An Unexpected Love

by Tracie Peterson

  Without further ado, her father launched into one of his speeches bewailing the plight of the needy. Bored, Sophie leaned back in her chair and surveyed the room while her father thanked those in attendance for their dedication to the troubles of the less fortunate. Sophie finally spotted Amanda and Blake sitting at a table with Daniel and Fanny. Had Dr. Carstead invited Daniel to join them? Poor Fanny looked as though she’d like to bolt and run. When she thought the speech was complete, her fa- ther began to unveil his plan for expansion of the Home for the Friendless.

  No one would be the wiser if she and Wesley were to sneak out for a carriage ride. And this would be the perfect time to escape. “I was thinking that we might slip away for a short time for a private visit. It’s a bit chilly for a stroll, but perhaps a carriage ride?”

  He topped her hand with his own, and his touch caused a shiver of delight to settle deep inside. Wiggling his index finger, he beckoned her closer. “I have a better idea,” he whispered, his breath tickling her ear and causing another chill to race down her spine. “I have a room here at the hotel. We can slip upstairs, where we won’t be interrupted.” He glanced around the room. “I fear donning our coats and hailing a carriage might cause undue attention.”

  Of course. She should have considered the fact that her plan might attract unwelcome notice. Wesley likely thought her foolhardy. Still, he’d suggested he wanted to speak with her in private, where they’d not be interrupted. Her heart raced. Surely this bespoke his plan to propose marriage. Her excitement mounted and then mingled with a hint of fear. Being seen accompanying a man to his hotel room would not prove wise for her reputation. And if her father got wind of such a tête-à-tête in Wesley’s hotel room, he would be forced to defend his daughter’s honor by rebuffing Wesley—and his financial aid for the Home.

  “We’ll need to be careful,” she whispered.

  He nodded. “Of course. You know I wouldn’t want to do anything to tarnish your reputation. My room is on the third floor, room thirty-six. Take the stairs at the west end of the lobby. Most people use the main staircase, so you’ll have less chance of being detected.” He squeezed her hand. “I’ll go first; you follow in five minutes.”

  Her throat was dry, and her affirmative response was no more than a croak. She watched the clock, each sweep of the second hand seeming an eternity. When had it ever taken so long for five minutes to pass? Thankfully no one approached the table. When the clock had finally ticked off the agreed-upon five minutes, she pushed away from the table.

  She used the exit near their table, where her departure would go unnoticed. At least that was her hope. Her heels clicked as she crossed the Minton tile in the lobby. One of the clerks glanced up from the front desk but immediately turned back to his ledger. The stairwell wasn’t difficult to locate, but by the time she’d ascended the steps, she was thankful Wesley didn’t have a room on the fifteenth floor. She hesitated in the stairwell long enough to catch her breath before hesitantly proceeding down the dimly lit, carpeted corridor.

  If her cousins had been present to see her trembling hands, it would have dispelled their belief that she was courageous. She stared at the walnut door. The number thirty-six was stenciled in black and outlined with gold. The sound of voices drifted from the stairwell and stirred her to action. She tapped on the door and waited.

  The door opened. With hooded eyes and an enticing smile, he reached for her hand. He’d already removed his jacket and tie. The sounds from the stairwell grew louder. She glanced down the shadowy corridor. There was no time to hesitate. Taking a tentative step, she entered the room.

  15

  “Where have you been?” Amanda’s tone was steeped with accusation. “We’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

  Sophie reminded herself to remain calm. She didn’t need or want her cousin assuming a parental role. Yet, of late, Amanda seemed to slip into that position more and more frequently. Sophie had hoped to reenter the side door of the ballroom unobserved. Had Amanda not been hovering, she would have succeeded.

  “We were beginning to worry.” Fanny sighed. “I’m thankful to see you’re all right. I was starting to think something terrible had occurred.”

  “As you can see, I’m perfectly fine.” Sophie turned in an exaggerated twirl. “You see? Perfectly fine.”

  Fanny frowned and pointed to Sophie’s hair. “You’ve rearranged your hair. When did you do that?”

  “And why?” Amanda retrieved a stray hairpin dangling from a loose strand of hair and handed it to Sophie. “It’s a mess and not at all attractive.”

  “Wesley thinks it’s becoming. He prefers my hair this way.” She held her breath and hoped one of them wouldn’t ask exactly where she’d been while rearranging her hair.

  Amanda glanced about the room. “Where is Wesley?”

  Sophie could feel the heat rise in her neck and ascend into her cheeks. “I’m not certain. Perhaps he’s talking to my father about his large donation to the Home.” She focused her attention upon the entrance. If she looked at either of her cousins, they’d know she wasn’t telling the truth. “Why don’t we go to the punch table? I’m terribly thirsty.”

  She didn’t await an answer before heading off toward the refreshment table that had been set up away from the dance floor. Her cousins were whispering as they followed behind her. Amanda said she was acting strange and something was going on, but she couldn’t hear Fanny’s reply. Neither of them appeared to believe anything she’d said. She should have taken an extra few minutes arranging her hair before leaving Wesley’s room, but there hadn’t been time. They’d been away from the festivities far too long as it was.

  “I could hear the two of you whispering,” Sophie said when they arrived at the punch table.

  “We were only saying that you’re acting odd, not like yourself,” Fanny replied.

  Sophie picked up a cup of punch from the lace-and-linencovered refreshment table. She downed the contents in one swallow, her thirst overshadowing the expected etiquette of tiny sips. Returning the cup to the table with a plunk, she motioned her cousins near. “I’m not going to tell you what it is, but my father is going to be making an important announcement this evening.”

  “He’s been making announcements all night long—and declaring each one of them important,” Amanda said.

  Sophie shook her head and another curl escaped. “Not as important as this one.” She pointed toward the front of the room, where her father had once again taken center stage. “Listen.”

  Quincy waved a handkerchief overhead in an effort to quiet the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen. If I could have your attention for one more moment, please.”

  Sophie grabbed Fanny’s hand. “Come on. Let’s move closer.”

  She wanted to hear every word and be close at hand when her father made the announcement. She wanted to hear and see the adulation of the crowd. Her father held a paper in his hand and began to read the names and pledges of those in attendance. With the announcement of each pledge, the crowd erupted in applause. Finally, he silenced them and called Wesley forward to join him.

  “Many of you don’t know Wesley Hedrick, but before the evening is over, I hope you’ll be sure to introduce yourselves.” Her father gave a brief summary of Wesley’s background and the good works he’d performed in both England and New York City. Murmurs of affirmation could be heard throughout the room. After waiting a few moments, Quincy regained the crowd’s attention by waving the list of pledges overhead. “Mr. Hedrick has pledged—” he hesitated, obviously for effect—“ten thousand dollars to the Home for the Friendless.”

  A stunned silence was immediately followed by a frenzy of shouts and applause that would waken any hotel occupants should they be attempting to sleep—even those on the top floor. The room quaked in an enthusiastic celebration that soon brought the hotel management into the room begging for quiet.

  Aunt Victoria and Uncle Jonas had appeared from somewhere in the room and now stood behind Amanda. Her
uncle Jonas stroked his hand across the top of his head. “Can you believe this, Victoria? Quincy has found yet another idiot willing to toss away his fortune on the needy. I absolutely do not understand how Quincy convinces these people to pour money into that place of his.”

  Sophie considered telling her uncle exactly what she thought of his disparaging remark, but her father called her to the stage before she could retaliate. She hurried forward. How she wished her hair looked better for this special moment. She pushed the thought from her mind when she reached Wesley’s side.

  “I promise this will be my last announcement of the evening.” He moved and stood behind Wesley and Sophie, resting a hand on each of their shoulders. “I am pleased to announce the engagement of my daughter, Sophie, to Mr. Wesley Hedrick.”

  She looked at her cousins. Both were obviously stunned by the declaration, but her attention immediately turned toward the sound of shattering glass. Paul had dropped his cup on the dance floor and was staring at the shards of broken glass lying in a pool of orange liquid. He took a backward step and signaled for one of the waiters before stooping down to pick up some of the broken pieces. He looked up and met her gaze but quickly turned away.

  Amanda hurried forward and grasped Sophie’s hand as she moved off the stage. “Where’s your ring?”

  Sophie sighed. “He wanted to be certain my father would raise no objections.” She grinned at her cousin. “But I assure you that the ring he chooses for me will be very special.”

  After the orchestra played the last song of the evening, Sophie slipped out to the lobby to retrieve her wrap. She had rounded the corner and entered the cloakroom when Paul stepped in front of her and blocked her path.

  “Where’s the man of the evening? I’d think he would be at your side.”

  “He’s speaking with my father, if you must know.” She attempted a sidestep, but Paul moved in tandem and prevented her escape. “I’d like to retrieve my coat.”

  “And I’d like to know what you’re doing accepting a marriage proposal from a man you barely know.” He tapped his finger to his forehead. “Have you given this thought, Sophie? More importantly, have you considered praying about the direction you’re taking?”

  Leave it to Paul. He naturally thought every decision in life needed to be prayed over. If she followed that idea, she’d never accomplish anything. The last time she’d asked for divine guidance, she’d waited for nearly two days and still hadn’t received a response. As usual, she’d made the decision on her own. She and God didn’t work on the same time schedule.

  All her life, pious adults had talked about praying before making decisions, but she wondered if they truly received a solution from above. Was she the only one God ignored? Certainly she didn’t live a life that would place her on a direct path to God, but she questioned some of those other folks and their claims of answered prayer. Long ago she’d decided God ignored most everyone. She’d also decided the self-righteous were afraid to admit they were just like her: they hadn’t received heavenly answers, either.

  “I’ve already made my decision. It’s too late for prayer.”

  He winced. Her offhand remark had obviously set him on edge. Well, he deserved as much. If he’d simply step out of her way, she could leave, but he remained planted in front of her, determined to have his say.

  “It’s never too late for prayer. Marriage is a serious step. Promise me you’ll pray about this matter. Until the wedding, it’s not too late to reconsider your decision.”

  “Promise you? Why should I promise you anything?”

  “Because I care about you. You’re one of God’s children,” he quickly added.

  “I see. And you care about all of God’s children.”

  “Yes, but I care even more about those I know.”

  “You know my father much better than you know me, and he has given the marriage his blessing. Perhaps you should trust his judgment. Wesley is a wonderful man, and I love him dearly.” She tipped her head to one side and several curls cascaded over her shoulder. She glanced at the floor when a hairpin pinged on the Minton tile. “I’d think you would be singing Wesley’s praises. You are going to benefit from his generous donation.”

  Paul stooped down and retrieved the hairpin. “We’ve not yet seen any of the money he’s promised. Even his earlier pledges haven’t been forthcoming. Seems he’s having difficulty transferring his funds from England, which I find somewhat strange.”

  “I don’t understand your concern. Wesley is extremely wealthy, and these financial difficulties frequently occur.”

  Paul shook his head. “You’re incorrect on that account. Transferring funds is easily accomplished, and a man of Mr. Hedrick’s business acumen would be knowledgeable in such matters.” He held the hairpin between his thumb and forefinger. “I believe this is yours.” She reached to take it. He clasped her hand and turned it over. “Where is your engagement ring? I would think a man of Mr. Hedrick’s wealth would have wanted to place a lovely gem on your finger when he proposed.”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but Wesley wanted to be certain my father approved of our marriage before purchasing a ring. As soon as his funds arrive from England, he plans to choose something very special.”

  Paul snickered. “Interesting. Seems all of us are waiting upon Mr. Hedrick’s transferred funds. Until then, we’re left with nothing more than his empty promises.”

  “Well, I never!” Sophie elbowed her way past him and retrieved her wrap. The nerve of Paul Medford. Who did he think he was? All his talk of prayer and God, yet he didn’t hesitate to judge Wesley. She considered stomping on his foot but thought it might offer him some perverse satisfaction. With a defiant air, Sophie tipped her chin high into the air. She cringed when two more hairpins escaped her tresses and performed a gentle pirouette before dropping to the floor. Those dreadful hairpins were ruining everything!

  16

  Saturday, June 4, 1898

  Broadmoor Island

  Unlike her cousins, Fanny could hardly wait to arrive in Clayton, New York, and board the boat for Broadmoor Island. She’d been delighted when her uncle Jonas had announced their date of departure. On the other hand, neither he nor the other members of the family had appeared nearly so pleased. But that had come as no surprise to Fanny. Only her grandparents had shared her affection for Broadmoor Island. The rest of the family found no pleasure in visiting the island retreat.

  If Grandfather Broadmoor’s will hadn’t required the family’s return each summer, she knew Uncle Jonas would have already sold the island—just as he’d sold her grandparents’ home in Rochester. Of course, the sale of the Rochester mansion hadn’t bothered most of the family. Only Aunt Victoria, Sophie, and Amanda had also considered the sale a treacherous act. Not because they cared about the house, but because they knew the sale devastated Fanny.

  After realizing the sale had destroyed any possible remaining chance with Fanny, Daniel had written her a letter explaining that he would withdraw the contract if her uncle Jonas would permit him to do so. Thus far, her uncle hadn’t given him permission—at least that’s what Daniel had told her when he attended the charity ball back in March. At first she hadn’t believed him, but he’d escorted Uncle Jonas to the table and had him confirm the request had been made.

  Predictably, her uncle said it was completely dependent upon what the court decided, and courts were notoriously slow in deciding such issues—especially when it came to the withdrawal of funds from the estate. In addition, he’d explained the house would be sold to someone else if Daniel were permitted to withdraw from the purchase. No one would think it prudent to let a young single woman buy the property—even if she had lived there most of her life.

  Given his explanation, Fanny had allowed Daniel to join them at their table at the ball, but she’d made it clear she would never, under any circumstances, permit him to call upon her. She was, after all, eighteen years old now and had given her heart to Michael. Later that evening
Fanny had noticed him dancing with several other partners. His wounded heart had obviously healed.

  When she stepped off the DaisyBee at Broadmoor Island, she experienced the same exhilaration she’d felt since childhood. She would never tire of the fragrant smell of the lush island greenery, the sound of water lapping at the shore, and the prospect of sitting in the kitchen with Mrs. Atwell, inhaling the aromas of freshly baked bread and frying bacon early in the morning.

  The older woman had packed many a picnic lunch for her and Michael to take on their frequent treks across the island to fish or to forage for arrowheads in their younger years. Each summer she realized how much Michael’s mother had influenced her life. No one could explain God’s Word any better than Mrs. Atwell. Not even the preacher at their East Avenue church in Rochester. Today she could barely restrain her anticipation.

  Memories of Michael were everywhere. She felt his presence so keenly that she almost expected to see him smiling and waving to her from the boathouse. Soon. He’ll be back soon, and then we need never be parted again. Whether he brings a fortune or not, it no longer matters. I will marry him, and we will be very content whatever our circumstance.

  When they reached the top of the path and entered the house, Fanny started to proceed down the hallway while the rest of the family took to the stairs.

  “Fanny!” She turned at the sound of her uncle Jonas’s voice. “I’d like to speak with you.”

  Her shoulders sagged at his request. “But I—”

  “This won’t take long. The maids will see to unpacking your clothes, and there’s nothing that requires your immediate attention.” He motioned her back toward the veranda. “Come, let’s sit outside, where we can enjoy the breeze from the river.”

  She wondered if he truly wanted to enjoy the breeze or simply wanted to sit outdoors, where no one would overhear their conversation. Fanny had come to understand her uncle preferred to converse in private. That way no one could prove or disprove anything that he’d either said or denied.