Chapter 22 #2
Sophia’s defiance flickered very slightly. They were in public, and Isadora could practically see the way the girl reached for her public identity; one of a girl of years far beyond her own, who would never disappoint her father or speak back—or admit to wrongdoing.
Isadora put a hand on Nicholas’s arm. “Perhaps we could call for the carriage?” she suggested.
Nicholas looked down at her, and she thought for a moment he might reject her suggestion, but after a moment, he nodded. “Do you need accompanying home, Marie?”
“Not in the least,” his sister assured him. “I have Mr. Chant by my side, and I am more than happy to while away the afternoon in his company. My maid is chaperoning me, as you see.” She waved a vague hand behind her at a bored-looking maid.
“I see at least one of you is thoroughly enjoying themselves,” Nicholas said dryly. “Very well, far be it from me to ruin your afternoon. Sophia, come. We are returning home.”
Isadora smiled at Oliver. “I hope to see you again soon.”
“I have hopes we will.” He smiled at her, boyish and handsome, and the two parties split.
Isadora took hold of Sophia, ensuring the girl could not be separated from them in the crowd. Nicholas followed behind them, his anger tangible. It did not take them long to reach the inn where their carriage awaited, and they made their way home.
Silence bloomed between them all. Sophia did not seem inclined to say a thing, and Nicholas kept his peace until they were finally home.
Only then, once they were inside, did he pin Sophia to the floor with his gaze. “Explain.”
“Were you separated from us by the crowd?” Isadora asked. “If something like that happens, you know you can yell out for us.”
Sophia blinked. Her bottom lip quivered. Here, she looked every inch her eight years and not a day older. She clasped her hands by her stomach and looked at the floor. “No, I… I went away myself,” she admitted, her voice small.
Nicholas inhaled sharply, but once again, his voice was perfectly steady when he asked, “Why?”
“You were fighting before. So I wanted you to spend more time alone.”
“Sophia,” Isadora said, shocked. “Just because we like spending time together doesn’t mean we don’t like spending time with you. You are our family above all. Don’t you agree, Nicholas?”
“I do. However we feel is our responsibility, not yours, sweetie. You should never feel as though you need to make yourself small in order to allow others to grow. That is not what family means.”
“I married Nicholas so I could have a family,” Isadora added, crouching down to Sophia’s level.
“And family includes you. Family is you, Nicholas, and me all together. We went out for ices because we wanted to spend time together. All three of us.” She paused, choosing her words carefully.
“When your Papa and I want to spend time together, we will find a way that doesn’t involve leaving you behind.
As far as I am concerned, I’m your blood, and you are mine.
” She opened her arms, and Sophia ran into them, her small shoulders shaking.
“I just want you and Papa to be happy.”
Nicholas also knelt, wrapping his arms around the two of them. “You are my family,” he said. “Both of you. And I’m happy when I’m with you both. I’m not happy when you run away because you think you know better, Soph. You worried us.”
“I’m sorry,” Sophia mumbled.
“It’s all right.” Isadora held her tighter. “But just don’t do it again, all right?”
“I won’t.” Sophia sniffed and reluctantly pulled away, wiping at her eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Nicholas said immediately, and although Isadora watched the scene with open delight, she felt a tiny pang at the ease with which he said the words. She knew how she felt, but Nicholas had never come close to saying that to her.
The thought was a selfish one, and she pushed it away.
A meowing shape wound its way between their legs, and Sophia looked down, staring at Molly the cat. Her eyes widened.
“She’s had her kittens!”
The cat meowed again, seeming to confirm this, and trotted to the door, looking back briefly.
“She’s leading us to the kittens.” Sophia wiped her eyes again, a smile replacing her tears. “That must mean she trusts us!”
“Well, she certainly trusts you,” Isadora said, taking her hand.
They followed the cat upstairs to the same guest bedroom Sophia had hidden in all those weeks ago, and there, in the tiny in-built closet Sophia had shut herself away in, the cat led them proudly to a small nest she had made in the linen.
Tiny, blind faces peeked out, their noses wet and pink, and their eyes slitted shut. By the looks of them, they could only be a week old at most.
Isadora clasped both hands to her heart and sat back on her haunches as Sophia, the trusted cat-friend, crawled in to lie beside the nest. Molly, content with this display of affection, returned to her position by her babies, all three of which immediately squirmed, seeking her milk.
For a strange, unidentifiable reason, the sight made Isadora want to cry. Her eyes stung, and she pressed one of her hands to her mouth, holding back the emotions. Sophia, engrossed in watching the suckling kittens, didn’t notice.
But Nicholas’s hand squeezed Isadora’s shoulder. “They’ll be all right,” he whispered. “We’ll look after them.”
Isadora didn’t know how to tell him that her fear for the kittens’ safety was not why she felt so… much. The emotions were not necessarily negative, but they were overwhelming, crushing her underneath their pressure.
Nicholas’s hand moved to her neck, gently reassuring, and she scolded herself for feeling in any way jealous of Sophia’s claim to his love. She was his wife, and he treated her as such. What more could she ask for?
What more could she ever expect to want? She had her family, and they had chosen her, just as Sophia had chosen the cat and her kittens. That was what love was, wasn’t it? A choice?
Isadora leaned against Nicholas and decided to choose to trust. He had proven himself—she needed no other assurances that he wouldn’t let her down.