An Unexpected Love

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An Unexpected Love Page 15

by Tracie Peterson


  “You have no choice, Miss Sophie. You can’t go out in these wet garments.”

  Sophie took a backward step. “Where is Amanda? If I force myself into one of her corsets, I should be able to fit into one of her gowns.”

  “She and Miss Fanny are in the music room. I’ll go fetch her.”

  Once Minnie had gone off in search of her cousin, Sophie paced a circle in front of the fireplace. Perhaps the fire would radiate enough heat to magically dry her gown. Unfortunately, it appeared to be having little effect. How had she managed to get so wet? The carriage driver’s uniform must be frozen solid. She shivered at the thought.

  “Sophie!” Arms outstretched, Amanda entered the room and enveloped Sophie in a hug.

  “We didn’t know you’d arrived.” Fanny embraced Sophie once Amanda had released her hold. “Minnie tells us you took a tumble in the snow.”

  “Yes, and I must go shopping before Wesley arrives. Would you fetch me one of your corsets and gowns, Amanda? One that isn’t too tight.” Sophie turned and stood still while Minnie began unfastening the row of tiny ivory buttons.

  “I think my clothing would be the better fit,” Fanny said. “Perhaps somewhat shorter than required, but you can wear one of Amanda’s long cloaks, and no one will be the wiser.” Fanny raced from the room and soon returned with a corset and a pink-and-gray-striped day dress. “This will work, I think.”

  Once out of her soggy gown, Sophie dismissed Minnie. “My cousins will help me dress. I’m certain you have matters of greater import that need your attention.”

  The maid draped Sophie’s gown over one arm and nodded. “Indeed. Drying and pressing this gown for one. And with Veda gone to pack and fetch your clothing, I must see to her chores, as well.” She shook her head and clucked tsk-tsk several times before leaving them alone.

  While her cousins helped cinch her into the corset, Sophie elicited their opinions. They both agreed that a photograph and frame would be the perfect Christmas gift.

  “Will you come with me?”

  Amanda glanced out the window. “I don’t know if we should go out with it snowing like this.”

  “This is Rochester, Amanda. Don’t act as though we’ve never been out in the snow before. It will be fun.”

  Fanny quickly agreed, and soon Sophie had convinced Amanda she should join them. They discovered Maurice, one of the Broadmoor liverymen, in the kitchen enjoying a cup of coffee and a molasses cookie. He appeared none too happy over the prospect of driving them into town for their shopping foray, but they all knew he had little choice in the matter. After a final gulp of his coffee, he agreed to meet them at the front of the house in half an hour. Shoving the remainder of the cookie into his mouth, he headed out the side door toward the carriage house.

  “What are the three of you up to?” George called out as they passed the large library Uncle Jonas used as his office.

  “We’re going—” Amanda started.

  Sophie put her finger to her lips and shook her head. “I’ll explain later,” she whispered. Peeking around the door, she pointed upstairs. “We’re going to Amanda’s room to choose the dresses we plan to wear this evening.”

  “Is that all the three of you have to do?” He gazed at the ledgers spread across the desk.

  Uncle Jonas thought both of his younger sons far too lazy and had placed George in charge of keeping books for the flour mill, the one remaining business the family still owned. And he’d charged Jefferson with overseeing the mill operation, although Jefferson spent little time at the task. Both of the young men had encouraged their father to sell the mill, but it was an asset Hamilton Broadmoor had required to remain in the family. It was, after all, a symbol of Broadmoor success. It was Grandfather’s first business venture—the place that had provided enough income to build the Broadmoor family fortune and to permit future investments. Obviously Uncle Jonas thought work for the Daisy Flour Mill would mature his sons. Sophie doubted her uncle’s strategy, but who could say? She had changed since meeting Wesley. Perhaps a bit of work would have a positive effect upon George and Jefferson.

  “Where’s Jefferson?” Sophie innocently asked George.

  “He needed to go down to the mill and decided to go before the weather turned any worse. He should be back in a couple hours if you’d like to continue that snowball fight.” He gave her an exaggerated wink.

  She offered an apology that she hoped would clear the air. Once Wesley arrived, she certainly didn’t want any difficulty with George or Jefferson.

  “What was that all about?” Amanda inquired.

  Sophie quickly explained the snowball melee. “I don’t want him to retaliate,” she admitted. “Fortunately Jefferson has left for the mill. I was afraid they would be waiting for us when we walked outdoors.”

  Maurice arrived with the carriage a short time later. He jumped down and hurried to the front porch to assist them. Thankfully one of the servants had been stationed at the sidewalk and was now keeping the walkway clear of snow. The three young women snuggled close together to ward off the cold.

  “You know we think you quite dear,” Fanny said. “Otherwise, we would never come out in this weather.”

  Sophie clasped Fanny’s hand. “And you are both dear to me, also. What would we do without one another?”

  Amanda grinned. “Remain by the fireside and keep warm?”

  Their giggles soon erupted into stomach-clenching bursts of laughter. Had passersby heard them, they likely would have thought they’d all gone completely mad.

  They decided they would first stop at the photographer’s shop. When the carriage slowed to a stop, they wiped away their tears of laughter and attempted to assume the proper decorum.

  Amanda stepped out of the carriage first. “We shouldn’t be long, Maurice.”

  Sophie didn’t comment, for she secretly desired to remain inside the shop for quite some time. If possible, she planned to arrange an immediate sitting. At least the snow had subsided, which should allay her cousins’ complaints if the owner of the shop had time to photograph her. Although she would have preferred one of her own lovely gowns, Fanny’s dress was very pretty, and both her cousins had agreed it was becoming, albeit an inch too short. She’d simply request a picture that wouldn’t reveal the hem of her skirt.

  A bell jangled above the door when they entered, and moments later a beak-nosed woman peeked around the corner of a back room and held up a finger. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

  Sophie arched her brows. “Do you think she’s the photographer?”

  “Why not? Women are capable of taking pictures, Sophie.”

  “I know, I know.” Sophie gazed heavenward. She didn’t want to hear another one of Amanda’s equality speeches. “I merely expected a man would own the business.”

  Before her cousin could respond, the tall, thin woman returned to the outer room. “How may I help you?” She peered over her spectacles at the three of them.

  “Is there any possibility I could sit for a photograph today?” Sophie inquired.

  “Today?” Amanda gasped. “You want us to wait, when it’s—”

  Amanda’s diatribe came to a halt when the older woman cleared her throat. “I’ve completed my scheduled appointments, so I could take you now, if you’d like.” The photographer looked at Amanda. “If you’re willing to wait?”

  Amanda glanced at Fanny, who bobbed her head in agreement. “We’ve nothing else to do, Amanda. Besides, it’s stopped snowing. I’ll tell Maurice he can come inside and wait with us.”

  While her cousins continued to discuss the carriage driver, Sophie followed the woman into an adjacent room. The photographer arranged the room and the lighting to her satisfaction. “So I understand you want several poses. Usually I only do that when numerous family members are involved.”

  Sophie nodded. “Yes, I need more than one to choose from.”

  The woman smiled. “Very well.” She sounded as though she were indulging a small child.


  With each pose, she directed Sophie to smile, tip her chin, or cock her head to the side. Although the photographer didn’t appear overly pleased with Sophie’s performance during the process, once they’d completed the sitting, she declared the pictures would be excellent.

  “You’ll have a difficult time deciding exactly which one you want,” she remarked when they returned to the outer office.

  Maurice stood inside the front door while Fanny and Amanda sat near the front window flipping through a photograph sample book. “If you’re ready, we can go shopping for a picture frame,” Sophie said.

  “If we’re ready?” Amanda buttoned her double-breasted wool coat and brushed the fox trim into place. She motioned to Maurice, and the four of them returned to the waiting carriage.

  “Do you think the pictures will be to your liking?” Fanny excitedly inquired. “I do wish I had a photograph of Michael to keep by my bedside.” She stared out the carriage window. “He must be so very cold,” she mused before turning back toward Sophie.

  Sophie scooted closer to Fanny and grasped her gloved hand. “I’m certain Michael is fine. After years of living on Broadmoor Island through the winter, he’s used to cold conditions. Perhaps you should consider having a photograph made of you for Michael.”

  Fanny shook her head. “My hope is that he will return home and we’ll be married by June. I don’t even know if a photograph would reach him before he leaves the Yukon. The mail moves slowly and is sometimes lost. I never even know if he’s received my letters.”

  They stopped at the mercantile and assured Maurice they wouldn’t be there for long, but Sophie doubted the driver believed them. Their shopping trips sometimes continued for hours.

  12

  After several stops to examine the latest fabrics and lace, the three Broadmoor cousins headed off in search of the perfect photograph frame. “I believe silver would be nice, don’t you think?” Sophie inquired.

  Fanny shrugged; Amanda appeared noncommittal. “I’m not certain. Let’s see what they have before you set your mind upon something,” her older cousin replied. “Oh, look at these brooches.” Amanda picked up one of the pins. “This is quite lovely, don’t you think?”

  “Personally, I prefer this one.”

  Amanda wheeled around. “Dr. Carstead!”

  He grinned. “Still looking forward to working with me? Or have you decided shopping is more to your liking?”

  Amanda’s smile vanished. “It appears you, too, enjoy shopping. Does that mean you are neglecting your patients?”

  The question appeared to fluster the doctor. His face actually flushed a bit as he stammered to answer. “I . . . ah . . . I never . . . neglect my patients.”

  Sophie elbowed Amanda and nodded toward the west side of the store. “Fanny and I are going to look at picture frames. Come join us when you’ve finished visiting with Dr. Carstead.”

  Without giving her any opportunity to object, the two of them hurried off. Sophie rounded one of the large pilasters, and while Fanny hovered behind her, she peeked around the column and watched her older cousin. She glanced over her shoulder. “They’re still talking.” Turning back, she continued to observe the twosome. “She’s smiling. He is, too,” she reported. “I think Amanda may like him more than she’s indicated. And he is very nice looking—although he looks to be even older than my Wesley. Still, they’d make a nice couple, don’t you think?”

  “Do come along. We shouldn’t be spying on them.” Fanny yanked on her cousin’s coat.

  “We’re not really spying. I mean they’re standing right there in the middle of the store. Look at his rich brown hair. It’s a perfect contrast to Amanda’s blond.”

  Fanny looked around the pilaster. “He certainly is tall.”

  “Yes. I think that works well for Amanda. They seem very nicely suited. Of course Uncle Jonas would never approve of her marrying a doctor.”

  Fanny shook her head. “Enough of this.” She pulled Sophie along with her. “No one is talking about marriage. In fact, I don’t think Amanda likes him in the least. It’s his medical degree that interests her. If she can increase her knowledge before she goes off to school, it will help her immensely. Even though women are admitted to medical school, the instructors still consider female students to be inferior. At least that’s what Amanda says.” Fanny looped arms with Sophie, and the two of them continued through the store. “Besides, I don’t think Amanda is even considering marriage.”

  “Bah! Every woman considers marriage. Amanda may be consumed with thoughts of this cause or that, but eventually she’ll want a husband. After all, you and I will both be married, and it would be awkward if she were to remain single.”

  “Not necessarily,” Fanny said, shaking her head. “Not everyone is meant for marriage.”

  “Maybe not, but when you look like Amanda, it can’t be helped. She’ll marry. And why not marry a man who shares the same interest? A doctor would be perfect. He’ll always have employment, and if she gets ill, he can fix her with a cure.”

  Fanny laughed. “Sounds like you’ve got it all planned out.”

  Sophie glanced over her shoulder but could no longer see Amanda and the doctor. “I don’t have it planned, but it would please me greatly to see Amanda as happy as we are.”

  Fanny nodded. “Yes. That would please me, too. Maybe we could have a triple wedding when Michael comes home next summer.”

  “Oh goodness, I don’t intend to wait that long,” Sophie declared.

  “But you must. Even if you break with society and become engaged right away, you have to wait at least that long before marrying. A year, or two would be even better.”

  Sophie yanked her to a halt and pointed across several glasstopped counters. “Over there. I see picture frames.” She didn’t give her cousin time to object. This time she was the one tugging on Fanny’s sleeve.

  “You’re purposely trying to change the subject.”

  Sophie looked at her and smiled. “Yes. Yes I am. Now be a dear and let me. Oh, look at that one.” She pointed to a frame that sat nestled in a piece of red velvet inside the glass case. “Isn’t it lovely?”

  Fanny wrinkled her nose. “Not for a man. These are all much too fancy. Perhaps you should simply purchase a small bronze easel to hold the picture. The photographer will insert the picture in a simple cardboard frame, won’t she? I think an easel would prove more practical.”

  Sophie was making her purchase when Amanda joined them some time later, a faint blush pinking her cheeks. “He’s awfully handsome,” Sophie said.

  “Who?” Amanda asked, arching her brows.

  Fanny and Sophie giggled. “You know who!” Sophie nudged Amanda and winked. “Dr. Carstead. I believe you’re just like Fanny and me: you’re falling in love.”

  “That’s absolutely absurd. He’s quite ancient, much too old for me. Not only that, he is arrogant, proud, pigheaded, and lacks civility. In addition, he—”

  “I didn’t realize you’d made note of all my many attributes, Miss Broadmoor. Now I’ve completely forgotten what it was I came to say. I suppose it’s my old age and all.” Dr. Carstead touched his forehead in a mock salute, said, “Good day, ladies,” and walked off.

  “Why didn’t you tell me he was approaching?” Amanda hissed.

  “Why should we have warned you?” Fanny asked. “If you don’t care for him, what difference does it make?”

  “I’ll be working with him every day, so it does matter.” The clerk was passing Sophie’s package across the counter. “If you’re done with your shopping, let’s go. I’ve endured enough embarrassment for one day.”

  Maurice was pacing in front of the mercantile when they stepped outside. He sighed deeply, his breath creating a puff of white air in front of his face. “I thought you would never return.” He pointed to the clock that hung above the doorway to the store. “I am supposed to be at the train station to pick up Mr. Hedrick. We must depart now or we will be late.”

  “But I w
ant to go home,” Amanda argued.

  Sophie grasped her by the arm and pulled her toward the carriage. “Didn’t you hear Maurice? I don’t want Wesley to think he isn’t welcome. We must all three go to greet him.”

  They arrived at the station as the passengers were disembarking the train. Her cousins elected to remain behind, but Sophie hurried after Maurice toward the platform. When she finally spotted Wesley, she waved her handkerchief overhead. He didn’t appear concerned that no one had been waiting when he stepped down from the train. Then again, she shouldn’t have worried. Wesley was accustomed to traveling. If no one had appeared at the station, he would have likely hailed a carriage and come to the house.

  Sophie rushed toward him. She’d expected a warm embrace, but when she drew near, he held her at arm’s length. When she frowned, he whispered, “I don’t want you to be the topic of any gossip.” He motioned toward his baggage. With his usual deftness, Maurice grabbed the luggage from one of the heavy wood and metal carts and led them back inside the station. Fanny and Amanda were waiting near the front doors and greeted him warmly, although Sophie thought his return greeting somewhat stiff and formal.

  He’s likely weary from traveling, she told herself. Besides, he doesn’t know them well and is certain to feel somewhat uncomfortable surrounded by three young ladies. The carriage ride home was awkward. Although Sophie did her best to act the perfect hostess, the conversation was stilted and lacking. Both of her cousins thought Wesley too old for her. And though Sophie disagreed, she worried Wesley might concur if she didn’t impress him with her maturity. She was, however, thankful when the carriage ride ended.

  “I do hope you’ll find this a memorable Christmas,” she whispered as he helped her out of the carriage.

  He returned her smile. “I’m sure it will be even more than I could hope for.”

  Wesley had no more than uttered the words when they were bombarded with a hail of snowballs from the upper balcony of the house. Fanny and Amanda shrieked and hastened toward the house. Forgetting her vow to remain mature throughout Wesley’s visit, Sophie grabbed a handful of snow and lobbed a snowball toward George and Jefferson. She knew she’d met with success when Jefferson let out a yelp. Encouraged by her triumph, she grabbed another handful of snow and worked it between her gloved hands.

 

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