Ryan came to sit next to her. He didn’t say anything, just put his arm around her, and she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder as if they’d sat that way many times before. Billy decided to get in on the action, probably jealous that Lauren was paying attention to someone else, and came to stand at Ryan’s feet, wagging his tail and looking up imploringly. Ryan lifted him up onto the couch and settled him on the other side, his hand stroking Billy’s head. The three of them remained like that until the fire burned down, and Lauren’s thoughts stopped spinning long enough for her to tell Ryan what had happened.
“She knowingly came to your aid?” Ryan asked, stroking her hair affectionately.
“She led me away from the edge. She was aware of me, Ryan, not like before when she seemed not to notice my presence.”
“That’s bizarre,” Ryan said, shaking his head.
“It is, but that’s what happened.”
“Were you afraid of her?”
“No. She clearly wanted to help me,” Lauren replied, astonished that they were even having this conversation.
“She seems to have chosen you,” Ryan said.
“For what?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps she feels some sort of kinship with you.”
“Why would she? She lived hundreds of years ago. What could we possibly have in common?”
“Maybe she’ll eventually tell you, if you stay long enough,” Ryan replied.
Lauren snuggled closer to him, enjoying his solid presence. She was intrigued by the prospect. Was Sophie trying to communicate with her? Then a different sort of thought fought its way to the top. Was Ryan humoring her? Did he think she’d imagined the whole thing, but didn’t want to tell her outright she was crazy?
“Ryan, I really did see her,” Lauren said, her voice small and wobbly.
“I know you did,” he replied, stroking her back as if she were a colicky baby. “I believe you.”
“You said you didn’t believe in ghosts,” she reminded him.
“I lied.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t want you to think I was weird,” Ryan replied, smiling down at her. “I’ve never seen an apparition, but after Alicia died, there were moments when I felt her presence, especially when I was worried or stressed. I was a first-time dad, trying to parent a baby on my own. I was scared and unsure of what I was doing half the time. There were a few instances when I really panicked, and suddenly, I heard Alicia’s voice in my head, telling me to calm down and follow my instincts.”
“Do you think she was really there?”
“Not in any physical sense, but I think my mind conjured up her response based on my profound knowledge of her. I resurrected her because I needed her.”
“Do you think I’m resurrecting Sophie somehow?”
Ryan shrugged. “I really couldn’t say, but the fact that she’s shown herself to you must mean something.”
“I think she’s lost someone dear to her and can’t accept they’re gone.”
“Kind of like you?” he asked gently.
Lauren nodded, unable to speak. She had lost someone dear to her, but she’d lost a lot more than that, things she hadn’t told anyone about, not even her parents. Perhaps Sophie had sensed her pain and reached out through the centuries, stepping through the veil of time to comfort a kindred spirit.
“I wonder who she lost,” Ryan mused.
“I think it was her baby. I saw her trying to comfort it when it was ill. Maybe it died and she never came to terms with her grief.”
“That could certainly be the case. Medicine in those days did more harm than good, and children were often the first to be carried off in any epidemic.”
“I wonder where Sophie’s buried,” Lauren said, sitting up straighter now that the whisky and fire had done their bit to dispel the chill. “Is there any way to find out?”
“We can certainly check, but not today. I think it’s time you went to bed. You look done in.”
“Thank you,” Lauren said, looking up at him through a haze of fatigue. “Thank you for coming.”
“You don’t need to thank me. I’ll come whenever you call,” Ryan replied. He cupped her face and ran a thumb over her cheek, making her shiver with the intimacy of the gesture. She thought he might kiss her, but he gave her a chaste peck on the forehead before getting to his feet. “Do you think you might want to move to a different bedroom?” he asked, smiling in a way that suggested he already knew what she’d say.
“No, I want to be close to her, especially after what she did for me tonight. It’s not her I’m afraid of.”
Lauren was relieved when Ryan didn’t ask what she’d meant. She’d revealed more than she’d intended to tonight, and she was too tired and emotionally overwrought to explain something she’d never meant to say out loud.
“I’ll say goodnight, then,” he said, opening the door and stepping out into the moonless night. “Call me if you need anything.”
“I’ll be all right now,” Lauren promised, and for some reason, she was sure she would be.
Chapter 24
Sophie
July 1727
The room was unbearably stuffy, the late afternoon sun shining undimmed through the leaded window. Sophie wished she could shed her gown and lie on the bed in her shift, but that wasn’t to be. They were dining with the Reverend and Mrs. Chapman, a middle-aged couple of George’s acquaintance who invited them to dine every other Monday, like clockwork. Sophie didn’t care for Reverend Chapman, a corpulent man with a florid complexion and a grating voice that he liked to exercise to great excess. His wife was a mouse of a woman, badgered and humiliated into submission by a husband who treated her like a dimwitted child.
“Are you nearly ready?” George called from below.
“Almost.”
Sophie pushed the last pin into the bun atop her head and covered it with a lace-trimmed cap before descending the stairs. George nodded in approval and they set off. It had cooled a little outside while she was getting ready, and she enjoyed the brief walk, wishing they could just keep walking right past the reverend’s house. But George thought it important to keep up with the neighbors, especially ones who had some influence in the community and could be of use. Reverend Chapman taught theology at the college and instructed his students to buy the necessary texts at Holland’s Book Shoppe, a favor George greatly appreciated and made mention of as often as he could without sounding sycophantic.
Casting a last longing look at the dramatic sunset, Sophie followed George into the house, where a servant directed them to the parlor. Mrs. Chapman sat in her usual chair, a small glass of sherry in her hand, while the reverend conversed loudly with two men who stood with their backs to the door. For one brief moment, Sophie froze, her heart thumping painfully as her gaze settled on the younger of the two men. His auburn hair was tied back in a ponytail with a black ribbon, the coppery strands catching the last of the evening light. The set of his shoulders and his relaxed stance were so like Teddy’s that Sophie let out an involuntary gasp, earning herself a look of reproach from George.
The reverend stopped mid-sentence and greeted the newcomers, forcing the two men to turn around and do likewise. Sophie trembled with relief. As much as she longed to see Teddy again or learn something of his fate, she had no wish to do so in Reverend Chapman’s parlor, in front of George.
“Ah, there you are. Allow me to introduce you,” the reverend boomed as George and Sophie approached.
“The Reverend Noah Trevor and his nephew Alexander Trevor, who’ve only just arrived from England. Our esteemed friends and neighbors, Mr. George Holland and his lovely wife.”
Sophie lowered her gaze demurely, afraid her resentment of the reverend would show plainly in her eyes. She didn’t even warrant an introduction. She was simply the wife, George’s chattel. The men bowed over her hand and assured her what a delight it was to make her acquaintance, and Sophie replied in kind, like a well-trained dog.
> “Shall we adjourn to the dining room?” the reverend invited, strolling on ahead and completely ignoring his wife, who brought up the rear.
“What brings you to our humble colony?” George asked as soon as the soup was served.
“I’ve been invited to take up a teaching post at the college, and Alexander has been enrolled to study mathematics,” Reverend Trevor replied. “I confess, I’m relieved to have arrived safely.”
“Did you encounter stormy weather, Reverend?” Sophie asked, refusing to eat in silence like poor Mrs. Chapman.
“The weather was pleasant for most of the crossing, but there are other dangers at sea,” Alexander replied, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Uncle was terrified we’d be set upon by pirates.”
“Pirates?” Sophie exclaimed.
“Indeed, my dear lady,” Reverend Trevor replied. “Travel by sea has become most perilous.”
“Is that so?” George asked, putting down his soup spoon and fixing his gaze on the Trevors. “Do tell.”
“Many a ship has been attacked,” Reverend Trevor said, his cheeks reddening with outrage.
“Most pirate companies are based in the Caribbean islands, but they do not limit themselves to sailing the Caribbean Sea. They are coming further and further afield. No ship traveling from Europe is safe,” Alexander said, directing his comment to Sophie.
“What happens when they spot a ship?” Sophie asked, her soup forgotten.
“They pursue the ship for a time, staying well within sight to frighten the passengers and the crew, then come close enough to fire a warning shot and demand to board the vessel. If the captain refuses, they fire on the ship. They are well armed, their cannon outnumbering the cannon on any non-naval vessel by at least two to one. It’s not in their interests to sink the ship, since the cargo would be lost, but they do enough damage to make sure the ship is no longer seaworthy, effectively sentencing everyone aboard to death.”
“And then?” Sophie asked, her breath catching in her throat.
“They board the vessel, plunder the cargo, relieve the passengers of any valuables they might have, take anything they need for their own voyage, like foodstuffs and drinking water, and more often than not, press members of the crew, mostly young men who are fit and strong, into service.”
“Do they kill anyone?” Sophie asked, her eyes never leaving Alexander Trevor’s suntanned face. Close up, he didn’t look anything like Teddy, but something in his manner reminded her of Teddy all the same.
“Only if they try to resist. The passengers rarely put up a fight, but there are brave and foolish captains who decide to engage in a sea battle, the result being a decimated crew, a ship too damaged to make port, and a reputation in tatters for the idiot captain who risked it all for a few sacks of grain or a shipment of fine china.”
“How very frightening,” Sophie said, her hand flying to her breast.
“Don’t you worry, my dear,” Reverend Chapman cut in. “Those scoundrels will all be captured and executed. The Royal Navy is on high alert. They’re patrolling the seas and eliminating the pirate ships one by one. In fact, I hear the French have joined the fight, as well as the Dutch and the Spanish. The pirates are attacking all ships, regardless of the colors they sail under, so it’s no longer strictly a British problem.”
“Well, that’s good to know,” George said. “Of course, no one can hope to compete with the might of the Royal Navy, but it’s nice to know those lesser countries are finally taking action. Why, several of the ships we’ve had goods on were attacked, but luckily for us, the pirates are not interested in literature. They direct their efforts toward stealing more valuable goods.”
“There’s no cargo of higher value than the written word,” Reverend Trevor chimed in.
“I can’t imagine they’d earn much profit from a stack of Bibles,” Alexander replied, making Sophie smile into her napkin.
“You cannot put a value on the word of our Lord,” Reverend Chapman thundered.
“Nor was I trying to, but you must admit that several bolts of fine silk or casks of brandy are more desirable than Paradise Lost.”
“Young man, you’re impertinent,” Reverend Chapman replied, his face mottled with anger.
“I do apologize, Reverend. I meant no offense. I was simply stating the obvious,” Alexander replied humbly, but Sophie noticed the gleam of triumph in his eyes. He’d enjoyed riling the reverend. His gaze slid toward her and she smiled at him, acknowledging his small victory against the tyranny of clerics who dominated the faculty of the college and therefore the town itself.
“Shall we move on to the second course?” Mrs. Chapman inquired meekly, her eyes downcast and her cheeks flushed as if she’d just asked if they should all disrobe and dance around the dinner table.
“By all means,” her husband replied, glaring at the servant who hadn’t dared to begin clearing the plates without word from her mistress.
The rest of the meal passed in lively discussion, mostly because Alexander Trevor made it a point to stir things up, his blue eyes dancing with merriment as he irritated Reverend Chapman and his uncle time and again. Since Sophie had made the acquaintance of Reverend Chapman, this was the most pleasant meal they’d shared together, and she hoped the Trevors would be invited back, but given Reverend Chapman’s belligerent demeanor, she highly doubted it.
“I do hope to see you again, Mrs. Holland,” Alexander said as they prepared to leave. “You have brought beauty and charm to an otherwise lackluster gathering,” he added under his breath.
Sophie’s cheeks heated with pleasure, but she didn’t reply. Alexander Trevor was the type of young man who enjoyed flouting convention. She was simply a means to an end in his quest to liven up what had promised to be a very dull evening.
The heat outside had abated while they were at dinner, and Sophie inhaled the fragrant evening air, enjoying its caress on her face. It wasn’t until they’d nearly reached their own house that she realized George had been unusually quiet on the walk home and made virtually no comment on the Trevors, something Sophie found unusual. George was always full of opinions and liked to share them with her whether she was interested or not.
“How dare you humiliate me like that?” George rounded on her as soon as they were inside.
“What have I done?” Sophie asked, taken completely unawares.
“What have you done? Other than brazenly encourage young Trevor to pay attention to you by asking those insipid questions?”
“I was simply participating in the conversation,” Sophie replied, stung by his accusation.
“And what made you think your contribution was welcome? What you have to say is of no interest to anyone. You are there simply as my wife, an ornament, nothing more.”
“George, I didn’t do anything wrong,” Sophie protested. The slap that followed made her teeth rattle, and she stared at George as her hand flew to her stinging cheek.
“Don’t you ever disrespect me that way again. Is that clear?”
“And if I do?” Sophie snapped, shocked by the sudden change in him. She’d never seen this side of him in the two months they’d been married and hoped that her defiance would make him see the error of his ways, but George came closer, bringing his face within an inch of hers.
“If you ever embarrass me that way again, you will receive a lot worse than a slap across the face.”
“Such as?” Sophie whispered, horrified by his behavior.
“Why don’t you keep testing my patience and you’ll find out. Now, get upstairs and go to bed. I have nothing more to say to you.”
George spun on his heel and walked into the parlor, slamming the door shut behind him and leaving Sophie reeling with the injustice of what had just occurred. For one thing, she hadn’t expressed any opinions or asked any questions that might be embarrassing to George, and for another, she’d done nothing to encourage Alexander Trevor. He hadn’t needed encouragement.
He’s jealous, Sophie thought as she
trudged upstairs, her shoulders slumped in misery. He thought I found Alexander Trevor appealing. She sighed deeply and began to undress for bed, wondering how she might convince George he had nothing to worry about without making it known to him that she understood the reason for his rage. She didn’t think calling attention to his masculine insecurity would win her any favors, not when he was in such a black mood.
Sophie hung up her gown, released her hair from its pins, blew out the candle, and climbed into bed. Her cheek no longer throbbed, but her pride had been wounded by George’s outburst. She hoped that having had time to cool off, he’d see that he’d wronged her and apologize.
She was already falling asleep when George entered the bedroom. He made no effort to be quiet as he quickly undressed and got into bed. Pretending to be asleep seemed like the best course of action, so Sophie rolled onto her side, facing away from him, and waited for him to fall asleep, but George had other ideas. He reached for her and rolled her onto her back, pushing her nightdress up and shoving his knee between her legs to pry them apart. Sophie cried out as he pushed into her, thrusting roughly several times before achieving his climax and rolling off.
“George,” she said, her voice trembling with pain and shock. “I’m sorry. I never meant to offend you.”
She’d thought her apology would soften his stony demeanor, but he simply turned on his side and went to sleep, ignoring her distress.
Chapter 25
When Sophie came down to breakfast the following morning, George greeted her with a warm smile. “Good morning, my dear. Did you sleep well?”
“Eh, yes,” Sophie replied, wondering if he’d forgotten the whole incident. He hadn’t overindulged in liquor, but perhaps he’d drunk more than his limit.
“Excellent. What is your plan for the day?”
“I was going to go visit Mrs. Littleton. She’s been unwell, and I thought she might appreciate the company.”
“Very commendable of you,” George replied genially. “But I would prefer if you were to wait until she’s recovered. She might have something catching, and I wouldn’t want you falling ill.”
The House on the Hill: A Ghost Story Page 14