Sophia darted in the direction Anne had gone, hoping the duke wouldn’t follow. But she could hear his footsteps pounding behind her. She’d never get time alone with the child if he didn’t allow it. But she had to admit that she enjoyed spending time with him. In fact, she more than enjoyed it; she relished it.
She’d never met a man who’d made her forget her mission. Who made her want to conform to his world. Who made her want to be more to him than a faerie who would heal them all and then disappear. She shook the thoughts away. They would get her nowhere. She couldn’t live in this world. She simply could not. Unpardonable Error Number Five: Never, ever fall in love with a human.
When she rounded the corner, she found Anne in a fit of tears on a bench. Her list was torn into small pieces that littered the ground. Sophia turned to Ashley and raised a brow. He mouthed “temper tantrum” at her and started toward his daughter. But Sophia held up a hand to stop him. He paused, imitated her brow raise, and motioned with his hand for them to continue. But something told Sophia he wouldn’t wait too long to take the situation in hand. His hand probably involved tossing Anne over his shoulder and delivering her to her chambers. To her nurse. That was the last thing the girl needed.
“It’s regrettable that the treasure hunt has ended so abruptly. I had so looked forward to it,” Sophia said absently. Then she turned to walk back down the path the way she’d come. She motioned for Ashley to follow.
“Where are you going?” Anne sobbed out.
Sophia turned back only briefly to say, “I had anticipated a treasure hunt. But all I see is a beastly little girl who’s throwing a fit. I can find better entertainment elsewhere.”
Anne jumped to her feet and screamed at the top of her lungs, her face turning redder than anyone Sophia had ever seen in a temper-fit before. “I can’t find anything on the list!” She stamped her foot so hard it made Sophia want to wince for her.
Sophia looked down at the scattered remains of the list Ashley had given her. He watched, his expression slightly amused while Anne wasn’t looking. Did he think she would be taken down by a little girl? A faerie? Taken down by a mere slip of a human? She’d faced spiders, for God’s sake. Not very likely. “No one can find anything on the list once it has been torn to pieces.” Sophia reached for Ashley’s elbow and slid her arm inside. “Will you escort me back to the house, Your Grace? It appears as though your daughter is bound for embroidery.”
“Absolutely,” he murmured as he turned to walk back toward the house.
“But what about me?” Anne said from behind them.
“Messes are not allowed in my garden. A fact of which you are well aware of, Anne.” He nodded toward the remains. “Clean it up and go find your grandmother.” Then he walked back toward the garden door with Sophia in tow.
“Did I do all right?” he murmured at her, dipping his head only slightly.
“You did beautifully,” she whispered back, afraid she was probably much too happy about the current state of events. “You place too much importance on her attitude. And not enough on the detriment she causes to herself with her tantrums.”
“You speak as though you’ve experience with children, Sophie.” Sophie, not Sophia.
She had plenty of experience with children. She couldn’t explain it to him. But he was the first person who’d ever made her want to. That was saying something, wasn’t it? “Some,” she said with a shrug. “Now she doesn’t get to hunt for treasure at all.” She nudged him by leaning into him. “What would you have done if I hadn’t been there? Delivered her back to her nurse?”
He thought about it a moment. “Probably. But then she would have gotten my attention, no matter whether it was good or bad. And that was probably her goal all along?”
“Precisely,” Sophia said. “In fact, I bet she’s so awed by your lack of concern over her actions that she’s planning to fix it.”
Just then, Anne raced around them, clutching the pieces in her hand. “I can put it back together,” she said breathlessly, looking more than a little uncertain about her approach.
“Put back together the party?” Ashley asked. “After your tantrum, I highly doubt you can rekindle the spirit with which the party was intended.”
Sophia squeezed his arm. He looked down at her briefly. Then he took a deep breath and said, “But I suppose you can try.”
Lady Anne crossed to the table and began to restore the torn parchment. She pressed it flat with her fingertips. But as she began to put the pieces together, her brow furrowed.
“Should I go and help her?” Ashley murmured.
“No. She should clean up her own messes,” Sophia stated clearly. She firmly believed it. And hoped he saw the value of it. The value of her.
When Anne had them assembled appropriately, she called to her father. “Can you help me find the treasures?”
Since she hadn’t called to Sophia, she didn’t respond. But she nudged Ashley. He approached and peered over his daughter’s shoulder. “Read what it says,” he prompted.
She began hesitantly, whispering the words to herself very quietly. She turned the paper slightly, peering across a torn section. She looked toward the duke. “My eyes are blue.”
“They are,” he affirmed. “Just like mine.” He tweaked her nose. “You look a lot like your mother. But some things you got from me.”
She grinned broadly at him before she dashed off into the garden.
“I wrote a riddle about her eyes,” Ashley explained, before he took a deep breath and faced Sophia. “Thank you,” he said. His blue eyes danced everywhere but on her face. Then his eyes met hers. “For handling my daughter. I don’t know how you did it.”
“I didn’t,” she said. “You did.”