An Unexpected Love (30 page)

Each time she spoke of death, he wanted to rush forward and yank her away from the edge. But he knew he must remain calm, or he would never get her to move away from the cliff. “Sophie, you must think of the child you carry. While it’s true you made a bad decision, ending your life and the life of your child won’t make things right.” He wished for just a moment that Hedrick were there with them. The man should see the damage he’d caused—the life-threatening pain. Sophie was suffering, and Hedrick had just walked away, no doubt to deceive yet another poor girl. Paul squared his shoulders. He had to reach her—to help her see the truth. “Sophie, please.”

Sophie dropped her arms to her sides, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps his words were making a difference. “Don’t you see, Paul? There
is
no way to make things right. That’s why I’m on this cliff.”

His heart pounded with a ferocity that made his head hurt and his ears ring.
Please, God.
“I have an idea for you, if you’ll just hear me out. Come away from the edge and sit with me and listen to what I have to say. I think you’ll agree it’s a good plan.” He edged a few steps closer.

She shook her head. “I can stay here while you tell me. There’s no need for me to move.”

“I can’t concentrate with you standing out there, Sophie. It makes me too nervous. One misstep and you could fall. Please, Sophie. I truly have a plan that will work.” He took several more steps toward her. “All I’m asking is that you give me a few minutes to tell you my idea. Surely you won’t deny me this one request, will you?” He reached to grab her hand.

“I’ll listen, but that doesn’t mean I’ll agree to anything,” she whispered.

He nodded, now clutching her tightly. “Come over under the trees, where we can sit in the shade.”
And away from the sharp rocks and water that lie beneath the overhang.

She collapsed onto the ground beside him, her body wracked by unrestrained sobs. Torso folded over bended knees, she buried her face in the layered fabric of her petticoats and skirt. He longed to pull her close and wipe away her tears. Propriety demanded he keep his distance, yet Sophie’s pain required compassion and a human touch—his touch. At least that’s what Paul wanted to believe. Pushing all decorum aside, he wrapped her in his arms and held her close, wiping away her tears, realizing his own eyes had grown moist. If only he could somehow erase her pain.

When her sobbing finally subsided, he tipped her chin and wiped away a final tear with the pad of his thumb. She attempted a smile but hiccuped instead. With a swipe of her hand, she brushed several loose strands of hair behind her ear. “I must look a mess.”

“You look absolutely beautiful. Do you know how much I love you, Sophie?” He hoped the whispered softness of his words would make them acceptable to her ears.

Palm against his chest, she pushed away from him, her eyes shining with disbelief or fear. Or was it anger? Instinctively, he grasped her hand in a firm hold so she couldn’t take flight. He had meant to instill hope, not distress, but from all appearances he’d not achieved the desired effect.

“What are you saying? I don’t want your pity.”

Although she tried to withdraw her hand, he held fast. “This isn’t pity, Sophie. I think I’ve loved you from the first moment I set eyes on you. If not then, I know I was certain that evening last summer when you fell into the water. When we were aboard the ship to England, I wanted to make my feelings known, but I had little time alone with you. It seemed there was always someone else vying for your attention.”

“I was intent upon having fun on the voyage,” she admitted. “But when I met Wesley, I wanted only to be with him.”

He nodded. “I know exactly how you must have felt.” He rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand. “Sophie, I want to marry you and give your child a name. Please believe me when I tell you that I love you and want to be your baby’s father.” He traced his finger along her cheek. “We can be happy. I know we can.”

A tear trickled down her cheek. “I can’t, Paul. I don’t love you.”

“I understand, but I still want to take care of you and the baby.”

“I’ve treated you badly since the first day we met. I don’t understand why you would want to sacrifice your future for a woman who doesn’t love you—doesn’t even believe in love anymore.”

She was studying him, watching for his reaction, so he would need to choose his words carefully. He must be honest and speak his heart, or he would turn her against him forever. “I love you. Beyond that, I can’t tell you with any assurance that I understand any better than you do. But I know it’s the right thing to do. I know I will be a good husband to you and a loving father to your child. I hope you will eventually love me, but I’m willing to take that chance, knowing it may never happen.” There. That was as much of an answer as he had at the moment, and every word was true. He could only hope she’d heard his sincerity and seen the love with which he’d spoken. He wanted to beg her not to give up on love or on life, but he knew she’d never hear a single word. The pain and betrayal that had become her life were more than she could bear right now. Sophie Broadmoor couldn’t accept that good things could still come her way. Only time would prove that true.

The sun peeked through the branches of a towering pine and teased the hem of her skirt. “I don’t know if I could ever be a good wife to you, Paul.” She stared into the distance.

He turned her chin until their eyes met. “I’ve told you that I am willing to take that chance. I understand you’ve been deeply wounded. Unfortunately, there isn’t time for your heart to mend before you choose a new path. We must think of the baby.”

A soft breeze tugged at the loose strands of hair she’d tucked behind her ear, and she whisked them away from her face. “If you truly believe this is what you want to do, I’ll agree to your plan, but I fear you’ll later regret your decision.”

“Neither of us can say for certain what we may or may not regret, but I believe with God’s help, we will have a happy family.” He smiled broadly, hoping to lift her spirits. “I believe I should speak to your father before we say anything to the others.”

“Can I at least tell Amanda and Fanny?” Sophie touched her palm to her stomach. “I’ve been holding this secret far too long, and we’ve always been so close—like sisters.” She offered a faint smile. “No. That’s not quite correct. My sisters and I aren’t at all close. We don’t get along in the least. But I do long to confide in Fanny and Amanda. Is that so inadvisable?”

Paul couldn’t deny Sophie’s request, but he hoped her cousins wouldn’t condemn her for a reckless decision that couldn’t be changed. Fanny would lend Sophie support, but he wasn’t certain of Amanda. He’d seen evidence that the oldest of the three cousins could occasionally react in a strident manner. In Sophie’s fragile state, he doubted she could withstand condemnation or rejection by either of them.

He stood and held out his hands to help her to her feet. “If you can trust them and believe they’ll tell no one else until the time is right. I wouldn’t want any of the other relatives to get wind of this until I’ve talked to your father.”

She nodded her head. “If I ask them to maintain their silence, I know neither will say a thing.”

Uncle Jonas was sitting on the front porch with a glass of lemonade perched on the wicker table when she and Paul returned. Her uncle eyed them and waved an unlit cigar in Sophie’s direction. “I was looking for Wesley. One of the maids tells me he packed his bags and departed early this morning. What’s that all about? We made plans to meet this morning and go over some further investments.” He frowned and leaned forward. “Have you been crying? It looks like your eyes are all red and puffy.”

“She’s not feeling well,” Paul replied. “I went for a walk and happened upon her.”

Jonas grunted and pointed a thumb toward the door. “Have your aunt send Mrs. Atwell to check on you. If she thinks a doctor’s necessary, I’ll send Mr. Atwell to fetch the doctor from over in Clayton.”

“I think I’ll be fine with a little rest. There’s no need for a doctor, but thank you for your concern.” She cast a glance at Paul. “Thank you for your assistance, Paul. I don’t believe I would have made it back home without you. If the two of you will excuse me, I’m going upstairs to lie down.”

“You never answered my question. When is Wesley expected to return?”

“He’s not.”

Sophie hurried inside and fled up the stairs before her uncle could question her further. Spying Veda in the hallway, she motioned the maid close. “I’m not feeling well, Veda, and I’m going to rest. If my cousins inquire, tell them I’d rather not be disturbed.”

“You want me to fetch you something, Miss Sophie?” The maid instinctively placed a hand on Sophie’s forehead. “You’re feeling a might warm. Let me help you out of your clothes, and you crawl into bed.”

Sophie didn’t argue. She didn’t have the energy.

Once Veda had helped her undress, pulled back the covers, and plumped the pillows, Sophie settled on the crisp white linens. “Don’t forget to tell the others I don’t want to be disturbed.” The maid nodded and quietly closed the door behind her. The minute she’d departed, Sophie padded across the floor and locked the door to the hallway as well as the one leading to the adjoining room shared by her cousins. She returned to bed and welcomed the feel of the cool sheets against her skin. Though she’d not felt overly tired before coming upstairs, she soon succumbed to the weariness that silently invaded her body.

She awakened to the sound of light tapping on the adjoining door and Fanny’s hushed voice. “Are you awake, Sophie?”

She rolled to her side and was surprised to see the shadows of early evening outside the window. Had she slept the entire day? The tap sounded again, but she remained still. Though she would eventually confide in her cousins, right now she wanted only to sleep. When her mother died, she’d done the same thing. Back then her father had told her that sleeping all the time was a sign of melancholy and hopelessness. He’d been correct. At the loss of her mother, she’d felt a depth of despair that had left a void. Now, she felt as though Wesley’s departure had left another hole deep inside that would never be filled. But at least this time she had a vague inkling of hope. Not that Paul would replace Wesley, but at least her baby would have a father. She must cling to that hope, or she would once again return to that precipice.

Another tap. “Sophie? It’s nearly suppertime. May I come in?”

Apparently Fanny didn’t intend to relent. “Just a moment.” Retrieving her lightweight dressing gown from the foot of the bed, Sophie tossed it around her shoulders while crossing the short distance to the door. She opened the door a crack, and Fanny slipped through before Sophie could object.

Fanny studied her for the briefest of moments. “Your color looks good, and I must say you appear refreshed. Did you sleep well?” She plopped down on the bed. “I do hope you’ll be able to sleep tonight. Sometimes when I nap during the day, I have difficulty falling asleep at night. Of course, if you’re ill, that shouldn’t happen. Amanda said Dr. Carstead told her sleep has a genuine healing force in our lives. Isn’t that interesting?”

Sophie stared at her cousin, chattering like a magpie from the moment she stepped inside the room. Fanny wasn’t acting at all like herself. Perhaps Sophie should inquire into Fanny’s well-being. She dropped onto the bed beside her cousin. “Are you . . .” Noting the glisten of a tear, she hesitated. “Fanny, why are you crying? Has something happened while I was sleeping? Please tell me.”

Fanny wagged her head. “I’ve been so worried about you. Even though Veda said you were resting, I came upstairs several times. When the door was locked, I was so worried. Uncle Jonas said that Wesley departed and you didn’t seem to know when he might return. I was afraid that maybe you’d done something foolish.”

Sophie pulled a fresh handkerchief from the drawer of her chest and handed it to her cousin. “As you can see, I’m fit as a fiddle. There’s no need for tears. However, I have no desire to join the entire family for supper.”

“I know! I’ll ask Mrs. Atwell if I can fix our plates and bring them upstairs before she announces supper. I’ll fetch Amanda, and the three of us can eat on the upper veranda. We’ll have our own dinner party. Would you enjoy that?”

“That sounds delightful. You’re sure you wouldn’t mind being away from the rest of the family?”

Fanny hugged her close. “You know I don’t enjoy the family dinners. Someone always gets in a snit about some silly matter; then the entire family is off and arguing until Aunt Victoria clinks a spoon on her water glass and calls a halt to the bickering.”

Sophie grinned. “Would you tell Paul that you’ve spoken with me and I’m taking supper upstairs with you and Amanda? I don’t want him to worry overmuch.”

Fanny’s brows knit together in confusion. “I’ll be certain to tell him.” She glanced over her shoulder when she reached the door. “Should I inform Aunt Victoria, also?”

“Oh yes. Do tell her, as well.”

Sophie waited until she heard the click of the door latch and then fell back on the pillows. Mentioning Paul’s name rekindled memories of what had happened earlier in the day. She touched a palm to her stomach. Were it not for Paul, both she and the baby would be dead. Even now she wondered if she truly wanted to live. But Paul had been right. The child should not suffer the consequences of her misdeed.

It was a hard reality to face—to realize that the love she thought she’d found had proven false. Wesley had used—seduced—her and convinced her that they were already married, for all intents and purposes. She could still hear his voice against her ear that night.

“We’re joined forever in our hearts. Our love will never die.”

So much for forever. So much for love.

She would marry Paul and have the child. Then she would decide what she wanted to do with her own life. To live or die— neither seemed all that meaningful.

You’d leave the baby motherless should you ever follow through with your earlier decision.

The thought of her baby without a mother created only a momentary pause in her deliberations. Fanny’s mother had died in childbirth, yet Fanny had become a wonderful young woman. In fact, of the three cousins, Sophie thought Fanny the most commendable. Not that Amanda didn’t have fine attributes, but she was far too bossy. Fanny was living proof that a child could be reared without a mother and still blossom into a fine adult.