Page 56 of The Redemption of the Shrew

The only other person besides Elspeth who knew anything about her stupid tendre for Philippe was his sister, Sophie. Memories tumbled into her mind: Sophie at the school more often than before, Sophie blushing in Mr. Alexander’s office, Sophie in the kitchen with him, drinking tea.

“Sophie Brun told you.”

He shrugged, but the uneasiness on his face belied the casual gesture.

Well, now. Sophie was French, so perhaps less concerned about propriety than most English ladies. She was a widow, too, and therefore less likely to blush and bridle about physical love. But she wouldn’t discuss her brother’s amours with just anyone . . .

“You are lovers,” Gloriana pronounced. “Aren’t you?”

Again, he shrugged. “For several months now.”

Gloriana sighed with envy. “How very lovely for you both.”

His brows shot up. “You don’t object?”

“Why should I?”

“Because if we are caught, it will be bad for the school’s reputation. I have asked her to marry me, but she evades the question, perhaps because her brother will disapprove—and yet, she says he will not mind that she has a lover.” Mr. Alexander paused, his mouth wry. “I don’t suppose he means it. It’s probably to stop her from urging him to take you to bed.”

Gloriana felt herself blush again. “She means well, but it is impossible. I am an unmarried woman, not a widow like Sophie. I cannot take a lover on a whim.”

“So why not marry him?” he asked bluntly.

“Because he does not love me.” Somehow she managed to say it coolly, calmly, and without the slightest show of emotion. “It is a physical attraction and a great nuisance, but it’s nothing more.” She did not intend to discuss this further. “I see no reason why you should not marry Sophie. Why should Philippe disapprove? Because you are not gently-bred? He won’t care about that.”

“Sophie says the same, but I am not so sure. He is a marquis.”

“Yes, but he is not a hypocrite. He truly believes in equality. As long as he feels that you love her and will care for her . . . Ah. It is because of your reputation.”

Mr. Alexander let out an exasperated breath. “Maybe. A few women in any other man’s past are nothing, but a clergyman must adhere to a different standard.”

“You weren’t cut out for the church,” she said.

“Not at all, but my adopted father chose that profession for me, and gratitude obliged me to obey.” Moodily, he added, “I liked the charitable work, but after my wife died, several women in the parish pursued me. When I gave in to the advances of a lusty widow, her rivals complained about me to the bishop.”

“Poor Mr. Alexander,” she said. “Philippe has the selfsame difficulty with too-eager women. He should sympathize.”

“Perhaps, but men tend to be overprotective where their sisters are involved. Sophie insists that he will not object, and yet she panics when I suggest meeting him. As for marrying . . .” He blew out a breath. “To tell the truth, Miss Glow, I’m not sure she wants to.”

“Oh.” Because Sophie didn’t love him? Then how could she be his lover for months? It was incomprehensible—and horrid. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said. “I can be content either way, but the secrecy is difficult, and if I get her with child, she won’t have a choice.” He cocked his head to one side. “Has Sophie told you anything about her earlier life—her husband, or her escape from France?”

“No,” Gloriana said, pondering. “It never came up in conversation, and I never thought it proper to ask.”

“She has not told me, either,” Mr. Alexander said. “It’s another subject she refuses to discuss. What do you know about her brother’s past?”

“Only that he escaped from France during the Terror, that he rescued a number of aristocrats, and that he dedicates his efforts to improving the lot of the lower classes through peaceful reform.” She wasn’t about to mention Philippe’s thievery—although Mr. Alexander had probably realized that in the tavern with Mr. Cartway. Curiosity gripped her. Why had she never inquired deeply into his past? “What has Sophie told you?”

“Just that he left his family as a youth and worked for a living, when he could have lived in luxury,” Mr. Alexander said. “He would have gone to the guillotine if he’d done so, but he couldn’t have known that. She says nothing about her part in all this—her marriage, her children, their escape . . . nothing. I don’t understand why.”

“Do you want me to ask Sophie about it?”

He put up his hands in a fending-off gesture. “No. She will tell me when she is ready.”

All of which made her realize how much she didn’t know about Philippe. How could she be expected to understand him if she didn’t even try?

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