An Unlikely Suitor (36 page)

Actually, she usually enjoyed the tension such comments created. But tonight, Sofia didn’t want to remember her earlier mistakes. She didn’t want to harass her sister. It was almost as if
that
Sofia and the Sofia that existed now, this evening, were two different people.

A child and a woman.

What Sofia really wanted to do was talk to Lucy about Hugh. And sailing. And the connection the two of them had shared during their lunch on the water. There was an odd tightening in the pit of Sofia’s stomach every time she thought of it.

But Sofia knew Lucy’s opinion of Hugh involved his misbehavior, and some rumor about a departed maid. Sofia had no facts about what was true and what wasn’t. And she could imagine Hugh being a bit wild, especially since he was unhappy about his position in the family and his future.

But the situation with the maid? That had to be a rumor. During their time together there’d been many an opportunity for Hugh to take advantage of her, and he’d been nothing but a gentleman.

She pulled her nightgown on and rid the collar of her hair. “Hopefully tomorrow we can get a lot done on the costumes. I really like the designs you came up with.”

Lucy extinguished the lamp and got into bed. There was no “sweet dreams,”
sogni d’oro.
Back home they’d always managed to say good-night to each other, yet here . . .

Sofia didn’t like this silence between them, especially since she was the cause of it. She shouldn’t have forced her way into Lucy’s room here. She shouldn’t have looked at Lucy’s love notes. She shouldn’t have told Mamma Lucy’s secrets.

But it’s all Lucy’s fault. If only she hadn’t gotten invited to the Langdons’, traveled first class, and—

Stop it!

Sofia was surprised by the inner admonition. It was her habit to complain about what Lucy was and had, and subsequently whine about feeling like a nobody.

But tonight was different.

She was different.

Tonight she was somebody.

Somebody’s soul mate.

L
ucy fastened the top button of her navy dress, collected her hat and shoes, and with one last glance at Sofia to make sure she was still asleep, slipped out of her bedroom, through the dressing room, and into the hall.

She looked both ways, hoping no early-bird servant was up and about. The house was quiet—as it should be at five in the morning.

Lucy took the back stairs down to the basement. She heard commotion in the kitchen, so skimmed the walls, hugging the shadows. She breezed through the exterior door with only the softest click marking her exit.

Once outside she sat on a step and put on her shoes. It was safe to put them on now, for the grass would soften the sound of her tread.

Fortunately, even with few lights glowing from the interior, Lucy’s journey across the dark grounds to the Cliff Walk was not as difficult as she had assumed it would be, as the sky was already beginning to lighten.

She entered the path and took a moment to get her bearings. The sound of the ocean was muted, as if it too were still sleeping. The tide was out and the rocky shore was exposed like a child who’d kicked off the covers during the night. The water made soft
slush, slush
sounds.
Shhh. Shhh. It’s too early to get up. . . .

The sky contained a heavy sprinkling of clouds, and the barrier between sea and heavens was just beginning to announce itself as a stroke of orange red.

“It’s so beautiful,” Lucy whispered.

“As are you.”

She turned to her right and found Dante sitting on a rock wall near the Langdon property line. He stood and came to her, handing her a pink rose.

Lucy put it to her nose, inhaling its perfume.

Then he pulled her into his arms. Lucy marveled in his warmth and the way her head fit against his chest and shoulder. A perfect fit. As if it was meant to be.

“Look.” He continued to hold her but allowed her to turn her face toward the sunrise. “God is waking up the world.”

She held him tightly and felt his chin upon her hair. The band of orange widened and the first sliver of the sun slipped above the water, sending tentative rays of yellow piercing through the clouds. Lucy felt her chest tighten. “Tell it to stop, to hold, right there.”

He didn’t ruin the moment by offering logic but nodded. “Can you believe He does this every day?”

That simple fact caused her to pull away from him. “Then why is this the first time I’ve ever seen it?”

He shook his head. “Every morning and every night He puts on a show just hoping someone will take a moment to notice.”

Lucy was appalled to feel tears threaten. She put a hand to her mouth, willing them away. “I’m sorry. This is silly. To cry over a sunrise?”

He drew her close again, fully encompassing her with his embrace. “It’s never silly to cry over beauty. Ever.”

And so Lucy let her tears come. But with his permission also came a strength to let them go.

“So,” he said after she was still again. “What do you want to ask the sunrise?”

“Ask—?”

“Since so few witness the show, I like to think God is waiting for our thoughts. Our sunrise requests.”

She laughed softly at his reasoning. “And you know this how?”

He put a finger beneath her chin and raised it so he could look at her. “Because I’m here with you and my heart is overflowing.”

His kiss was like a seal, confirming all of his words. For as they kissed, Lucy sensed the sun rise above the sea, as if showing its approval, wanting to see more.

When his lips moved away from hers, he kept an arm around her shoulders, facing her toward the dawn. “God? Are you listening? I pray for a lifetime of sunrises with this woman. And sunsets. Storms and blue sky, snow and rain, fog and clear skies.”

Lucy was taken aback. Was he asking her to marry him?

“Your turn,” he said.

“I . . . I don’t know what to say.”

He turned toward her and got down on one knee. “Say yes. Marry me, Lucia.”

She let out a puff of air.

“Surely you’re not surprised?” he asked.

Was she? Ever since their first meeting she’d known their bond was special, and never had she found her thoughts so consumed by another. The need to see him and be with him completely blanketed her senses, providing warmth, protection, and comfort.

Say yes!

And yet.

And yet.

The old argument against marriage demanded attention. “But my mother and sister . . . they depend on me for everything.”

He rose from his knee but never moved his gaze from her eyes. “They can learn to depend on me.”

Lucy wasn’t sure he understood. “They don’t earn enough between them. They need—”

Dante put his fingers to her lips. “Can you stop being your family’s savior for just one minute?”

If only she could. “But they—”

He covered her words with his lips and murmured his proposal once more. “Marry me, Lucia.”

How could she refuse?

Lucy hurried back to the house. After agreeing to marry, she and Dante had lingered on the Cliff Walk, letting the sun fully rise and the waves gain momentum, applauding their promise to be together, always.

It was still early, not yet half past six, but by this time the house would be buzzing with servants.

Hopefully not Rowena. And not Sofia. Lucy was banking on her little sister’s penchant for being the last one awake.

Once in the house, Lucy removed her hat, slipped the pink rose into the sash of her dress, and lifted her skirts to more ably take the stairs. She passed one of the footmen on his way down. “Eee,” he said as he nearly collided with her. “What you been doing to get yer cheeks all rosy this morning?”

She ignored him and escaped up the stairs to the second floor. But at the sound of voices in the hall, she pulled up short. Hugh was standing outside his bedroom door, fully dressed, but in clothes casual and unkempt. His father stood in the doorway, wearing a morning suit, barring him from entry. They were the epitome of fashion do’s and don’ts.

“You cannot continue to come in at all hours, son. And what
are
you wearing?”

“I was just going to change,” Hugh said. “If you’ll excuse me, Father . . .”

Mr. Langdon put a hand on his arm, stopping him. “Were you out playing cards with your friends? How much did you lose?”

“Who said I lost anything?”

His father seemed taken aback, then stood his ground again. “Show me your winnings.”

“I don’t have them on me.”

“Because you didn’t win.”

Hugh shrugged and began unrolling his sleeves. “I’ll see you at breakfast.”

But his father wasn’t through with him yet. Mr. Langdon thrust a finger in Hugh’s face. “I’ll suffer much from you, boy, except lying.”

“I’ll remember—”

Hugh spotted Lucy standing on an upper step. Too late, Lucy put her hat behind her back.

“Well, well. It looks like I’m not the only one getting home in the wee hours.”

Lucy raised her chin and strode past them. “I was merely taking a morning constitutional. I enjoy the brisk air.”

“And brisk it is,” Hugh said.

As she passed the two, Lucy nodded at Mr. Langdon. “Good morning, sir.”

“What about me?” Hugh asked. “Don’t I get a good morning?”

“Shush, boy.” His father shoved him into his room. “I’ll expect you down to breakfast at eight.”

Lucy rushed to the door of the dressing room and entered before Mr. Langdon had time to question her. Once inside, she leaned against the door and caught her breath.

“Where have you been?”

Sofia stood in the doorway to their room, buttoning her blouse.

Lucy strode past her.

As soon as their door was closed, Sofia pounced. “Were you out with
him
?”

How she wanted to throw her engagement in Sofia’s face. But she couldn’t. Not until the time was right.

And that right time would be . . . ?

Lucy busied herself making her bed. “You’re too young, Sofia. You wouldn’t understand.”

Her sister tossed a pillow at Lucy’s face. “I am not too young! I’m grown-up too.”

Lucy threw the pillow back and laughed at Sofia’s petulant words. Which was the wrong thing to do.

Sofia pulled all the sheets off Lucy’s bed, then did the same to her own. Lucy stepped back, crossed her arms in front of her chest, and waited for the tantrum to end.

“Do you feel better now?”

Sofia was out of breath, her hair half covering her face. “Much.”

Lucy checked her own hair in the mirror before heading to the door. “Now you have two beds to make. I need to help Rowena dress. I’ll see you at the workroom later.”

Upon leaving, Lucy heard a pillow graze the back side of the door.

Sofia walked amid the fallen covers, kicking them around, but also getting her legs entangled.

She sat at the foot of her bed to be rid of the burden, then fell back, exhausted. Although her first instinct was to lash out at Lucy, the words that came from her mouth were aimed at herself. “Why do you let yourself do such things?”

There was no answer, or at least none she wanted to hear.

She thrust her arms straight out from her sides, letting them bounce upon the thin mattress. “I hate being young!”

Suddenly, she heard a muffled man’s voice. “You’re not so young,” it said.

Sofia sat upright and held her breath. “Hello?”

There was a tap on the wall. “How are you this morning, Sofia?”

The voice was coming from the next room! She scurried to the wall, pressing her cheek against it. “Hugh?”

“I’m here, beautiful lady.”

Lady, he called me a lady!

Suddenly, as if a lamp had been lit, she realized she was only a child if she chose to be. To Hugh, she was a grown woman, and better than that, a lady.

She touched her forehead to the wall and pressed her hands flat against it. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.
Je t’adore
, Sofia.”

She didn’t know exactly what he said, but she understood the meaning. He cared for her, he really, truly cared for her.

“I—”

But before she could finish, he said, “I’ll come see you today. I promise. Until then . . .”

“Until then,” she said.

Sofia lingered against the wall, wishing it would disappear so she could be with Hugh face-to-face.

Until then.