“Sophie, that’s absurd.” He ran his hands through his hair.
“Which part, Richard? The part that you should respect me or the part that you think I am weak?”
“Sophie, you’re blowing this out of proportion. That man was drunk and extremely aggressive.”
“You’re drunk and aggressive!”
Richard put his hands to his head in obvious frustration. “There was no way you could have fought him off.”
Sophie pointed at him in accusation. “Maybe not, but that doesn’t make me weak, or an idiot for taking a walk with Christine without you escorting us. It also doesn’t give you the right to rule over me.”
Richard reached out to touch her but she deflected him. He lowered his hand and closed it into a fist at his side. “I just want you to be safe.”
“Richard, I am safe.” She settled her palm over her chest in earnestness. “Look, I’m sorry if we scared you, and I agree that we should have at least told someone where we were going, but you don’t own me and I certainly don’t answer to you. If you want this friendship to continue, I need you to remember that. Right now, I’d appreciate some space. Do you think you can do that for me?”
Richard nodded. “I don’t want to fight with you, Sophie. Truce?”
“Yes, truce. Now, why don’t the three of you go back in, and I’ll join you shortly.”
“I’ll stay with you.” Christine followed Sophie to her room. “Is everything all right? Well, besides the obvious?”
Sophie closed the door and took a deep breath. “Yes, I just needed a minute without the Neanderthal hovering. That man drives me crazy. I don’t understand where he gets off thinking he owns me. He’s so intense and I don’t always know how to react. The way he grabbed me tonight scared me, but it also made me angry, because I hate that he’s ruining our friendship.” She ranted as she paced, hands flailing in frustration.
“What happened after we left the barn?”
Sophie paused and crossed her arms. “Nothing happened. Well, other than crying all over the poor lieutenant’s jacket and looking like a totally unbalanced female.”
Christine wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “It was a frightening experience. I had a moment myself on the way back to the house. I thought Richard was going to have an apoplexy. He’s not accustomed to a crying female. Did the lieutenant understand?”
“That’s just it. He’s wonderful. Sweet and totally understanding. He held me and stroked my hair and made me feel protected and loved.” Sophie sat down on the trunk and put her face in her hands. “He reminds me so much of Jamie.”
“Well, we should go down to the party and try to forget this upset, have a pleasant evening, and put all of this behind us. What do you say?”
“All right, Christine, I’ll try.”
Sophie stood and she and Christine made their way back downstairs. Walking through the foyer and down the hall to the ballroom, they saw James turn and look straight at Sophie. He was standing just outside the doors, and the vision of him took her back to her wedding. She didn’t know why she hadn’t noticed before, but he was wearing the exact uniform Jamie wore that day. She grabbed Christine’s hand for stability.
“Sophie, what’s amiss?” she whispered.
Sophie took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself. “Memories.”
They continued to the doors of the ballroom.
“Lieutenant Emerson, shouldn’t you be inside?” Christine smiled.
“I was taking some air and preparing to go inside when I saw you. I thought I’d wait and escort you in.”
“So, you weren’t hovering around to make sure we were all right?” Sophie asked.
“Wouldn’t even think about it,” he said with a huge grin.
“Good answer.” Sophie smiled as her heart beat double-time and she laid her palm over her chest as if to calm it.
James suddenly seemed nervous. “What’s wrong with your heart?”
“My heart?” She raised an eyebrow at him and lowered her hand. “Nothing. I just do that sometimes, it’s an old habit.”
His stare lingered briefly but he didn’t comment further.
“Did you get ice for your hand?” Sophie asked.
James studied the bruises. “No need.”
Sophie turned to Christine. “I’m going to take the Lieutenant to the kitchen, go on in without me.”
Christine’s eyes widened. “Is that wise?”
Sophie frowned. “Why would it be unwise?”
Christine pulled her aside. “You shouldn’t be alone with a man.”
“How am I alone? The house is full of guests, not to mention staff. I promise I won’t find an empty room and kiss him senseless—tonight.”
Christine gasped as her face turned beet red. “You are terrible.”
Sophie giggled. “I know. Now, go join the party.” Sophie walked her back to the doors of the ballroom and waited for Christine to let herself inside before facing the Lieutenant. “Follow me, please.”
“Ma’am, it’s really not necessary.”
Her head whipped up. “If you call me ‘ma’am’ one more time, I’ll convince Michael to amputate that hand,” she threatened as she led him down one corridor and then another on their way to the kitchen.
James laughed. A loud, deep, belly laugh, and Sophie nearly lost her mind. It was the same. The exact same.
“You have quite the vicious sense of humor, ma—I mean, Sophie.”
Sophie grinned. “Good save.”
Voices and smells wafted through the hallway as the couple arrived at the kitchen, and Sophie led him inside, a smile covering her face when she saw the cook directing everyone in her matronly voice.
When Sophie had first met Mary, she was taken aback. The woman was taller than she was—and thinner. She reminded Sophie of a flamingo, however, her countenance was that of a strict governess and her dark brown hair, peppered with gray, didn’t fit Sophie’s idea of what a nineteenth-century cook would look like, but she instantly loved her all the same. Sophie had always been drawn to the older generation, the crankier the better, and Jamie used to tell her she could charm the socks off anyone over the age of fifty.
“How’s my favorite cook?” Sophie asked as she approached the woman.
“You stop right there, Missie. You’re not allowed in my kitchens.”
“As you’ve said, Mary. However, I have a soldier with a nasty bruised hand and I was hoping you might have some ice for him.”
Mary stared at James, suspicion in her eyes. “Why does he have a bruised hand?”
Sophie leaned over and whispered, “He was defending my honor.”
A grunt was Mary’s only reply as she turned and found a block of ice and an ice pick. Sophie watched James’s expression as the woman picked off a mound of ice and nearly giggled as he stepped back slightly. Mary was quite adept at using the ice pick—a little too adept.
Wrapping the shavings into a sackcloth, Mary handed it to Sophie and then shooed her from the room but not before Sophie caught her quick wink. Sophie led James down the hall and to a small alcove that housed a bench perfect for the couple to sit on before joining the party. “Sit.”
He did so, and Sophie pulled his injured hand toward her. She laid the icepack gently over his knuckles, holding it in place as she sat and settled his hand on her lap. Raising her head, she caught his expression, and her heart stammered at the confusion she read in his eyes, but then he smiled and the look was gone.
“Better?” Her voice was gravelly with emotion.
“Much.” His smile deepened. “Thank you.”
“Miss Sophie?”
Sophie looked up to find Betty walking quickly toward them. “Hi, Betty. Did you need something?”
“I was asked to retrieve you, ma’am.”
Sophie stood and tried to keep the irritation from her voice. “Retrieve me?”
James stood as well and Betty stepped back slightly. “Yes’m.”
“By whom?” he
asked.
Betty cleared her throat but didn’t answer the question.
“Betty?” Sophie crossed her arms. “By whom?”
Betty studied her shoes. “Mr. Madden.”
“Thank you, Betty,” Sophie said through gritted teeth. “I’ll be along shortly.”
Betty didn’t budge. Sophie narrowed her eyes. “What?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I am to escort you.”
“Are you kidding me?” Feeling a hand gently touch her back, Sophie took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Betty, you don’t work for Richard Madden, so please don’t worry about getting into trouble. I’ll be along shortly.”
Before Betty could respond, heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway and Sophie glared as Richard approached. “You are supposed to be in the ballroom.”
“And you are supposed to be giving me space,” she countered.
“What were you doing?”
“None of your business.”
Richard turned his gaze to the lieutenant. “Missing your mama, James? Has the ice helped?”
James chuckled but Sophie moved to strike. “You are such a jerk!”
“Sophie,” James whispered in warning under his breath, sending a shiver down her spine.
“Sophie, come back inside, and we’ll dance.” Richard’s tone was laced with warning.
“I’m not dancing with you, and I’m not coming back inside until I know my guest is comfortable.”
“I’m perfectly fine, Mrs. Ford.” James handed the ice to Betty. “Shall we return?”
Sophie shook, anger coursing through her veins, as she tried to get her emotions under control. “Yes, lieutenant. Let’s join the party.”
Richard offered his arm but Sophie glanced at him before wrapping her hand in the crook of James’s elbow. Catching the flash of anger in Richard’s eyes, she glared at him in response and swept her hand in front of her. “After you, Mr. Madden.”
Richard paused for several seconds but eventually made his move toward the ballroom. Sophie held James back for a few extra seconds and then let him lead her in the same direction.
“You are poking the bear, Mrs. Ford.”
Sophie gasped at the use of one of her favorite expressions. She used to warn Jamie the same way when Luke was angry. For whatever reason, Jamie liked to push his best friend almost to the point of physical altercation and Sophie never understood why. “Where did you hear that?”
“I’m sorry?”
“That expression. I didn’t realize it was common in, uh—these parts.”
James’s eyebrows puckered. “I’m not certain. I don’t believe I’ve ever used it before, but it seemed appropriate in this situation.”
Sophie chuckled. “Most definitely. And yes, I’m poking the bear. He’s being a jerk and I don’t care for it.” Sophie leaned over and added in a whisper, “I don’t belong to him.”
They arrived at the doors of the ballroom, Richard standing sentry and glaring in James’s general direction. James escorted Sophie inside, the moment was forgotten, and the rest of the evening passed without incident.
The party wrapped up just after midnight and Sophie couldn’t have been more relieved. Exhausted and wanting to curl up in a ball and sleep for a year, she waited with Christine in the foyer and said farewell to the final guests with Michael and Nona, as Richard and James both walked up. Michael and Nona said their goodnights and then the girls walked the men out to the front porch. James said farewell to Christine and turned to Sophie.
“Mrs. Ford, it was very nice to meet you. Thank you for a lovely evening.” Her stomach somersaulted as he took her hand and kissed it.
As he lowered his hand, she noticed something on his palm. “Lieutenant, how did you get that scar on your hand?”
He stared at it briefly before answering, “I don’t remember.”
“That’s quite a nasty scar not to remember how you got it.”
Richard interrupted any further conversation by taking both Sophie’s hands in his. He kissed them, lingering a little longer than was perhaps necessary, and forcing her to smell his alcohol-laden breath. “Sophie, I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well.”
Sophie and Christine went upstairs, helped each other out of their dresses, and then went to bed. Sophie, too emotionally drained to dwell on the bizarre night, fell into a deep sleep.
* * *
“Baby, are you remembering now?”
“Jamie?” Sophie opened her eyes, but it wasn’t Jamie standing over her bed. “James?”
“Remember the cut?”
Sophie thought back to the night Jamie made dinner and the shout she’d heard from the kitchen. Rushing into the room, she found blood everywhere, and Jamie standing over the sink with a bloody towel wrapped around his hand, his face pinched in pain.
“Baby, what happened?” Sophie asked.
“I sliced open my hand. Dang, it hurts. If I can just get the bleeding stopped, I think it’ll be fine. We’ll wrap it tight and I’ll be good to go.”
“Let me have a look.”
A trip to the hospital ended with eight stitches and a scar that was a constant reminder of how close Jamie came to losing function in his left hand.
* * *
Sophie jerked awake and sat up slowly.
James.
Jamie. Looks like him, sounds like him, has identical scar. If I could just get him to show me his chest.
“For more than just confirmation,” Sophie said aloud, her body suddenly aroused.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Sophie woke up late, her face and lip smarting from the night before, and the dream about Jamie’s cut hand feeling more like a nightmare.
Well past nine o’clock when she finally dragged herself out of bed, she splashed water on her face in an effort to wake up. Walking over to the windows, she opened them, allowing the breeze to freshen the room. A beautiful spring day greeted her, and she took a deep breath. The smell of wild flowers was better than any Glade Plug-In she’d used in the future.
Observing activity over at the stables, she noticed James almost immediately, speaking with a few of the men and laughing. His jacket had been discarded and he wore a light shirt and a blue pair of pants.
Yum, aren’t you magnificent?
Settling her elbow on the windowsill, Sophie sighed as she watched him direct, and then stand back and observe as the men worked with the horses. She stood up and pushed her hair away from her face.
Maybe I should take a little walk to visit Samson.
Sophie dressed and stepped across the hall to check on Topper before she made her way downstairs. He wasn’t in his room and when she arrived in the dining room, no one was around, so she grabbed a quick bite of food before gathering her outerwear and making her way to the stables. The sun was bright despite the slight chill, and she kept her head down as she rounded the corner into the darkened interior. She ran into a solid wall of muscle. Strong arms gently grasped her arms to steady her. “I’m so sorry, excuse me.”
“Pardon me, I’m sorry,” Sophie said at the same time. When she looked up, her heart skipped a beat. “Oh, Lieutenant Emerson. Good morning.”
After studying her for a brief moment, he smiled. “Good morning, Mrs. Ford, how are you this morning? How’s your lip?”
“Much better, thank you for asking. It’s still a bit sore, but I think I’ll live.” She smiled without thought, and grimaced slightly as her lip smarted. Putting her hand to her mouth, she chuckled quietly. “Ow.”
His eyes flashed with concern. “Are you all right?”
He was staring at her as though she was the most important person in the world, reminiscent of a man she was not ready to forget. Sophie lowered her head shyly. “Yes, I’m fine.”
“Sophie, is that you?”
James stepped away from her and Sophie rolled her eyes. “Hi, Richard.” She turned towards his voice coming from the barn, irritated at the interruption.
“Is everything all right? What are you d
oing here?”
“I came to see Samson and ran into Lieutenant Emerson.”
“Literally.” James chuckled under his breath so that only she could hear him.
Sophie glanced up at him and he gave her a small grin. She felt warmth in her cheeks as she looked back at Richard. He had moved to her side in an obvious attempt to put himself between her and James. She tried not to scowl.
“Lieutenant Emerson!” The group turned to see Topper jog from the arena. “I think I did it.”
James turned and reached out to take the rope Topper held out to him. He turned it over in his hands a few times and then yanked the edges to test its strength. “This is well done, Private. I dare say I couldn’t have done better.”
Sophie’s heart melted at the look on Topper’s face. His countenance changed in an instant, and she could see the pride in his eyes. She smiled. Jamie was great with angry teenagers; it would appear his doppelganger was as well.
Richard squeezed her elbow. “Would you like to watch the training this morning?”
No, I don’t want to watch the training. I want to watch the lieutenant. Preferably without clothing.
Sophie shook off her fantasies and glanced up at Richard. “Um, sure. Let me just check on Samson and then I’ll join you in a moment.”
“All right.” Richard nodded towards the arena. “James, if I could speak with you for a moment?”
“Certainly.” Giving Sophie another quick smile, he followed Richard. “Topper? You coming?”
Sophie had a feeling Richard trumped up the question just to separate them, but she watched them make their way back to the arena, Topper following quickly. She made her way over to Samson’s stall and tried to calm her racing thoughts. Samson poked his head out to greet her and she spent a few minutes with him. It gave her time to pull herself together before walking back to the arena. Although she spent over an hour watching the training, Sophie wasn’t really paying attention, drawn to the lieutenant who stood to her left working with a group of about ten men. She couldn’t take her eyes off him.
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