Connie's young companion finished his tale and let out a sigh. “Now I don't know what to do. I have no plan, but I can't go back either.”
“Why not?”
“Well,” Frederick thought about it, his brow creasing with the problem. “My father would think me even more of a child and probably lock me in my room or something. I would never escape from this.”
The two fell silent as they pondered this problem. Finally, Connie spoke.
“Wouldn't your father think you more of a child if he had to come find you because you'd gotten yourself into some scrape you couldn't climb out of?”
“What do you mean?” The boy looked puzzled.
“Well, it seems to me that the most grown-up thing you could do would be to go back home and own up to your mistake. And to speak like a man to your father about his treatment of you.”
Frederick shook his head vigorously. “I don't know that I could do that. You don't know my father.”
“Maybe he would surprise you. Maybe he would see that you realized you'd done wrong and were ready to take responsibility for it instead of pouting and yelling or running away.” Connie expressed this simply, without seeming to accuse the young man of anything.
Frederick carefully considered these words. Connie could guess what the lad was thinking: this was a way for him to retreat back home without losing face in front of his father.
Frederick gave a quick nod of decision. “I think you might be right.”
“Well, then, shall we test this new plan?” Connie asked. Frederick smiled and turned resolutely back toward Milverton.
“Would you like to ride my horse here? He needs a gallop and I have more of a mind for walking this morning.” Connie made no mention that he had seen Freddy limping along the road. One admission of weakness was about all a boy could be expected to stand in one morning.
The boy willingly accepted this proposal and Connie helped him mount.
“Let him run for awhile, young Frederick!” Connie encouraged. The young man needed no other orders.
As the boy galloped down the road back toward Milverton, Connie smiled to himself and continued his slow ramble. The sun was not yet high in the sky and already he had rescued a runaway boy. What more might this day hold?
Chapter IX
When she saw her brother, a complicated mass of emotions welled up within Sophy. Relief was primary. Freddy was clearly fine in body. He was smiling and sitting astride a horse. But the relief was followed by worry and confusion tinged with quite a bit of anger. Freddy was headed back toward the Milverton, not away from it as she had feared. But where had he acquired a horse? All of theirs had still been stabled when they’d checked the barn earlier. Had he stolen it? Could Freddy be that dense? Or that criminal? Here he was galloping around without any cares when they had all been worried out of their minds about him.
These emotions played across Sophy’s face as Freddy came galloping toward her and the small group of townspeople that stood behind her. Sophy could hear the other members of the group muttering together as the young man approached. They were clearly as curious as she was about the sight before them.
At least he has the grace to look like he knows he’s done something wrong, Sophy thought as she observed the fearful look that crossed Freddy’s face when he spotted her. He’d tempered the exuberance of his gallop when he’d seen the group of townspeople standing in the roadway. As well he should, Sophy thought sternly. The boy had many apologies to make. Though she was relieved that he was safe, Sophy was still angry at him for the panic he’d caused the entire village. She was sure her brother could see her anger in her face.
Freddy stopped the horse a few feet away from where his sister was waiting. He took a deep breath, as if deciding whether to run away or face it like a man.
“Sophy –“ He was hardly able to get her name out before she launched into him. Sophy did not let the fact that he still towered over her on the horse stop her from telling her brother exactly what she thought of him and his antics. As she continued, she became more and more animated, speaking quickly as she warmed to her subject.
“Frederick Wentworth! What in heaven and on earth do you think you are playing at? Running off at all hours of the night or morning or whenever you left, without a word to anyone. The whole town has been in an uproar all morning because of your antics. We’ve walked half of Christendom in all directions, fearing that something horrible had happened to you. Afraid that around every corner we would see your body sprawled out somewhere, robbed or murdered or left for dead. And God knows where you’ve stolen that horse from –“
Freddy climbed down from the horse as Sophy delivered her animated harangue. Berating him for the trouble he’d caused helped relive the worry she’d built up. He interrupted her tirade, which had grown in intensity with every word, just as his sister was accusing him of stealing a horse. Instead of saying a word, Freddy hugged her.
Sophy spluttered to a halt, shocked by her brother’s unexpected embrace. Freddy squeezed her tightly and begin his apology.
“Oh, Soph. I’m so sorry. I know now that I was wrong to run away. But I was so upset at Papa last night…” Freddy released his sister and held her at arm’s length. Tears of relief stood in her eyes. She had been fearing the worst and had never expected to hear her brother apologize. After a significant pause in which it seemed Freddy didn't know what to say, he repeated, “I’m sorry.” Then he turned to the small group of townspeople behind his sister and offered them an apology, as well.
They smiled knowingly at him and readily accepted his apology. Freddy was one of Milverton’s favorite sons and they’d all seen him through much worse than this.
Sophy stood quiet and stunned by her brother’s easy and sincere apology. She wondered what on earth had happened to him this morning. This was her brother in form, but something in his attitude seemed to have changed. Or was it only a put on to try and escape the trouble he was in?
She put these thoughts aside for a moment while she also thanked the townspeople and sent them on their way back to the town, requesting that someone hurry to find her father. They shuffled off, talking to each other about the reunion and apology they had witnessed. Sophy watched them go, silently thanking them and yet again in her life sending up blessings for the wonderful people of their town who always cared for them as their own.
When they had turned a corner out of sight, Sophy closed her eyes and took a deep breath, steeling herself to deal with her willful brother and the as yet unanswered questions of where he had been and what he was doing with a horse.
“Frederick Wentworth, you cannot get off that easily ---” Sophy turned to address her brother. And promptly forgot what she had been about to say.
Standing where her brother had formerly been was the most handsome man she had ever seen. And he seemed to be smiling broadly at her. Sophy blinked a few times, trying to clear her mind and resolve the picture in front of her. This was certainly not her brother.
The first thing Sophy noticed of him was his height. He stood on a level with his horse. At least Sophy assumed that it was his horse. The man wore no hat and so she observed that he had dark brown hair tied back into a queue at his neck. It was a style not quite fashionable anymore, but it became him well. He had a square jaw and regular features. But his smile… Sophy caught her breath, dazzled and startled by its mischief and hints of intimacy, as if they were sharing a joke. She desperately wanted to know what that joke was, to share it with him. She couldn’t help but answer him with a smile of her own.
Even as Sophy grinned at him, she noticed the starched collar of his shirt and the well-fitting blue naval coat bedecked with gold buttons that caught the late-morning sunlight. The coat covered a broad shoulders and a chest that didn’t narrow much as it reached his hips. His legs were solid underneath the white cloth of his uniform breeches. He would have been a frightening bulk of a man, actually, if it had not been for that smile that currently held her in thrall
.
It felt like hours that she’d stood there and looked him over. A blush crept slowly over her neck and face as she realized how boldly she was staring. It was unlike Sophy to act with so little thought for decency. In the excitement of the morning so far, a dashing naval officer who seemed to have befriended her brother and somehow convinced him to come home, this had certainly not been anywhere near the realm of possibilities. She could not stop smiling. And she still had not found any words to say. Luckily, her brother stepped in.
“Sophy, this is my new friend, Captain Conrad Croft of His Majesty’s Royal Navy.”
“Pleased to meet you,” the officer spoke in a rich baritone full of good humor that only extended the goodwill of his smile.
“Captain, this is my older sister Miss Sophia Wentworth.”
* * *
Sophia, Frederick called her. A regal name. Connie wanted to roll it around on his tongue like a delicious sweet. Sophia. Sophia. He repeated her name in his head. The name, he thought, meant wisdom. As this young scamp’s older sister, she probably had to be the wise one in the family. If young Frederick knew what was good for him, he’d listen to her.
She was certainly a commanding woman. Connie had come upon the scene right as Miss Wentworth had begun her animated tirade. Connie had sped up at the sight of her, eager to find out who she was and why she was so delightfully haranguing the young man.
As Connie approached, he closely observed her. Miss Wentworth was a woman of average height, but she had had no qualms about addressing her brother while he was still mounted on the horse and at least four feet taller than herself. She’d addressed him as if she’d been looking down at him. Connie had smiled at the sight. And the young man had clearly felt her command. Connie had noticed Frederick’s reaction only briefly, however. His attention had been riveted by the woman just introduced to him as Miss Sophia Wentworth.
It was more than her manner of command that had made Connie’s heart begin to beat fast and his feet to speed toward her. As this woman had berated her wayward brother, Miss Wentworth's bright, dark eyes had flashed, her whole face and body had been animated. Arms used to emphasize her point also shifted her simple but well-cut dress to highlight the soft curves of her body. The combination of her animation, easy command, and curves had utterly enthralled him. He could not take his eyes off of her. And he couldn’t stop smiling.
And so Connie had moved closer to the scene. And he’d been terribly amused when she’d wheeled on her brother and found him instead. In the short pause before Frederick had introduced her, the woman had quite frankly looked him over from top to toe. There was nothing shy about her assessment. Connie was used to bold women; it was an inevitable fact of naval life. For any woman to fit into the man’s world, she had to have some boldness about her. But here was boldness tempered with a knowledge of manners. He could see this from the soft blush that crept up her neck and cheeks when she realized she’d been so clearly staring at him. The blush intrigued him even more than the boldness and he continued to smile at her.
“This is my older sister Miss Sophia Wentworth,” Frederick had said. Connie would never forget that name. He bowed his head in greeting, not taking his eyes off her face. She wasn’t an overwhelming beauty – though Connie wasn’t actually sure he knew what a woman like that would look like. But her features were pleasingly regular. And those eyes. They were lit by something within that made her irresistible to a man like him. It was strength and softness together. It was depth. Like his first love, the ocean, he had seen something beneath her calm surface. And he bemusedly wondered what lengths he would go to see it again. His sea voyages were all quests like that – days, weeks in pursuit of something he had seen only in the distance. And the promise of a worthy prize at the end.
“Hello, Miss Wentworth,” Connie said.
“Pleased to meet you, captain.” Sophy gave a small, informal curtsey. She moved with an easy grace, as if she was comfortably in command of all around her. She smiled at him and he had another glimpse of that prize.
“Sophia. That means ‘wisdom,’ does it not?”
“Yes, it does,” Miss Wentworth nodded, amused and puzzled at the direction of his conversation.
Connie turned to Frederick. “I would call it wisdom then, young man, after seeing the dressing-down your sister delivered, even with you loftily perched on my horse, to refrain from emphasizing the word ‘older’ when referencing your lovely – and quite young – sister. I have a feeling the small jibe might be more trouble than it is worth.” Connie looked toward Sophy with mischief in his eyes. He was pleased – though, he had to admit, not entirely surprised – to see answering mischief in hers and a smile playing around the corners of her lips.
Somehow he had known – or had hoped – that she would be quick to humor. It was one more glimpse of a quarry he was finding to be a more and more irresistible each moment. Perhaps this trip home would hold more than the warmth of his own family. If she was the doctor’s daughter, he would surely be spending time in her company. He found this prospect delightful and wondered what other things he would discover about her during his stay.
“So this would be your horse that my brother has absconded with, captain?” Sophy asked. Connie nodded. “I hope my brother has thanked you.”
“No need! When I came across him, I had dismounted anyway. He took the beast on a gallop she badly wanted. I preferred to walk. It is a beautiful morning, though the sun is growing a little hot now, I think.” Connie felt his own uncovered brow growing damp with perspiration. In his continued observation of Miss Wentworth, he had also noticed that damp strands of her hair were clinging to her temples. This drew his attention for the first time to the fact that her hair was loose down her back in soft brown waves. For the first time, it registered in Connie's mind how hastily she had clearly dressed. With the information about the other search parties, and the angry but fearful lecture she had read him before he'd even dismounted, Connie could now see the level of distress young Frederick had clearly caused. Miss Wentworth didn't even have a bonnet to cover her fair skin.
“It seems that your young brother has caused some trouble this morning, Miss Wentworth.” Sophy rolled her eyes and sighed. Connie felt oddly happy that she already felt such intimacy was acceptable in his company. “I suggest that we allay any further distress by heading back to Milverton.”
“That sounds like a fine plan, captain. My father will be expecting news,” she paused, “and an apology.” Miss Wentworth looked directly at Frederick, clearly giving the boy his orders. With Connie's help, he mounted the horse again and set off down the road. His subdued pace – much different to the exuberant gallop of a few moments ago – bespoke his reluctance to face the apologies he knew awaited him in town. Connie started off after him.
Now that she was no longer rushing and worried about her brother, Miss Wentworth seemed to relax into her surroundings. Connie observed her as closely as he could while they walked. She moved with a confident but leisurely stride. And unlike other women he had known, she seemed not to feel the pressure to talk. For a few strides, she simply closed her eyes and breathed deeply. When she exhaled, she began to speak.
“Captain Conrad Croft. And heading into Milverton,” Miss Wentworth mused. “You wouldn't happen to be one of the sons of our dear and beloved Reverend Croft, would you?”
“The prodigal returns!” Connie exclaimed, laughing as Miss Wentworth's own giggle bubbled up. “Not quite prodigal, perhaps. I don't believe I've been wicked enough to deserve that label, though I do believe that my dear mother would be willing to slay a fatted calf when I appear on her doorstep.”
“She has not made mention of your return,” Miss Wentworth's brow furrowed, clearly trying to recall something. “Surely she would have mentioned such a momentous event.”
“Miss Wentworth, I must confess a secret to you.” He leaned conspiratorially toward her. “She does not know.”
“A surprise! How wonderful! She will be
overwhelmed in quite the best way.”
“Indeed!” Connie had to agree with this. His mother had mentioned Miss Wentworth in her letters over the years, but he now realized that the young woman must be on even more intimate terms than he knew. “Shall we place a wager on her reaction when she espies her third child walking up the lane?”
“I can already envision the scene. She will quite forget that she is a pillar of our society and run in a most unladylike way to your arms.”
“Just so,” Connie laughed. It was the same picture he had seen in his mind. His mother had always been quite improperly effusive with her children. But they loved her for it. Indeed, the whole of Milverton loved her for it. Mrs. Maria Croft tried her best to maintain “society” manners, but her good nature always got the better of her. She had always been a happy woman with the great fortune to be able to influence the mood around her. The Reverend sometimes referred to her as his “rainbow” – God's happy promise to man after whatever storm he had endured.
Connie had witnessed this love between his parents as he grew up. As a youth, he'd been greatly embarrassed by it. But now he recognized it as the most precious of unions. Connie himself had had a few marriage opportunities over the years. He was, after all, an eligible officer with a promising career ahead of him. But somehow none of those prospects had seemed right. He couldn't quite describe the feeling even to himself. They'd all been nice girls, but he'd been unable to picture the easy and enduring love like that of his parents. In short, he couldn't ever see himself as entirely comfortable with any of those women.
And yet here was a woman walking beside him completely at ease. They had already shared some laughter. And she knew his family. His long experience at sea told him this was a wind he wanted to sail for as long as it would hold him.
“So you know my family, let me see if I can recall yours from so many years ago. Doctor Wentworth's oldest, yes?” Connie questioned Miss Wentworth.
My Dear Sophy Page 6
