An Unexpected Love (19 page)

Sophie found her emotions a mix of happiness and sorrow. A year ago in December her mother had died without warning. The year since had proven to be harder on Sophie than she liked to admit. She’d filled it with a variety of activities and ambitions, but nothing had given her much comfort. Well, nothing but Wesley, and that’s where she cushioned her sorrow with joy. She struggled to contain her excitement. She’d thought this day would never come. Wesley’s letter stated he would arrive on the twenty-second of December, and she’d marked off each day on her calendar. Thinking of Wesley had helped her to ignore the anniversary of her mother’s passing. Not that her sisters had made it easy. They loved to moan and mourn. On two different occasions, within days of each other, they had invited Sophie and their father to dinner, only to go on and on in tearful conversations about their loss. It had put Father in a dreadful state and hadn’t helped Sophie much, either. Still, there was always Wesley’s visit to think about.

Now that the day had arrived, her anticipation climbed to new heights. Wondrously, Aunt Victoria had extended an invitation for Wesley to stay in their home. And then she’d offered for Sophie to come and stay with Amanda and Fanny during Wesley’s visit. Things couldn’t have been planned more perfectly had she made the arrangements herself.

She’d placed all of her gowns on the bed. Thankfully, Aunt Victoria had promised she would send Veda to pack Sophie’s clothing and then have the trunks delivered to their house. She simply had no talent when it came to arranging her belongings in bags or trunks. Father had dismissed most of their servants after Mother had died, and it was only at her insistence that he had kept the housekeeper. And just last September he’d added a cook when the housekeeper announced she was unable to keep up with that duty, as well. He hadn’t liked the extra expense, but even Sophie’s sisters reasoned that it was the only way.

After pinning her hat in place, Sophie scribbled a note to remind her father of her whereabouts. He never remembered what she’d told him from one day to the next, and although she had mentioned Wesley’s arrival on several occasions, Sophie doubted he would recall that today was the date she’d been anticipating since arriving back home.

Snow fell in fat, heavy flakes that rapidly covered the deep grooves created by the carriage wheels. The damp cold cut through her heavy cloak, and Sophie shoved her hands deep into her fur muff. In the past, she had always loved the snow, especially at Christmastime, but not now, not today. Not when Wesley was due to arrive. She didn’t want anything to impede his arrival. The thought of seeing him sent a lingering warmth through her midsection. “Please don’t let anything keep him away,” she whispered, snuggling deeper into the cushioned carriage seat.

She’d already purchased and wrapped Christmas gifts for both Fanny and Amanda. Although the family always gathered for Christmas dinner and celebration, gift exchanges were held privately at each home. Years ago someone had declared the family far too large for such an exchange, and the practice had terminated the following year. Sophie was pleased it hadn’t ceased while she was a small child, for she’d always looked forward to the pile of gifts each Christmas and thought it unfair to the young children when the tradition was stopped. Sophie had no say in such family decisions, but she, Amanda, and Fanny had vowed they would never stop exchanging gifts at Christmas and on birthdays—and they hadn’t. Withdrawing her hand from her muff, she pulled the bag that contained the gifts close to her side. She hadn’t entrusted that task to Veda.

Now she must decide what she would give Wesley. She’d been thinking on the matter ever since he had accepted her invitation to spend Christmas in Rochester. Until that morning, she’d had no idea what gift might please him. But when she’d been laying out the items for Veda to pack, her gaze had settled upon the beautifully framed picture of her mother, the one Sophie had kept near her bedside ever since her mother’s death. Having the picture near was a comfort to Sophie. Thinking of Wesley, Sophie knew she’d cherish a picture of him and wondered if he would like one of her. With the distance that separated them, she hoped he would enjoy something that would constantly bring her to mind.

Of course, she didn’t know if she would have sufficient time to have a picture taken, especially if the snow continued to fall. But she hoped to convince her cousins to accompany her into town. If all else failed, she could at least purchase a frame and write a note telling him she would sit for her photograph and mail it to him. Yes, a photograph of her would be the perfect gift. She would ask her cousins for their opinions. If they rejected her idea, Sophie would require them to furnish her with a spectacular substitute. She doubted they could think of quite so perfect a gift.

After bringing the team of horses to a halt in front of her uncle’s home, the carriage driver opened the door. “Careful of your step, miss. It’s slippery on this wet snow.” Sophie clutched his outstretched hand in a tight hold, but the sole of her leather slipper slid from beneath her the moment her foot touched the ground. The carriage driver tightened his grasp while stretching for her other arm with his free hand. He struggled valiantly to keep her upright, but when she grappled for his free hand, her feet slipped from beneath her, and both of them tumbled into the fallen snow. They were a tangled mix of livery wear and silk gown sprawled across the sidewalk like a hideous Christmas decoration.

The driver managed to disentangle himself and, after several gallant attempts, was able to gain a foothold and maintain an upright position. “I’m so sorry, miss. I do hope your cloak protected your dress to some extent.” He forced a smile while assisting her to her feet. “At least the snow is clean, and it permitted us a softer landing.”

“True, but it’s that very snow that caused our fall.” Clinging to the driver’s arm, Sophie rescued her fur muff from the snow.

“That was quite a sight, Sophie. Could you do it again? Jefferson missed it the first time.” Both George and Jefferson stood on the front porch, doubled in laughter.

She leaned down, scooped up a handful of the wet snow, and deftly formed it between her hands. “Don’t let me fall,” she commanded the carriage driver before she circled her arm in a wide arc and hurtled the snowball at her cousins. “Perfect!” she cried when the icy sphere made a direct hit on George’s leg.

He jumped and squealed in pain as the carriage driver looked back and forth between the young men on the porch and his passenger. “Shall I escort you to the front door?”

Sophie gave a nod. “Both of you go inside the house. This poor carriage driver is afraid to come any closer while you’re outside.”

She could see a wide grin split George’s face. “I’d be pleased to come and help you up the walkway, Sophie.” He took several steps toward them, and Sophie pointed a warning finger.

“You best go back into the house, or I’ll be forced to report your uncivilized behavior to your father.”

Jefferson cackled. “
Our
uncivilized behavior? We merely laughed at you.
You’re
the one throwing snowballs.”

“Go inside!” Sophie stomped her foot and once again nearly landed on the snow-covered ground. Her cousins chortled with delight while she did a quick shuffle to maintain an upright position. The driver glanced longingly toward his awaiting carriage. No doubt he’d be willing to pay her if he could escape without threat of being pummeled by a snowball.

Her cousins backed slowly toward the front door. When they eventually retreated inside, the driver retrieved Sophie’s bag, containing everything except her gowns, from the carriage and then escorted her up the front steps. She handed him an additional coin from her reticule. After enduring a tumble in the snow and braving the possibility of being bombarded by snowballs from her cousins, he deserved even more, but she must save enough to purchase Wesley’s gift.

The driver touched a finger to his hat and carefully made his way back to the conveyance. Already fresh snow had filled their tracks. After wiping the remains of wet snow from her coat, Sophie proceeded inside, where George and Jefferson awaited her with gleeful smiles.

“You needn’t look so pleased. Both the driver and I could have been injured falling on the sidewalk.”

Jefferson snorted. “Perhaps the driver. He did appear somewhat scrawny. But you, my dear cousin, have ample padding to protect you against any such injury.”

“
What?
” Hands on hips, Sophie’s elbows jutted forward at an angle that invited confrontation. “Are you saying I’m overly plump?”

Eyes gleaming, they shook their heads in unison. Jefferson pointed at her skirts. “I was referring to your skirts and coat, Sophie.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said, shrugging out of her cloak and handing it to the maid, who had apparently heard the flying barbs and come scurrying to the foyer.

“Your coat is quite damp, Miss Sophie. Oh, and your gown, too. Let’s go upstairs and get you out of your wet clothes before you catch your death.” Minnie, Aunt Victoria’s longtime maid, stepped toward the stairway with a determination that caused George and Jefferson to jump out of the way.

Sophie jabbed a finger at Jefferson’s chest when she passed by. “We’ll finish this discussion later,” she hissed.

“Indeed we will,” George replied for both of them, rubbing his leg.

Sophie didn’t miss his meaning. She’d need to be on the lookout each time she left the house. George and Jefferson would likely be lying in wait with a heaping mound of snowballs. She followed Minnie to the upper hallway and into the bedroom adjacent to Amanda’s room.

The maid signaled for Sophie to turn around. “Let me help you out of your gown, and I’ll see that it’s dried, pressed, and returned this afternoon.”

“No.” She wagged her head. “I have nothing else to wear. My trunks aren’t to be delivered until later, and I must go out.”

“You have no choice, Miss Sophie. You can’t go out in these wet garments.”

Sophie took a backward step. “Where is Amanda? If I force myself into one of her corsets, I should be able to fit into one of her gowns.”

“She and Miss Fanny are in the music room. I’ll go fetch her.”

Once Minnie had gone off in search of her cousin, Sophie paced a circle in front of the fireplace. Perhaps the fire would radiate enough heat to magically dry her gown. Unfortunately, it appeared to be having little effect. How had she managed to get so wet? The carriage driver’s uniform must be frozen solid. She shivered at the thought.

“Sophie!” Arms outstretched, Amanda entered the room and enveloped Sophie in a hug.

“We didn’t know you’d arrived.” Fanny embraced Sophie once Amanda had released her hold. “Minnie tells us you took a tumble in the snow.”

“Yes, and I must go shopping before Wesley arrives. Would you fetch me one of your corsets and gowns, Amanda? One that isn’t too tight.” Sophie turned and stood still while Minnie began unfastening the row of tiny ivory buttons.

“I think my clothing would be the better fit,” Fanny said. “Perhaps somewhat shorter than required, but you can wear one of Amanda’s long cloaks, and no one will be the wiser.” Fanny raced from the room and soon returned with a corset and a pink-and-gray-striped day dress. “This will work, I think.”

Once out of her soggy gown, Sophie dismissed Minnie. “My cousins will help me dress. I’m certain you have matters of greater import that need your attention.”

The maid draped Sophie’s gown over one arm and nodded. “Indeed. Drying and pressing this gown for one. And with Veda gone to pack and fetch your clothing, I must see to her chores, as well.” She shook her head and clucked
tsk-tsk
several times before leaving them alone.

While her cousins helped cinch her into the corset, Sophie elicited their opinions. They both agreed that a photograph and frame would be the perfect Christmas gift.

“Will you come with me?”

Amanda glanced out the window. “I don’t know if we should go out with it snowing like this.”

“This is Rochester, Amanda. Don’t act as though we’ve never been out in the snow before. It will be fun.”

Fanny quickly agreed, and soon Sophie had convinced Amanda she should join them. They discovered Maurice, one of the Broadmoor liverymen, in the kitchen enjoying a cup of coffee and a molasses cookie. He appeared none too happy over the prospect of driving them into town for their shopping foray, but they all knew he had little choice in the matter. After a final gulp of his coffee, he agreed to meet them at the front of the house in half an hour. Shoving the remainder of the cookie into his mouth, he headed out the side door toward the carriage house.

“What are the three of you up to?” George called out as they passed the large library Uncle Jonas used as his office.

“We’re going—” Amanda started.

Sophie put her finger to her lips and shook her head. “I’ll explain later,” she whispered. Peeking around the door, she pointed upstairs. “We’re going to Amanda’s room to choose the dresses we plan to wear this evening.”

“Is that all the three of you have to do?” He gazed at the ledgers spread across the desk.

Uncle Jonas thought both of his younger sons far too lazy and had placed George in charge of keeping books for the flour mill, the one remaining business the family still owned. And he’d charged Jefferson with overseeing the mill operation, although Jefferson spent little time at the task. Both of the young men had encouraged their father to sell the mill, but it was an asset Hamilton Broadmoor had required to remain in the family. It was, after all, a symbol of Broadmoor success. It was Grandfather’s first business venture—the place that had provided enough income to build the Broadmoor family fortune and to permit future investments. Obviously Uncle Jonas thought work for the Daisy Flour Mill would mature his sons. Sophie doubted her uncle’s strategy, but who could say? She had changed since meeting Wesley. Perhaps a bit of work would have a positive effect upon George and Jefferson.

“Where’s Jefferson?” Sophie innocently asked George.

“He needed to go down to the mill and decided to go before the weather turned any worse. He should be back in a couple hours if you’d like to continue that snowball fight.” He gave her an exaggerated wink.