The Christmas season was always busy at the vicarage, and with December approaching fast, there was much to be done. Pine needed to be gathered for the church decorations, biscuits had to be baked, bags of chestnuts filled, and jams readied for the baskets going to poor families in the area. Each would also receive a smoked hen this year, thanks to Sophia’s charity efforts.
She selected one of the hens from the crate in which it had been delivered, wrapped it in brown paper, and tied a red ribbon around it. After finishing off with a neat bow she placed the hen in a basket. A tin filled with ginger biscuits and shortbread was placed on top along with a jar filled with cherry preserves. The bag of chestnuts, bearing a label that read, to the Richmond Family with best wishes for a happy holiday season, was added last, even though Sophia wasn’t sure they’d be able to read it.
“Here’s the final tray of biscuits for you,” Mrs. Fenmore said as she bustled into the pantry where Sophia worked. She set the tray on an empty shelf. “All I have to do now is roast the last chestnuts. How are you coming along in here, my dear?”
“Pretty well. I’m thinking I ought to start distributing the baskets that are ready. The remaining hens can be stored in the shed until later.”
“I agree. With the temperatures below freezing, they’ll keep best out there.” Mrs. Fenmore smiled. “Once we’ve gotten this done, we can start planning for your big day. I’m thinking a visit to Audrey’s Couture on High Street might be in order. The seamstresses there did an excellent job on Amy Larkin’s wedding gown in the spring.”
“Thank you,” Sophia said, a little overcome by her adoptive mother’s enthusiasm, “but I can easily modify one of the dresses I already own. There’s really no need to purchase a new one.”
“Pish. You’re like the daughter I never had and you’re marrying my only child. Of course I plan to help make the day as special for you as possible, starting with the gown. I won’t take no for an answer.” She shook her finger at Sophia before she turned away and disappeared back to the kitchen.
Air left Sophia’s lungs on a long exhalation. She very much feared Mr. Fenmore and his wife were far more excited about the upcoming wedding than she or Edward would ever be. And this bothered her. More so because thoughts of Jack kept filling her head. No matter how much she tried, she could not forget the effect his nearness had wrought on her during dinner at Eastgate Abbey five days earlier. He’d not been kind, but that didn’t seem to stop her treacherous body from wanting. A flutter caught hold of her heart, increasing in strength as the conversation she’d had with Edward later resurfaced.
She gripped the edge of the counter and stared at the baskets she had completed that morning, which now totaled six. Although she would never allow herself be swept away by Jack while she was engaged to another, having Edward’s permission had caused all manner of indecent thoughts to swamp her brain. They’d invaded her dreams, leaving her breathless when she woke.
“Madness.”
All she could do was pray it would stop once she spoke her vows. Jack wasn’t her friend anymore. Perhaps he never had been. Maybe all she’d ever been to him was a pesky child. She was no longer sure. Everything had become such a muddle. She’d thought she understood him once, but then… Then she’d learned of all the women sauntering in and out of his life, and while she’d not believed a word until it had been confirmed, she’d been jealous. Mostly because she’d known deep inside that she would never stand a chance of gaining his notice. Not in the way she wanted.
She still hadn’t. All she was to him now was a lost opportunity. He didn’t want a future with her, so even if he cared for her in some small way on account of their shared history, anything more than a bit of fun would always be impossible.
And why was she even having these foolish musings?
Perhaps because Kaitlin and Felicity had called on her two days ago to inform her that Jack had been in a constant state of pique ever since that dinner. Because they believed she was to blame. According to what they’d said, he’d made a hash of the hunt he’d invited the guests to attend, returning empty handed after missing three times and frightening off the prey. From there, things had apparently gotten worse. He’d accused Mr. Madsen of cheating at cards, had complained about the food not being up to par – resulting in a massive row below stairs – and insisted Eastgate was a damp and dreary place he ought to have stayed away from.
“He’s like a dark cloud hanging over the house and spoiling everyone’s fun,” Kaitlin complained.
“I don’t understand,” Sophia said. “Jack was always so sporting. He used to be the one who made everyone laugh.” He’d always cheered her up. When she’d scraped her knee, he’d joked about her looking like a hardened soldier, upon which he’d offered a sweet.
Felicity harrumphed. “I don’t believe he’s ever been denied anything before, and now he’s not just being denied but realizing he can’t have something he never knew he wanted.”
“Whatever are you going on about?” Sophia asked.
Kaitlin sighed. “You’re driving our brother round the bend, Sophia.”
“But I’m not even there,” she’d protested.
Sophia shook her head to free her mind from the words she’d exchanged with her friends and started bundling up. It was best if she thought of something else, like the baskets she had to deliver.
Grabbing two of them, she set off for the Bakers and the Walkers since they lived closest. Her breath fogged the air, but the fur-trimmed winter hat she wore along with a pair of thick woolen mittens helped keep her warm. Both families showed appreciation for her visit. They invited her in and offered her tea, then chatted with her for a good fifteen minutes until she took her leave.
When she returned to the vicarage, she glanced at the hallway clock. It was almost two in the afternoon. If she hurried, she could reach the Richmonds by half past and the Scotts by three, leaving her just enough time to make the final deliveries of the day before it got dark.
Collecting the baskets, she headed back out, and made her way toward the northbound road at a brisk pace. Grey clouds were beginning to gather, but the Richmonds’ cottage was only one and a half miles away, the home belonging to the Scotts just slightly farther, provided she cut across some of the fields. No doubt she’d return before the weather grew hostile.
“Miss Fenmore,” Mrs. Richmond proclaimed when Sophia showed up at her first destination. “Please do come in.”
Sophia smiled and stepped across the threshold.
“I’m sorry we’ve not much to offer,” Mrs. Richmond said while cradling her youngest son on her hip. “We ran out of tea yesterday and with the two eldest sick with a nasty cold and the roof in need of repair, neither my husband nor I have managed to get to Town since Wednesday.”
“No need for apologies,” Sophia said. She followed Mrs. Richmond into the parlor where one of her younger daughters busied herself with some mending. “What’s wrong with your roof exactly?”
Mrs. Richmond sighed. “Looks like some of the rafters have rotted through. When it rained a few days ago, part of it collapsed. Mr. Richmond’s up there now attempting to fix it with Lord Hawthorne’s help. They’re in the attic.”
Sophia froze. Jack was here? She’d not noticed a horse or a carriage when she’ arrived, but maybe they’d been taken around to the back. She wondered how to proceed and quickly made her decision. Meeting Jack would be awkward, so it was best if she could avoid him completely.
She set her basket on a table. “I hope this will help the situation in some small way, Mrs. Richmond, and please don’t trouble yourself about the tea. I don’t have time to stay anyway since I’ve yet to reach the Scotts’ and run two more errands before it gets dark.” She paused, then said, “I’ll send some honey over tomorrow along with some lemons. That ought to help your children get better.”
“Thank you ever so much,” Mrs. Richmond said, her voice cracking. “You’re so very kind.”
Sophia smiled and turned for the door, reaching it just in time to hear footsteps on the stairs. She hastened across the tiny hallway, desperate to escape before Jack found her. The basket she held for the Scotts caught the railing. A voice, Mr. Richmond’s no doubt, said, “I hardly know how to thank you, my lord.”
“I’m sure I can think of something.”
Sophia recognized Jack’s low timbre and frowned. If he meant to take advantage of these people she’d—
“Help me fix the broken axel on my carriage and I’d say we’re even.”
Sophia took a step back. A pair of muddied clogs and a pair of expensive boots came into view. Her stomach twisted with the awareness of having misjudged Jack. He’d taken time out of his day to help mend a broken roof, and all he wanted as payment was help in return.
Nevertheless, she reached for the handle behind her. She needed to think, get her muddled thoughts in order. The way he’d acted toward her at Eastgate – the things he’d said - had clearly skewed her opinion of him. Which wasn’t really fair since he’d always been a good person. She’d loved him for a good reason. And yet, she had no wish to encounter him now, so she turned, hoping to rush out the door before he saw her.
“Sophia?”
She muttered a curse and turned, pasting a smile on her face as she did so. “Lord Hawthorne. What a coincidence.”
His gaze, dark and intense, captured hers. “I prefer to think of it as serendipitous.”
Before she had a chance to comment, he told Mr. Richmond, “I shall return tomorrow with the wood and shingles you need. The temporary boards and support posts we’ve just installed should hold until then, even if it rains.”
Mr. Richmond thanked him and gave Sophia his full attention. “Miss Fenmore. You’re most welcome.”
“She brought us a lovely holiday basket,” Mrs. Richmond told her husband from the parlor doorway.
“Our thanks,” Mr. Richmond said. “Your generosity knows no bounds, does it, Miss Fenmore?”
Flustered, Sophia averted her gaze as heat crept into her cheeks. “I’ll stop by again tomorrow as promised. Good bye, Mrs. Richmond. Mr. Richmond. Lord Hawthorne.”
She accidentally stubbed her toes on the door and tripped in her haste to be gone. Once outside, she took a deep breath and forced her legs into motion. If she hurried, then maybe, just maybe, she might be lucky enough to disappear from sight before Jack emerged from the cottage.
Clutching the basket meant for the Scotts, she broke into a near run, desperate to get away before he saw the direction in which she headed.
Why she was so intent on escape, she wasn’t quite sure. Everything she’d been feeling for six long years, since she’d first become aware of the love she harbored for Jack, was spinning around inside her. Before his return last week, she’d managed to suppress it, to push it down and convince herself it was just a silly infatuation. That it no longer existed.
But she was older now and the response he’d managed to coax from her during dinner terrified her. In spite of his words and the anger they’d caused, he’d made her want something new and different – something that made her long for his touch. The sensation was stronger than the innocent admiration she’d had for him as a child, more powerful than the love he’d instilled in her heart as she’d grown older, a force so intense it threatened to draw her to him no matter how much she resisted the pull.
So she rushed across the road and into the field before he could catch her, tripping and stumbling due to the steep descent.
“Sophia!”
Her breath hitched but she kept going, adding distance as fast as she could even though the pounding of hooves rumbled through the ground to signal his rapid approach.
Her foot slipped and she suddenly fell, skidding through the dry grass until she lost her balance completely.
“Hell and damnation.” Jack landed beside her, the reins from his horse caught in one hand as he crouched down and reached for her elbow. Warm fingers curled around her arm. “Are you all right?”
She blinked, slightly dazed, and glanced at him.
A frown of concern marred his forehead.
“I’m fine.” She yanked herself free and pushed to her feet, ignoring the hand he offered as much as the pleasure she’d found in his touch.
He straightened and as he did so, his frown deepened. When he spoke, his voice was hard, accusatory. “Why would you run from me like that?”
“I wasn’t running from you,” she lied, unwilling to try and explain her confusion or the conflicting emotions he forced upon her. It would be a futile effort when she barely understood them herself, and besides, she had no wish to reveal the power he held over her.
“No?” He glared at her as if she’d done something wrong when he was the one who hadn’t written or come to visit for nearly four years.
Setting her jaw she grabbed her basket and recommenced walking. “I’ve deliveries to make before it gets dark. Judging from those clouds, it may even start to snow soon. That is why I was hurrying. My actions have nothing to do with you.”
“So you’re not trying to avoid me?” he asked, falling into step beside her while pulling his horse along with him.
“Why would I do that?”
There was a pause and then he said, “I thought perhaps my comments the other evening about you and Edward upset you. I’m sorry if that’s the case but my sisters didn’t warn me. They never even told me you’d be there. So I was surprised, that’s all.”
She glanced at him, at his tight expression. “You spoke your mind as usual and since that’s something I’ve always liked about you, it would be wrong of me to find fault with it when your view disagrees with mine.”
“I just don’t see you being happy with him, Sophia.” He looked her squarely in the eye for a second before turning his gaze away, but it was enough for her to glimpse the incomprehension he felt with regard to her engagement.
“Why not?” she asked. “We’ve known each other most of our lives, have shared every up and down, and understand each other well enough for me to be certain we’ll always be able to solve our differences.”
“That’s not enough.”
“How can you say that?” Once again his comment poked at her doubts and put her on edge. “Edward is easy for me to talk to. With him I always know what to expect.”
“In other words,” Jack remarked, “he’s the safe option.”
“No,” she told him hotly, “he is the only option. No one else has ever asked and I cannot afford to sit and wait for them to do so.”
“And because of this, you’ve decided to settle.”
God, how she wanted to swing her basket at his head, throw its contents at him until he ducked away or better yet, ran. “Edward’s a good man, Jack. The very finest, in fact. And as his friend – as my friend – your lack of support confounds me.”
“Maybe it is the very friendship you speak of that prompts me to say what no one else will, Sophia. You and Edward are wrong for each other. You will always be wrong for each other.” His voice grew in strength, his eyes flashing with stormy emotion while they both increased their speed as if each meant to outpace the other. “No matter how easy or practical marrying him may be, he will never be able to give you what you need just as you will never give him what he needs.”
She halted so she could glare at him properly. “What are you talking about?”
“You seek adventure while he’s always been the careful sort. As children, you were the one who suggested building a raft for the lake. Edward tried to talk you out of it because he believed a raft built by children would lead to disaster.”
In the end, Jack had helped her fulfill her vision while Edward, Felicity, and Kaitlin busied themselves with a game of cards. She placed her free hand on her hip. “There’s nothing wrong with being cautious. In fact, I’d say it will serve me well if my husband is able to temper my spirit a little.”
“Edward won’t temper it, though,” Jack told her. “That’s the problem. He’ll stifle you completely.”
She shook her head. “You’re mistaken.”
“Am I?” When she didn’t comment, he said, “You always liked to climb trees and build forts. He didn’t. When you suggested tying a rope to one of the branches hanging over the lake so we could launch ourselves into the water, he said it was time to go home. He is serious while you are not. If given the choice, he would rather stay home reading a book than join in a horse race or…or visit a tavern with friends.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being responsible.”
“Of course not, but Edward is like an octogenarian in a young body. He’s always been that way. There’s no playfulness about him the way there is with you.”
“Perhaps not,” she agreed. It was true Edward was stuffy and always more serious than she could ever be. “But he is dependable, which is more than I can say about you.”
“What?”
“How many times did I write you over the last four years?” When he opened his mouth she said, “Once a week, Jack. And you never wrote back. Never mind the fact that you stayed away. Not once did you come to visit even though London is not so terribly far.”
“You never came to see me either,” he countered.
“How could I? An unmarried woman does not go to London alone. To suggest that doing so was even an option is utter nonsense as well you know. But at least I wrote.” She pressed her fist to her breast and leaned toward him. “I wrote you, Jack. And you didn’t respond.”