A Regency Yuletide

by Sharon Sobel

  She turned and stared at him directly, waiting for a reply.

  “I have no good excuse, Sophy. It would have been unfair of me to ask you to wait.” He gave a helpless shrug that offered an apology while he stood his ground. “I had already lost one brother to this war. My father was a commander in the Revolution, and I saw how difficult that was on my mother. She did not approve of my father’s decision. He was loyal to the Crown first, as I was.”

  There, he had said it. He’d spoken the truth as he knew it, although he was certain it would not please her.

  “I missed you,” Sophy replied with a catch in her throat, “rather terribly. I wanted to see the world as you did.”

  “You make it sound as if I were traveling for pleasure.” What on earth had she meant by such a remark? He made no attempt to hide his resentment. “That was most certainly not the case. I thought I had made that quite clear.”

  She shook her head, frustration evident in the tightness of her lips. Jeremy suspected she was struggling with tears that were too close to the surface, and she had chosen to hide them with a stubbornness he found most unappealing. He tried to control his impatience with her but failed when her petulance became increasingly annoying.

  “That is not what I meant. Why did you return?” she demanded.

  “I returned because I knew you would be here,” he retorted, finding himself rather breathless. “It was only upon my return to London several months ago that I learned Charles Ferris had wed Isabella. It was then I discovered no one had claimed you.”

  “You would have discovered it if you had tried a bit harder,” she snapped as she returned to the sleigh, laying down her crutches and thrusting aside the greens he had just piled near the spot where her feet would go.

  The woman was a puzzle, he decided as he assisted her into the sleigh in silence. Perhaps she did not know her own heart as well as she thought she did. A glance at her face told him her emotions were too close to the surface for her to carry on a civil conversation. He opted for discretion and remained silent rather than offer conciliatory remarks that might fuel her fire further.

  Jeremy drove them back to the house in stony silence. The fragile joy they had shared while collecting greenery for the holiday had shattered over a matter of words.

  Her anger toward him made him realize his mistake. He believed he’d found the words to touch her heart and change her mind. Now he was forced to admit he’d been wrong. Very wrong.

  Hard as he might try to make her see the value of staying in England, it was a struggle—and he was beginning to think it was a battle as difficult as any he’d fought in Spain.

  THAT AFTERNOON Sophy gave serious thought to Jeremy’s question as to why she had left for America. It was true she had gone for the wrong reasons, but the mission work had been so worthwhile she had never thought of returning to England to stay. Now she was not so sure. It was pointless for her suitors to continue to press the wonders of London upon her, for her time in the wilderness had stolen her desire to see the city again. Nor was it for the wishes of any of her suitors that she would choose to remain in England. She had begun to realize that her mother’s and Barclay’s opinions were the only two that mattered to her, for they most influenced her own. Now she was forced to add Jeremy to that group. It made her feel ill at ease to be at odds with the men and worse when she thought she might fail to please Mama.

  Had she indeed been as self-centered as Jeremy seemed to imply she had? It was obvious he saw her mother’s side more clearly than her own. A lump formed in Sophy’s throat at the thought that she might be disappointing her mother, despite her parental encouragement to follow her heart. Her mother had always taught her to abide by her convictions. Yet the idea of leaving when her mother needed her most made her heart ache.

  Her fear that she was letting down her family was not her only source of remorse. She had treated Jeremy harshly during what should have been a pleasant afternoon selecting holiday greens. He could not possibly know she needed to discuss her dilemma about returning to America with someone but resisted because she doubted his objectivity. Whatever insights others might share, she knew the decision rested squarely in her hands.

  Her worst fears were realized when Barclay and Eddie sought her out the next day. She anticipated grim news from their troubled expressions even before they spoke.

  “Mother’s taken a spill on the stairs,” Barclay said soberly, “and we’ve summoned Doctor Evans. He’s been here three times in a matter of days. Might as well give him a room.”

  Sophy found her mother more jovial than any of her children.

  “We have all inherited bad bones,” she said philosophically. “It appears I have injured my knee. We know none of us will be First Footing this year. Only Barclay or Eddie could, and Eddie is already taken.”

  Sophy ignored the reference to the medieval tradition. Not only was the custom ludicrously old-fashioned, but it was utter nonsense to think the first man to cross the threshold of the home in which a young unmarried woman resided would be her betrothed. As they waited for Doctor Evans to arrive, Fotherington, Prindle, and Hodge volunteered to craft splints for her mother’s knee by using a pair of small wooden planks from the barn.

  “We shall have Riggs clean them,” Prindle prompted.

  “Then we shall tie them about the fracture if there is one with ropes and cloth,” Hodge added.

  Sophy smiled appreciatively at their efforts, thinking if she were on the frontier they would use rawhide if someone broke a leg that was able to be saved. She told her mother of their good intentions while her sisters-in-law advised Maggie on Christmas preparations.

  “I suggested timber and padding if it comes to that,” Sophy said, “but perhaps the hip is not broken after all.”

  “I am glad your unsuitable suitors are making themselves so helpful to me.” Her mother smiled gratefully. “We haven’t enough crutches to go around, I fear.”

  Doctor Evans brought happier news than anticipated, for as with Sophy and Teddy, the Dowager Lady Fairfax had suffered a sprain rather than a break. He examined their mother in the privacy of her room with only Sophy, Teddy, and Emily present. Sophy feared his next words, though his offer was not long in coming. He examined her ankle as thoroughly as before.

  “You must have taken my advice, for I’m pleased to tell you your ankle is much improved,” he said with some surprise. “It’s not completely healed yet, but this is quite encouraging. Your footing is so secure I think you can stop using your crutches now. You just might be able to make that trip after all.”

  Sophy realized she had become far more hesitant about traveling over the last few days.

  “Oh, thank you, Doctor,” her mother spoke up, a resigned smile pasted on her face. “I know how much Sophy wants to return to America. It’s what she’s been waiting to hear, isn’t it, Sophy?”

  “Yes. Thank you.” Sophy managed a smile.

  Her mother embraced the grandchildren who reacted to the news with cautious enthusiasm as she explained to them how Sophy’s commitment to the ministry in America meant that their aunt might be leaving. Sophy was relieved when Doctor Evans motioned her aside, for it prevented her from seeing the children’s reaction.

  “Of course your mother’s heart condition is still a concern, as is her frailty,” the doctor told Sophy quietly. “Those might be factors in your decision to travel in addition to the weakness in your ankle.”

  His unexpected words about her mother’s health hit Sophy with such force she swayed on her feet. This was the first she had heard of a heart condition. Her mother had never mentioned such a thing to her. The doctor continued as he packed his instruments.

  “As I’ve told your brothers, these are critical days in your mother’s life. It would be most unfortunate if you were to be absent during this time. And you’re young enough yet, Miss T
empleton, to travel again after your mother is gone.”

  Still reeling from the news, and too embarrassed to admit no one had confided her mother’s health problems to her, Sophy saw the doctor out. Then she confronted Barclay and Eddie directly, an ache in the pit of her stomach as she confronted them in the entry hall far from their mother’s hearing.

  “Why did you not tell me about Mama’s heart?” she demanded. “This is the first I knew of this.”

  “I knew she’d worry, Eddie, if she found out,” Barclay said.

  “If? Did you mean not to tell me?” She was astounded as they seemed to struggle for words, their awkward silence confirming the worst.

  Eddie hesitated before making a reluctant admission. “It’s not the way we’d have chosen to tell you, but I’m relieved that you finally know the truth. It was difficult keeping it from you.”

  “I wish you had not.” Sophy glared at her brothers in turn. “How could you not share such a thing? When was this discovered?”

  “Eight months ago,” Barclay explained. “She’s had some minor but worrisome episodes.”

  “For which you were not here,” Eddie said in a cutting tone.

  Sophy’s anger softened. Barclay was the only other family member who resided with her the year round. No doubt it had been an excruciatingly difficult time for her entire family. “I’m upset with you for not telling me the truth at once.”

  “We didn’t want to alarm you with the news straightaway upon your return,” Barclay explained, his apologetic tone edged with frustration. “Within a week of your being home, you seemed more concerned with staying in America than with matters here. At the time the diagnosis was made, Mother didn’t want us to summon you home. Doctor Evans couldn’t say with any certainty how much time she has. It might be as much as a year or more, and there’s a good chance she could live much longer than that. Once you’d arrived, she thought it best that we say nothing.”

  Gentle as they were, her brother’s words stung Sophy into silence. To think her mother preferred to suffer in silence rather than tell her the truth humbled and humiliated her. No one other than Mama would do such a thing. It was a display of genuine love only a parent could show, and one that left her devastated.

  Chapter Six

  HER MOTHER’S HEALTH concerns were utmost in Sophy’s mind when she retired to bed early that night, too despondent to engage in the festivities downstairs. While she strongly doubted she would spend her life in America, perhaps she might return if only for a few months, just until a replacement could be found for her. She knew her unmarried state was among her mother’s greatest concerns. Perhaps she could convince Jeremy to return with her.

  He might not be the most suitable of chaperones, she conceded, but in her confusion she was desperate to find a solution. She debated raising the subject the following day when she had a chance to be alone with him at the breakfast table.

  “Since no one has arrived yet but you and me,” Jeremy said in a confidential tone, “I want to show you what I found in my Bible. Remember when we exchanged written goals? We were about ten. We wrote what we expected to be doing twenty-five years in the future.” He gave her a reminiscent smile. “When we’re old, we said then. We’re almost those ages now. It doesn’t feel quite so old today, does it?”

  “We were playing school,” Sophy recalled, smiling fondly at the reminiscence.

  “I thought us rather old for it at the time. Even then you wanted to teach, though your mother disliked the idea.” Jeremy grinned. “Some things never change. This was the assignment you gave us. I kept it.”

  She watched, fascinated. The years fell away as he handed her a yellowed paper, looking at her meaningfully.

  “You wrote that you wanted to travel to faraway places and have your own flock,” he reminded her with a chuckle. “At the time, you were referring to sheep. You achieved part of your goal.”

  “You, of course, wanted to be a war hero like your father.” Sophy smiled at the memory, adding with happy surprise, “You still have your childhood Bible?”

  She realized with a guilty flush that she was not sure where hers was. She decided it must be upstairs in her bedroom. The Bible she carried with her now was one the Mission Society had issued her.

  “Took it to war with me.” Jeremy shrugged. “Even if I hadn’t, it didn’t need to be there in physical form, Sophy. We carry our lives with us, all we’ve learned and love.”

  She felt her heart stir as it had not in years.

  “I never wanted you to go to war,” she admitted. “We never even had a proper farewell.”

  “I wanted to be a soldier like my father,” he conceded. “Of course Henry died when we were children, leaving Robert and me. And then we lost Robert in battle.” Jeremy turned to her with a tentative smile. “But there is no running anymore for you, my dear. You always wished you could see into the future to know what awaited us. Do you think you can see it now?”

  “I wish I could,” she said with a catch in her voice. Her vision seemed cloudier than ever.

  “Where’s that flock of yours?” he teased gently. “You were Susannah’s age when you wrote this. Maybe it’s time to consider new goals. You never knew it was my secret wish to have a family like yours. Since I don’t, I might have to join yours. You were part of that dream of the future for me. Now that I’ve returned from war, I don’t ever want to leave England again. Nor do I want to leave you.”

  Sophy caught her breath as she absorbed Jeremy’s statement. That he did not wish to leave England concerned her. The latter part, about not wanting to leave her, thrilled her. If the second part were true, she told herself fervently, surely it must triumph over the first.

  Her worries vanished and her heart fluttered as Jeremy reached for her hand, covering her trembling fingers with his strong ones. Self-conscious suddenly, she turned away to avoid looking in his eyes. There was so much she wanted to say, but she could not be certain he was ready to hear them given his feelings about being home. Her fear of speaking and losing the moment turned her shy.

  Before she could speak, the warning thud of footsteps beyond the breakfast room announced the presence of another. Sophy saw Jeremy’s face darken, and he drew his hand away abruptly. Sophy turned and saw Humphrey Fotherington had joined them.

  “Good morning, Miss Templeton,” he greeted her jovially. “I was considering how I might spend my day. I’ve decided I’d like to call at the nearest village to make some purchases for Christmas. I hoped you might accompany me. It would allow you to exercise your ankle while doing some shopping of your own.”

  “Actually,” Jeremy cut in pleasantly, “Miss Templeton and I have just made plans to go walking this afternoon.”

  He sipped his coffee, giving Fotherington a moment to react.

  Fotherington’s face fell. “How disappointing, though not for you, St. Laurent. Are you certain, Miss Templeton, you are up to that much exercise?”

  “Thank you for your consideration,” Sophy said sweetly. “I intend to take the utmost care with the ankle. I shall see you this afternoon, Captain St. Laurent.”

  She let herself be guided by the belief that his desire to be with her was stronger than his desire to remain in England as they walked to the pond that afternoon. Jeremy had suggested the path because the walk was long enough to test her ankle without straining it. She hoped he had also suggested the path because it would allow them to talk privately.

  “Are you finding the steps difficult?” he asked with concern. “Let me offer you my arm, Sophy.”

  She accepted his offer happily, linking her arm through his as they strolled, using one crutch for the other arm to allow her to extend the walk a bit longer.

  “I was about to tell you at breakfast,” he continued, “how happy I am the war is over. I hope you and I might resume that part of the past before we
parted, when we were truly content with ourselves and each other, and pursue it into the future. Tell me, Miss Templeton,” he inquired teasingly, “do you think it possible? And do you still wish to have your own flock one day? This time, of course, I’m not talking about sheep.”

  The warmth of his companionship coursed through Sophy. She could feel it not only in his touch but in his words.

  “Yes, one day,” she ventured, bold yet shy. “For now I have nieces and nephews that I love. But my ankle is healing, and America is also in my future. Would you consider coming with me?”

  The hesitation in his voice alarmed her as he said, “The past three years have given me excitement enough for a very long time. I might travel in the future. At present, however, I look forward to the peace and certainty of the familiar. I find that here.”

  Jeremy must have seen the sorrow in her face, for he reached for her hand at once. Sophy found herself wishing he were not quite so honest until she heard the sincerity in his voice as he added, “At the moment I would not be sorry to never leave England again, but even should I wish to do so, I couldn’t. My father’s health is questionable. He hangs on, but I could not think to abandon him in his final years.”

  Sophy felt the heat rise in her neck at his heartfelt explanation. Each of his words increased her sense of guilt, reminding her of her mother’s tenuous health and the effect her departure might have upon her.

  “For diplomacy’s sake, can we not negotiate a treaty?” she asked, appealing to his military days for help.

  “I know it is difficult for you to understand,” he said softly, the tenderness in his voice twisting her heart, “but I have just returned from fighting a war—a horribly cruel and agonizingly long war—and I am relieved to be among civilized society again. Here there is no killing or maiming, no innocent citizens dying at the hands of soldiers drunk with victory and vengeance. Perhaps one day I will be ready to leave England again, but not now. I beg you to accept my life as it is.”