Lord Harry's Daughter by Evelyn Richardson Page B

had joined them. This was the officer whose name had made her ordinarily self-possessed daughter flush self-consciously. He was certainly an impressive-looking man even in his travel-stained uniform. But Sophia had been surrounded by such men all her life. What was it that was so unusual about this particular man?
    “Well, not your daughter precisely, but her talent."
    “Oh.” This explanation did nothing to clarify the situation for Lady Curtis.
    By this time Sophia had come forward to join her mother. “How may I help you, Major?"
    “I have two peasants over at headquarters. They were both waiting for me when I returned from San Sebastian. Each one carries a tale of massive French troop movements; however, one tells me that a large French force is marching toward the Maya pass on our right and that there are rumors another force of equal size is on its way to the pass at Roncesvalles. The other, who claims to be with the Mina, insists that they are massing to cross the Bidassoa and preparing to strike for San Sebastian. Now I have met Mina himself and I could probably test the truth of this man's story by asking him to take me to the guerrillas’ stronghold, but I do not have time. General Curtis"—Mark nodded at Sophia's mother—"has the Seventh and the Light divisions held in reserve and needs to know whether to send them to help Graham at San Sebastian, Stewart at Maya, or Cole at Roncesvalles. I need to know immediately which man to believe. I recall hearing that Miss Featherstonaugh, with her skill at reading character, was once able to tell that Ponsonby's batman was innocent of a crime everyone else thought him guilty of. I need someone like that now, someone who can tell me which man to trust."
    Mark moved over to smile down at Sophia. “From what I have seen of your portraits you are able to see through to a man's very soul. Can you do that now for me?"
    “I do not know. I do not think...” Sophia looked up into the dark eyes. There was a warmth in them that almost seemed like admiration, a special expression meant only for her, an expression that only she could understand. He needed her. He needed her skill, a skill that no one else possessed. She drew a deep breath. “Very well, I shall try, but..."
    “Thank you. I know you can do it.” It was almost a whisper, soft and intimate, as though no one else were in the room.
    She stood for a moment, transfixed by the look in his eyes and the current of understanding that seemed to run between them, a current so strong it was almost visible. A warm tide of happiness swept over her. She was needed after all. There was something she could do at last after all these years of waiting helplessly among men who marched and suffered and died for their country. Now she could do something for her country, too. This man had seen it. He had appreciated it. He had given her a chance. “Just let me get my shawl and my things. I shall not be a minute.” Sophia hurried out of the room.
    “May I get you some refreshment. Major?” “What? Oh, ah, no thank you. I am fine, thank you.” Lady Curtis smiled. She had spoken more out of a desire to discover the major's state of mind than to offer him her hospitality. It had seemed to her, watching her daughter and the major out of the corner of her eyes, that this soldier affected Sophia strongly. She had never seen her daughter respond to anyone quite this way before and she was curious to see whether or not the encounter had the same effect on the gentleman as it had on the lady. Where she was breathless, he seemed abstracted. Where she flushed and smiled self-consciously, he seemed to retreat into his own world, and after their discussion, he had been surprised to discover that Lady Curtis was still in the same room with him. But no matter how dissimilar their reactions might be, they led this particular observer to the same conclusion—there was some special bond that drew these two together, some secret understanding