop at the crossroads. Katje nodded, greeting him with solemn disdain.

"It's good to see both of you. Katje, how is she? How is Sophia?" he asked in Dutch.

"Niet meer! I no talking to you about her. You ask her yourself!" Katje returned brusquely in English.

James was surprised at her tone and grew anxious. Had Sophia changed her mind about him coming back? Had he waited too long? His worry over Sophia washed out any imperious return of words he would have otherwise had for Katje, his servant, speaking to him in that tone, "All right, Katje. I'll ask her myself."

He backed away from the cart and let them continue on toward Ashford before climbing back in his chaise and turning it west toward the farm. He needed to see her immediately and would give anything to send the carriage into a full gallop, but the road was wet and treacherous now, with deep muddy ruts and sun-baked ridges everywhere. He sat patiently in the driver's seat pushing back thoughts that he may have already lost her forever.

Sophia sat down beside the oak tree, scanning the land around her. While this tree would remain green, fall would come soon and turn the ash trees brilliant gold. She looked outward to the edge of the wooded road in the distance and saw a single dark speck come around the bend. Had Katje forgotten something? She squinted her eyes to see if they were all right.

As the shape came closer, a lump formed in her throat. It wasn't a cart. It was a chaise; James's carriage. She debated whether or not to flee inside, but it would be useless to hide from him. She felt her heart pounding and worked to quiet her stomach as he drew closer.

James looked up from the road at the oak tree in front of the house looming larger on the horizon. A golden figure rose up from the ground like a specter and he watched as curly blonde hair about in the wind above an angelic golden dress. His breath caught in his chest. It was Sophia.

She stood still, paralyzed as he made his way into plain view, an unmoving expression on his face. He was dressed in silvery gray and Sophia realized that this was the first time she had seen him in anything but jet-black mourning dress. She worked to push thoughts out of her head about how handsome he was, how the edges of his frock had flared up as he leapt down from the chaise, revealing the outline of his strongly muscled thighs. James latched open the gate and grabbed the reins, leading his stallion into the yard before walking back without a word to close the gate behind him.

James felt his heart continue to beat louder as he went through the motions of arriving, the awkward silence becoming overbearing. He wanted to run to Sophia, grab her about the waist and pull her close, taste her lips and rake his fingers through her hair; to carry her up the stairs and caress her naked skin once more.

Sophia fidgeted, unsure of what to say. It was all she could do to keep the wave of excited nausea from spilling out. Her eyes welled up with tears as he slowly advanced toward her. James stood in front of her for what seemed like an eternity, not saying a word, just looking into her eyes. He reached out and brushed away a lock of hair that the wind had carried over her face. She crumpled and leaned toward him, feeling his arms close around her as she cried.

"I was a fool to leave. Please Sophia," he started, feeling her shudder against him, "there are things I need to tell you."

"James..."

He led her into the house, sitting at the very dining room table where he had first ravished her. She backed away from him and stood near the hearth as he opened his satchel and pulled out a worn parchment and held it up for her. She scanned the words, making out through her bleary eyes the title Parish Apprentice Terms of Indenture. His eyes met hers again, "You said you could never love me as long as I owned you."

Sophia's heart caught in her throat and she startled back a half step, hearing a resounding rip and then another as he tore the paper into pieces in his hands. James stood and walked toward a stunned Sophia and stooped to throw the papers into the hearth before standing in front of her again. She mouthed dry words before something finally came out, "So you are throwing me off the land because I said—"

"How can I throw you off of land you own?"

She looked up at him blankly, "I don't understand."

He led her by the wrist back to the table, pulling out a chair for her and sat down across from her. James reached into his leather satchel again and brought out another paper rolled and bound with ribbon, "Read this."

Sophia took the parchment from him and pulled the ribbon off with shaking hands, carefully unrolling the paper. Her face went white, "This is the deed to the farm..."

"Actually it's a trust. Unfortunately, the laws of the land can't give the property to you directly. This was the best I could do. I may merely protect the land for you until your... heirs inherit it," he said choking on the words or the thought of another man having his Sophia. He came out of his chair and dropping to his knees at her side.

"This... this is all I thought I ever wanted..." Sophia said, setting the paper on the table as it unrolled itself. She briefly glanced at her own name, Sophia Latwicke, on the trust before turning back to James. He was kneeling before her, anxiety written across his face.

"Sophia, I release you. You have everything you wanted from me now. The farm is yours, but I can only hope, perhaps pray, that you can forgive me enough to let me stay here with you for as long as you see fit," he said, shaking before leaning his forehead onto her thigh, "I love you and I don't want to live without you. But I will understand if you need me to leave. I was a fool and what I did to you was unforgiveable. I can only hope that this small act will help prove myself to—"

She brought her hand to his cheek and raised his face up to hers, tears running down, "James... James, when you left I only had one thing I wanted to say to you that morning..."

He froze and prepared himself for the inevitable, calculating whether he could journey back to London before nightfall or if he should stay at the inn. It was less painful than thinking about the idea of losing her, "What had you wanted to say?"

"...That I had fallen in love with you," she said, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand, "That I didn't want you to leave. That I needed you, James, as I need you now."

He looked up at her and stood, "Sophia..."

She rose out of the chair to face him and felt her lips tilt up to kiss him. He was warm and she sighed, the nausea and dizziness leaving her as she relaxed against him, feeling him capture her mouth with his. He brought his hands up to her face as she held the collar of his frock, smoothing her hands over his chest as he drew back from her to look into his eyes, "I know why you left. I read the letter you found. I was certain you thought I was going to use you to regain my place in society after you learned about my origins."

"No, that's not why. I asked the barrister about your origins when I saw that Uncle David had used your birth name, de Grey. Sophia, you were cruelly abandoned, and if the world had worked for you as I've seen it work for scores of others then your position in society wouldn't even have given mine so much as a glance. And I didn't leave because I thought you would try to regain your rightful place. I left because I was a coward."