by Sharon Sobel
“But it is only a sprain,” Sophy objected faintly.
“Severe sprains can be quite debilitating. It takes surprisingly little to leave one incapacitated for long periods.” Doctor Evans’s serious tone silenced Sophy. His sternness warmed to affection as he reached for Teddy, tousling his hair. “You watch yourself on that ice so you can take care of your aunt. Don’t you slip, too.”
Even as her alarm subsided a sense of dread lingered. Her return to America was a mere month away. What if she were unable to resume her duties by then? She thought of the children on the edge of the Missouri frontier. Without her, they would have no one to teach them.
Worse, Sophy had promised the ministry she would return for another session. She had been raised to keep her word. She felt not only a deep commitment to the Mission Society but an obligation to fulfill her obligations to them.
She swallowed, forcing a smile as she glanced down at Teddy curled up beside her. She tried to put her fears aside so he would not notice her worry and blame it on himself.
“That’s good advice, Teddy,” she said quietly, hugging him close to her. “Don’t follow Aunt Sophy’s example.”
Even if she took the doctor’s advice and stayed off her feet, it might not be possible for her to return to teaching, as she had planned. Her mission work meant she often had to walk miles between pioneer settlements where she taught the children of traders and fur trappers, whose families generally traveled westward into areas where no churches or schools had been built.
Her heart sank as she contemplated what they would do without her. The British Mission Society depended upon her not only for her teaching skills but for her courage and physical strength. Reverend Bixby and his team would find it difficult without her.
She was aware of Teddy gazing up at her with solemn eyes, as if his world were about to collapse without her forgiveness. “I’m sorry, Aunt Sophy,” he lisped, his childlike guilt breaking her heart. “I didn’t mean to make you fall. I feel bad.”
“It isn’t your fault, my pet,” she assured him softly, slipping her arm about his small shoulders and drawing him closer.
It’s that man’s, she thought irritably. The image of Jeremy St. Laurent standing beside the pond remained stubbornly in her thoughts, refusing to leave.
Her throat constricted with acceptance of her plight, but she managed to bid Doctor Evans farewell as her mother promised to ensure her daughter heeded his advice. Her mother and Teddy remained after he departed with Barclay leading the way. Tears pricked behind her eyes, but she held them at bay until her mother offered a sweet from her pocket in exchange for Teddy’s agreement to play with his sister. Tears fell openly as her mother seated herself on the edge of the bed after Teddy left.
“Why? How could this happen?” Sophy burst out between sobs. “For a mere moment of pleasure the payment is weeks of recuperation.”
“It does indeed seem a rather steep price,” her mother commiserated softly, “but most likely it won’t be months. Rather than running back to your responsibilities, mayhap this is a sign that it is time for you to pause and savor your blessings.”
Sophy reached for the lace handkerchief on her nightstand and blew her nose noisily, comforted by her mother’s presence. She had forgotten how uplifting Mama could be under the worst of circumstances and wished she could be more like her. Sylvan, the family’s spaniel, made his way toward the bed, wagging his tail at her sniffling in an effort to comfort her. She reached down to pat his head absently.
“What do you mean?” Sophy took a deep breath as her mother’s steady hand stroked her back and smoothed her long dark curls.
“I know how much your work means to you,” her mother said, “and Reverend Bixby will miss you sorely, I am sure. But your family has missed you as well, especially the children. This is the time you belong here with us. ’Tis Christmas after all.”
“And I am here.” Irritated by her mother’s obvious remark, she prepared to defend herself against the expected criticism.
“Yes, you are here for a matter of weeks before you are off again to a foreign land far from your family. Jonathan and Susannah recognized you, but Teddy and Emily were little when you left. They knew you only because you were the one they didn’t recognize. You are the aunt they barely remember.”
Her mother’s tone was patient, but Sophy heard a weariness in it that gave her a twinge of guilt. Before she could voice her objections, her mother startled her by guessing her thoughts.
“I understand you are grown now, and I know how you love to travel and share your excitement at discovering new places,” her mother continued, a smile wavering on her lips. “Yet you are my one and only daughter and my youngest. You and your brothers were always competitive as children. You are still competing with them. They finished their travels years ago, yet you want to travel more than they ever did.”
Sophy did not resist when her mother took her hand firmly. Her mother’s grip was still strong.
“But you know my travels have purpose and meaning to them,” Sophy protested.
“A most important purpose. But so much travel for a proper young lady is unseemly, even in the name of religion. And now that Mrs. Amesbury has passed on, it is hardly appropriate for you to return without a chaperone,” her mother reminded her gently. “I daresay the American wilderness is no place for a young woman like yourself who has reached her childbearing years. Your letters worried me so with their descriptions of the Indian wars.”
Sophy grimaced but refrained from criticizing her brother. She had written Barclay in confidence about the Indian raids upon the villages where she had stayed, a confidence not intended for her mother’s ears.
“Poor Mrs. Amesbury,” her mother continued with a polite shudder. “I suppose she was lucky it was her heart and not Indians that killed her.”
“The raids are done, Mama,” Sophy protested. “Missouri signed a treaty to put an end to them. It’s a much more civilized place now, one that’s growing. There is a great need for someone to teach the children. You always told us charity was important.”
“And it is, child,” her mother agreed, laying a tender but firm hand on hers. “But you have done your share, and the children of countless families have benefited from your efforts.”
Persistent twinges of pain in Sophy’s ankle reminded her that the doctor had not exaggerated the need for rest. “Then you see how important it is that I return so I may continue.”
“Perhaps the Lord has decided it is time you learn a lesson. Try to look upon this as a sign from above, to listen rather than speak. Maybe you are meant to stay home for a change.”
Suggesting her daughter get some sleep, she squeezed Sophy’s hand a final time before she extinguished the lamp and let herself from the room quietly.
Sophy was saved the struggle of having to quiet her fears long enough to nod off. Sleep lost its chance to overtake her with the return of her brother Barclay, who slipped into her room while looking furtively over his shoulder to make sure their mother was not listening. When he was satisfied they would be alone, he closed the door behind him, lit the lamp by the door, and came to sit beside her. He perched at the foot of her bed like a pesky crow they used to chase from the moors where they played as children.
“I know you feel as Mother does, but don’t sit near my foot,” Sophy warned crossly, turning over and sitting up in bed.
“You’ll have plenty of time to rest the foot. It’s not as if you’re going anywhere. I’ll keep you home any way I can, Soph.” Barclay gave her a smile as he moved to a chair. “It’s so deuced good to have you back at Deervale Hall where you belong. It’s about time you got over this wanderlust and stayed put for awhile.”
“It isn’t by choice, Bark.” Trying to keep her voice steady, Sophy changed the subject. “I didn’t expect to see Viscount Cobleigh at the pond. �
��Twas the sight of him that made me fall. You might have told me you were planning a house party.”
Had he told her he’d invited Jeremy for the holidays, she thought darkly, she might have departed early.
“I intended to, you know. I didn’t get to tell you St. Laurent was coming until it was too late,” he lamented. “I’d no idea he would go directly to the pond. He’ll be joining the other fellows I’ve invited that I told you about. Two arrived this afternoon, one with his sister, and the last comes this evening.”
The awkward apology hung in the air between them. It made perfect sense to Sophy that Jeremy St. Laurent would return to the pond. It had been the setting of many of their most precious childhood memories.
Her initial reaction was anger toward Barclay for inviting him. It was no wonder he had not asked her opinion. He knew she would reject the idea of including Jeremy in their holiday plans. The pain in her ankle being more than enough to contend with, Sophy decided not to discuss her resentment toward the viscount with her brother. Jeremy had made his choices years before and would have to abide by them.
“It might have been better had I known,” she said simply. “With an impediment such as this, it’s difficult to have callers.”
“St. Laurent called here briefly on his way home to Cheshire for a short visit with his father,” Barclay explained, “though he shall return to us for the holidays. He only waited to hear the doctor’s assessment of your condition before setting off.”
Her dismay at the idea of Jeremy’s presence with them this holiday must have shown on her face, for he spoke up at once.
“Anyway, there’s no need to have a fit of the sullens over this,” Barclay said. “Jeremy knows a bit about medicine. You can get his opinion about your foot. Among other things, I understand he delivered babies during the war.”
Sophy kept her disappointment to herself until Barclay filled the ensuing silence with attempts at consolation.
“You needn’t feel as if you must entertain our guests,” he hastened to assure her. “They’re tolerable sorts of fellows who will understand. You can simply retire to your room if you don’t feel like facing everyone.”
“Harry and Jane will think it graceless of me.”
“As the oldest brother the weight of responsibility for our family is on his shoulders,” Barclay reminded her. “He worries about Mum, who I can tell you is relieved more than you know to have you safely home. She was afraid you’d never come back.”
Sophy needed no reminder of her mother’s fear of Indian attacks during her American stay. Safe in the Derbyshire hills, her mother often overlooked the importance of her mission work.
“Had I foreseen your accident I wouldn’t have invited so many,” Barclay admitted. “It’s a bit of a crowd, I know.”
“We already have a house full of children,” Sophy pointed out. “What made you decide we needed anyone else?”
Apparently seeking an answer that would satisfy her, he settled himself comfortably in the chair and put his feet up on the bed, until a warning glance from her made him remove them.
“It’s your first time home in six months. You’re only here for a few weeks.” He shrugged. “I thought it was time you might wish to become acquainted with some gentlemen.”
“To what purpose? It isn’t as if I intend to remain here. As soon as I am able, I shall be on the next ship back to America.”
“If you stayed we’d get to see you more often,” he said with a resigned look. “But we all understand you love to travel and see the world.”
“Should I not? Harry and Eddie had a chance to go to war, after all. You had your Grand Tour of Europe.”
“The war is over,” Barclay reminded her, his tone so sharp it surprised her, “and don’t tell me it’s still going on in America. Their problems are their own now, Soph, not yours. Charity is the same the world over.”
She tightened her lips, checking her annoyance. “What are you saying, Bark?”
“I’m saying charitable concerns are fine, admirable even,” he conceded, “but you mustn’t overlook family. I know how competitive you are. You’re used to having brothers rather than sisters. Perhaps that’s where the difficulty lies.”
Sophy refrained from asking what difficulty he referred to. Her brothers were all accomplished. Rather than emphasize the delicacy of her gender and class, she had attempted to keep pace with Harry, Eddie, and Barclay, even as a child. He rushed on, no doubt expecting her silence might produce an outburst.
“At any rate you’ve no idea how pleased Mum is to have you home. She’s glad I’ll finally have a chance to introduce you to a few of my acquaintances over the holidays before you rush off again. This time, of course, you might not,” he added awkwardly, “with your recovery in question.”
Sophy disregarded his concern. She would find a way to return to America as soon as was physically possible. “Are you saying you’ve invited them here as potential suitors for me?”
“Where’s the harm? You might find one of them to your liking. Isn’t it worth a try? We miss you, Soph. It’s like old times having you back. And Prindle’s brought his sister Arabella with him.” He winked. “She’s an early present for me. I think you’ll like her. Anyway, do your best to get to know them a bit so you’ll see what I had in mind, and we shall see what happens.”
Chapter Two
BARCLAY’S ADMONITION, combined with the pain in her throbbing ankle, left Sophy unable to sleep. Desperate to believe she would one day walk again as well as she used to, she felt suddenly anxious to be surrounded by her family as if nothing were wrong.
Impulsively, she summoned a pair of servants to bring her downstairs. When they could find no comfortable way to transport her, she demanded they send Barclay back up. Her favorite brother would find a way to allow her to enjoy the conversation.
“Too bad you didn’t arrive sooner,” he puffed, as he gently carried her step by step down the daunting flight of stairs. “Herbert, Sampson, and Humphrey just retired for the night along with Arabella. Mother knows them fairly well, and Harry and Jane and Eddie and Emma were getting better acquainted with them.”
“Just as well,” Sophy murmured, feeling sorry for herself all of a sudden. “I want it to be just our family tonight.”
As Barclay approached the drawing room with her in his arms conversation ceased abruptly. Sophy suspected she had been the subject of debate. Her mother was perched on the sofa, her smile brittle but her face troubled. Seated before the fire with his stump of a leg stretched out before him, a remnant of the Peninsular War, her oldest brother Harry, flanked by his wife Jane, greeted her with his usual solemnity, a seriousness their children Jonathan and Susannah happily had not inherited. Her middle brother Edward and his wife Emma, parents of Teddy and Emily, the younger pair, greeted her with smiles of encouragement.
“What an absolutely appalling return, and after only a few days,” Jane sympathized, shaking her head. “Such a shame to have this happen before the holidays. It will likely ruin your chances of making a suitable match. This would have been an opportune time.”
While Sophy gritted her teeth Emma spoke up quickly. “It’s most unfortunate, but if I know Sophy she’ll make the most of circumstances as she always does. Thank you for being so gracious with Teddy this afternoon,” Emma confided to Sophy. “If not for your kindness and understanding he would have been distraught. He’s upstairs making a posy for you now.”
“Teddy’s such a thoughtful child.” Sophy smiled. “Whatever will he find to make a posy?”
“Bits of greenery from Cook’s quarters, one would imagine.” Emma laughed. “Where else could he find them under so much snow?”
One of the reasons she regretted her fall, Sophy reflected, was that she could no longer skate with the children as she wished but instead would be forced to spend time indoors.
As familiar and comforting as she found her mother’s drawing room, it seemed bare at this time of year without the trimmings of Christmas. Disappointment filled her as she realized she might not be able to help decorate. Her brothers completed the more challenging tasks like hanging the kissing bunch, placing the small presents on it, and arranging the dolls in the manger scene that perched within its boughs. She could hardly do her share if she were hobbling about or, worse, unable to walk at all.
The very idea brought tears to her eyes. While she was happy to be home with all her family assembled under one beloved roof, she had begun to realize this year would be different from the others, for there was less she would be able to do. The thought made her feel like an outsider, a guest who needed to be waited upon hand and foot. It was a thought that was unbearable as her limitations became more real.
“The difficulty with this injury,” Sophy said meekly, conscious of the fact that Harry had suffered far more than she, “is that I have no idea how I shall occupy my time. I can no longer skate or walk in the snow or climb the Pennines as we used to. Truth to tell, it’s among the things I had hoped to do while I am home.”
“Why don’t you knit something for the poor?” Jane suggested. “At least it would occupy your hands.”
“I don’t knit.” Sophy felt inadequate and unprepared suddenly, wishing she’d spent less time at play with her brothers as a child and more in learning the domestic arts.
“Never mind,” Emma consoled her. “I shall teach you.”
“Never worry about Sophy,” their mother finished pleasantly, “for we know that mind of hers is always occupied. It is one of the reasons she is so self-sufficient. Besides, the suitors Barclay has invited for the holidays will keep her occupied.”
Her mother’s words, she discovered, were an early warning as to what she might expect. The next morning she learned precisely what Barclay had in mind. He startled her by arriving in her room soon after she awoke. As soon as she was properly attired, he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the hallway outside her room where he deposited her in a chair against the wall.
