A Regency Yuletide

by Sharon Sobel

  “You might have,” Jeremy conceded, “and it’s fortunate you didn’t even if you can’t see it. I was acquainted with both and considered them a perfect match.”

  “Clearly they were not,” Sophy continued recklessly. “After you and I argued and you went to war, Charles left Isabella to return to me. We became better acquainted in your absence.”

  If Jeremy was troubled by her words, he did not show it. His chin set, he did not move a muscle as he sat listening. “And is there is a reason you and he never married? Pray, tell me.”

  Sophy swallowed. She remained silent, having backed herself into a corner. She had realized Charles was a rotter when he left her for another. Soon afterward she learned Jeremy had married a Spanish girl, and her plans to go to America began to develop.

  “If you were as well acquainted with Charles as you believe, you would know he takes advantage of women. Isabella is not the only one, but she plays her role perfectly. That’s why he married her. They were meant for each other.”

  Sophy started, unable to hide her shock. She assumed Charles would marry eventually, but she had no idea he had returned to Isabella. She felt her haughtiness falling away.

  Jeremy sounded as if he struggled to keep the spite from his tone. “So you did not know.”

  “I thought you and Charles were friends,” she confessed. “I never understood why you introduced him to such a mean woman.”

  “Charles was just as mean. His courtship of you was intended to make Isabella jealous.” He shrugged. “There’s little to envy in her, believe me. She is beautiful but heartless. He had plenty of women besides her. Still does. Do you think she is as happy as you? She isn’t. I receive news from London. You do not, having been in America, where you are obviously happier without anyone.”

  Sophy was shocked into silence, absorbing his words as much as their harsh tone. She was surprised to see bitterness tighten his features as his posture tensed.

  “Charles and I were acquaintances, never friends. Rivals, in fact, when it came to you. Perhaps you never knew.” Jeremy rose from his chair, giving her a look of disdain. “You’ve misinterpreted several things, Sophy. It was because I cared that I chose to separate you from Charles. I never stopped caring.”

  Sophy was not prepared to hear the words.

  Setting down his half-finished brandy, Jeremy turned and headed for the door, saying, “I think it best that we not continue this conversation, at least not at present. Since you are still fairly immobile and unable to depart under your own power, I shall do so and allow you to return to your reading. I will see you tomorrow.”

  Left alone with Sylvan, still snoring in his bookcase shelf, Sophy was uncertain what to do next. Her thoughts swirled with confusion from the new revelations. Concentrating on a book was impossible. Her night ruined by the encounter, she might as well retire to bed and request that a tray be brought to her room. After the unpleasant encounter that had just ended, she certainly had no intention of dining with their guests this evening.

  She would use Barclay’s excuse and claim weariness. Having decided the matter, her annoyance with Jeremy lingered. She refused to believe the Earl of Dunstreet was as shallow as he claimed. Had Jeremy not interfered, she might still be in England, married to Charles Ferris with children of her own.

  She had to concede that was not what she’d wanted, certainly not with Charles. Yet the thought of a home with children and dogs running across the lawn was appealing. The concept was new to her, and it startled and confused her.

  As she pulled herself back to the present, ready to retire, she realized she had no way to get upstairs without assistance. She disliked being left alone with her past. She much preferred being first to leave an unpleasant conversation.

  There would be no more relying on others, she vowed, or waiting for servants. She would show them she didn’t need either Barclay or Jeremy or even the servants. First thing tomorrow she would find a pair of crutches to give her more mobility.

  The next day she located her mother’s old pair. While the ankle still pained her enough that she wasn’t tempted to try putting weight on her foot just yet, the crutches allowed her a degree of independence. She had managed to maneuver the stairs with them, slowly but carefully, just as Thomas Riggs called. He carried a child-sized pair of crutches.

  “I heard about the lad. Shame, that.” The tenant farmer shook his head sympathetically as he addressed Sophy and her mother. “Poor li’l tyke. Hope to have one of me own just like him one day soon.”

  He winked at them, his cheeks flushed pink from the cold, as a broad toothless smile spread across his face.

  “Mrs. Riggs must be nearing that time.” Mrs. Templeton returned his smile. “How proud and excited you must be, Thomas.”

  “Real proud, ma’am. Won’t be long now. Maybe we’ll have a Christmas baby.”

  “Wouldn’t that be lovely.” Sophy’s mother looked up as Eddie came downstairs slowly, Teddy in his arms. “Teddy dear, look what Mr. Riggs brought for you.”

  The boy’s face brightened at once. “Aunt Sophy and I will be twins!”

  By the time the laughter subsided, Barclay approached, amused to see both his sister and his nephew on matching crutches.

  “Soph, I was thinking,” Barclay announced. “Bath isn’t known only for its sedan chairs. If I’d thought sooner I’d have gotten you one of John Dawson’s Bath chairs. It has two large wheels in back and a smaller one in front, with a handle for steering. It even has footrests and a reclining back if you tire of riding.”

  “That’s kind of you, Bark,” she said gratefully, “but by the time it arrives I’ll be back on my feet. With crutches, I needn’t rely on anyone. Besides, this way Teddy and I match.”

  “Your injury might have your suitors competing among themselves,” Barclay said when they were alone. “I’ll bet they’ll trip over each other trying to assist you with those crutches.”

  She gave him a secretive smile, pleased to think how annoyed Jeremy would be if she gave Humphrey the nod. When she encountered her admirers in the drawing room later that morning, she was less inclined to dismiss them now that they might prove useful. She permitted them to consume the remainder of her morning before she invited them to join her outdoors to watch the children play in the snow.

  While each had been quite agreeable to slipping his arm about her waist to help her adjust to using crutches, they all declined to step outside, just as she expected. She set off by herself, enjoying the freedom her crutches afforded her. She was delighted to see Barclay heading toward her, until she saw he was with Jeremy who paused to watch the fun the children were having.

  “Any closer to making a decision, Soph?” Barclay asked her privately.

  “You mean regarding the unsuitable suitors?” She smiled uneasily, reluctant to resume the issue of her leaving. “It can’t be about America. You know I plan to return when I’m well.”

  Barclay hesitated. “Mum isn’t getting any younger, you know. I’m not sure you know how much it means to her to have you home again. It would break her heart if you left.”

  Sophy hesitated before replying, trying to ignore the nagging guilt that tugged at her heart. She had promised the ministry that she would return. While she did not take her obligations lightly, her sense of responsibility to her family weighed heavily upon her conscience. “I’ve already written the Mission Society to see if they have a suitable chaperone for me,” she said in dismay. “That should put Mother’s mind at ease. She doesn’t want me to travel without one.”

  “Mum doesn’t want you to travel at all, but you must suit yourself. You’ve scared the other men off, I see,” Barclay observed dryly. “You spend so much time with the children the adults are beginning to treat you like one. Apparently Jeremy is braver than the rest.”

  Her spirits fell somewhat when Barclay walke
d on and Jeremy stepped up beside her, watching the children at play.

  “I see Jonathan’s made a snow fort,” Jeremy said casually. “It’s almost as impressive as some I saw in Spain, except they weren’t built of snow.”

  “Two weeks ago I barely knew my nieces and nephews.” Sophy sighed wistfully. “Now I can’t imagine life without them once they go home.”

  “Perhaps they’ll stay if you will. I suspect they’re more entertaining than your suitors,” Jeremy added slyly. “I overheard you telling Barclay they’re all too much like him. Is that why you’ve done so well on crutches, so you can avoid them?”

  Sophy smiled. She knew her behavior warranted teasing, and she was grateful he had smoothed the rough waters between them so graciously.

  “I thought it rather decent of Riggs to make those pint-sized crutches for Teddy,” Jeremy continued. “Why don’t we call at the cottage? We could bring the couple something from the kitchen as thanks. And no more sedan chair. This time we’ll go by sleigh so you can travel as you should.”

  “Are you certain you wouldn’t rather have Miss Prindle accompany you?” she challenged.

  “Quite certain,” he said in a tone that left no doubt in her mind.

  Within minutes Jeremy had the sleigh brought round and had harnessed the horses. He eased Sophy into the sleigh by offering a supportive hand while holding her crutches.

  “It must feel good to be home again,” she said, as they rode. The gleaming white snow crunched beneath the sleigh’s runners and blew a fine spray past them, and it was so bright it was almost blinding. “I understand your cavalry unit distinguished itself at Villagarcia, and you as well.”

  “Is that what they say? It was certainly a victory for our side,” Jeremy conceded, “and better than Ciudad Rodrigo and Badajoz where misconduct overshadowed bravery. But anywhere there is death isn’t a place where one wants to be distinguished as much as absent. By God’s grace I was spared. There were others, too many, who weren’t so fortunate. I was indeed happy to return to my family.”

  Jeremy focused his gaze on the path ahead, and Sophy let his memories recede in silence. As they passed a barn alongside the road, happier memories filtered back to her.

  “Barclay suggested I ask your opinion about my ankle. He said you knew a bit about medicine, having delivered babies while abroad.”

  Although he continued to stare straight ahead, she saw his eyes cloud over briefly. “I delivered one. I happened to be in the right place at the right time.”

  “Remember the baby lambs in springtime? One year when we were little, you carried out the first born.” She smiled at the memory. “You stood in the doorway of the barn holding the sweetest, tiniest lamb. As I recall, you helped deliver it.”

  “I’d no idea it would be such good practice.” A grin spread across his face as the childhood memory displaced more recent ones. He gave her a teasing glance. “As I recall, you said you were going to have a whole flock of lambs when you grew up. Where are they?”

  “I suppose my flock are the Indians in the New World,” she said. “The settlers refer to them as heathens, but I find them enchanting. I like to watch the mothers carry their babies on their backs.”

  There was nothing savage about it, she reflected. Yet she hadn’t been able to attract a very large flock of followers in America, among either the settlers or the Indians.

  They were pleased to find Thomas Riggs chopping wood outside his cottage. Since Dolly was preparing their noonday dinner, Sophy expressed hesitation about lingering, but the mistress of the house insisted they remain for a warm drink. As she readied the mugs they delivered the pheasant they had brought from the larder at the main house as thanks for the child-sized crutches Thomas had made.

  “Our own wee one’s due any day now.” Dolly’s face beamed over the bulge beneath her skirts, her cheeks pink from the heat of the stove. “Just in time for Christmas.”

  “What better present could we have?” her husband added with an affectionate laugh. “We’ve waited a long time for this child.”

  As Sophy sat beside Jeremy and enjoyed hot cider with the couple, she felt herself relax in the cozy comfort of the cottage. Sophy watched Dolly’s pleasing awkwardness as she moved about, collecting cheese, bread, and apples as offerings of their hospitality. Despite the extra weight she carried Dolly did not seem the least encumbered. For the first time Sophy found herself wondering what it must feel like to be with child.

  She sensed it was the faith and joy the couple exuded rather than the spiced cider or the fire in the hearth that filled their surroundings with bliss. She felt so warmed by their company that she felt a stab of disappointment when it was time to leave.

  “I’m glad we decided to reacquaint you with things you once enjoyed, like riding in the snow in a sleigh,” Jeremy said on their ride home. “The only activities you can’t do yet are going for country rambles or having a good skate. At any rate, sleigh rides will help you pass the time until you’re well enough to skate again. That might be sooner than you think.”

  Sophy settled back contentedly with the rug wrapped about her, a warmth coursing through her that defied the freezing temperatures. Apparently, Jeremy understood how much it mattered to her to walk again so she might return to America and fulfill her destiny as a teacher. If only her family could see it.

  Upon her return she found Barclay waiting impatiently not for her but for the sleigh. Within minutes he had set off in the company of Arabella and his gentlemen friends. When the party returned that night she was not surprised to see Herbert Prindle and Sampson Hodge rather inebriated.

  “In their cups.” Jeremy shook his head with disdain. “Foxed. Had a bit more brandy than is good for them. Not used to country ways, apparently. They’ve found nothing better to do than drink.”

  Sophy hoped it was a sign the men were giving up, though she suspected Humphrey Fotherington would persist in his courtship. She found the following evening more to her liking, when a round of teasing regarding newly purchased Christmas presents lifted the children’s spirits.

  Moods brightened and hearts lightened as the Christmas holidays moved a day closer. Maggie, the Scottish cook who had presided over Deervale Hall’s kitchen for as long as Sophy could remember, insisted on keeping everyone away despite the tempting scents permeating each room that seemed to come from the pantry.

  The infectious mood began with Teddy and Emily and spread to their older cousins. Susannah and Jonathan could not disguise their excitement, and even their stern parents seemed to relax at the thought of the merriment in store this year.

  “Sophy was absent last year at this time,” Harry explained to Herbert, Sampson, and Humphrey Fotherington.

  “And we’re happy she is with us this year, even if her spirits are a bit downtrodden from her fall,” Jane said glibly.

  Even her sister-in-law’s outspokenness did not dim Sophy’s spirits. True, it was the first time they had all been together in nearly two years, she reflected, but there was something special about this year. It was especially noticeable one evening after the ladies had retired to the drawing room for needlework and gossip and then returned to the gentlemen who were enjoying their port. As they gathered around the fire, she had never seen her family so happy, despite their assorted injuries.

  Reminiscing about a masquerade he’d attended at Covent Garden years earlier, even Harry was in a jovial mood, appearing to forget his devastating leg injury as he engaged in conversation with Humphrey Fotherington. Arabella Prindle attempted, without much success, to play a piece on the piano she remembered from a London soiree, with Barclay leaning over her shoulder playfully. Eddie and Emma regaled Herbert Prindle and Sampson Hodge with memories of a summer visit to the Royal Academy with the children in tow.

  Sophy looked around for Jeremy, a feeling of contentment filling her as she spied him c
hatting with her mother, who smiled repeatedly. She wondered if they were remembering the halcyon days of childhood. How remarkable, she mused, that they had grown close in their youth when they met in London and discovered they lived in neighboring counties. When her mother’s face grew serious, Sophy suspected Jeremy was updating her on his father’s health. Concern welled within her as she hoped Jeremy’s aging father had not suffered any setback.

  Later that evening, as Humphrey Fotherington’s attentions became a bit too intense, Sophy managed to excuse herself. She noticed Jeremy had disappeared. Perhaps he’d decided to retire early. She chose to escape to the library for peace and quiet.

  She opened the closed door and slipped inside, startled to see Jeremy St. Laurent had beaten her there. He smiled and lifted his brandy in welcome.

  “Join me, won’t you?” he invited. “Please.”

  Sophy hesitated. “I’ve no wish to disturb you.”

  “I admit the turn of the doorknob disappointed me, but only until I saw your mischievous smile behind it. I suspected you might require a respite and seek refuge here.” Leaning forward, Jeremy glanced past her. “I see Sylvan behind you. Bring him in as well.” He paused a moment, then asked, “Are you disappointed to be in the company of another?”

  “I confess I was surprised to find you here.” She closed the door quietly behind Sylvan. “But I thank you for sharing your privacy.”

  She was more surprised to see a grin crease his thoughtful features, and he said softly, “That’s what I like about you, Sophy. Your honesty outshines your tact. Why don’t you sit for a spell before facing them again, if you feel obligated to do so at all? I’ve always found this library intriguing. It has much more than mere military tomes. You must feel at ease here, surrounded by books and with your dog, though perhaps less so with me here.”

  She felt the curiosity in his brown eyes penetrate her soul. “At least you understand and respect my wishes,” she said, seating herself. “Even about my desire to return to America. For that, I thank you.”