The next morning, Sophia sat downstairs, nibbling at toast slathered with butter and jam and sipping tea. She was still in a fog from the previous night. She was torn between wanting to ask Bridget ’s advice in regard to what had happened and keeping it to herself. When a knock sounded on the door, her stomach did a flip even though she knew it was most likely Bridget.
“Lady St. Clair, my lady.”
“Thank you, Hoskins.”
“So?” Bridget asked upon entering the room.
“Shall we go?” Sophia asked, standing.
“I don’t think so. I want to know what happened. So sit and tell me everything.” Bridget poured herself a cup of tea, put the perfect amount of cream and sugar in it, and stirred while looking expectantly at Sophia. “You might as well tell me. I saw him arrive by coach and leave by foot hours later.”
“Do you not have anything better to do than spy on me?” Sophia asked indignantly.
“Gus brought work home last night. After he spent a half hour lecturing me, he worked with me in his sights so I wouldn’t do anything harmful. His words, not mine.”
“He’s worried about you.”
“I keep reminding myself that every time I want to strangle him.”
“So you watched the goings on at my house for entertainment?”
“I was just looking out the window.”
“Where is Lillian?”
“Still not feeling well.”
“Tell me something. What is the use of having a companion if she never accompanies you anywhere?”
“Sophia, I’ve never heard you be deliberately cruel before,” Bridget said, “or so cross.”
“I am sorry. Truly, but I know we would not be having this conversation if she were here, and I really do not wish to talk about it.”
Bridget gave her friend a guilt-ridden look.
“Bridget Ann Patterson St. Clair. Tell me you did not stoop so low as to—”
“What?” Bridget asked.
“You did not intentionally make Lillian ill so that you could question me about Carson.”
“Not exactly,” Bridget said, a look of guilt on her face.
“What did you do exactly?”
“I didn’t mean to. Yesterday, when I told her we were going to St. Hilda’s to pick up the children, well, Lillian had an attack. I thought she was going to faint dead away. I had to help her sit and push her head between her knees.”
“And I thought she was doing better.”
“Apparently not.”
“I wish she would talk to someone about what happened.”
“Who?” Bridget queried.
“One of us. Gus. Sister Mary Katherine. I do not know, but I think she would feel better if she shared what happened and quit locking it inside.”
“Well, I don’t think that will happen anytime soon. So, I told her if she returned to her room, I would be back long before Gus returned home from work and he need never know.”
“And that worked out well for you, did it not?”
Bridget just shrugged.
“You are taking quite a risk at angering your husband.”
“What is life worth if we don’t take risks?” Bridget countered.
“You know, you are exactly right, Bridget. Come, there are children waiting to visit the fair.” Sophia drank down the rest of her cooled tea and retrieved Stefano’s greatcoat that she had worn yesterday. It was heavy, but warm, and would do the trick until she could replace the cloak she had given to Caroline. Unfortunately, it still reeked of his expensive, overpowering cologne. Caroline had tried to return her cloak, but Sophia had refused, insisting the young woman keep it until she could have her coat mended and her arm healed.
Bridget quickly downed the rest of her tea and joined Sophia as she headed to the coach. Inside, Sophia looked at her friend and knew immediately she never should have made eye contact.
“So?” When Sophia hesitated, Bridget said, “We have to talk about something until we arrive at St. Hilda’s, and it might as well be your evening with Carson.”
Silence.
“All right. I suppose I can share with you how Gus and I usually share our—”
“Bridget!”
“Then tell me,” Bridget coaxed. “All I really want to know is if you still have feelings for one another.”
“We had dinner together,” Sophia supplied.
“And?”
“Bridget, it was the best meal I have eaten in my entire life.”
“What was it?”
“Cottage pie.”
“Cottage pie?” Bridget asked wrinkling her nose. “There is nothing fancy about that.”
“I know. It is ridiculous, is it not, that something so plain could taste so wonderful? In fact, Carson told me I ate two helpings.”
“Good. You’re much too thin.”
“That is what he said.”
“Well, it’s true. A strong wind could come off the Channel and carry you right off. What else happened?”
“We talked.”
“About?”
“Everything and nothing—the fair, his practice, St. Hilda’s. We talked about the past and the present. I think we talked about the future.”
“What do you mean you think you talked about the future?”
“I am just not sure. We confessed our love to one another.”
“Yes?” Bridget asked excitedly.
“We kissed, and we talked some more, and I told him I wanted to live life on my terms and then…”
“Yes?”
“He told me he had to think and make plans.”
“And?”
“He kissed me again, and then he left.”
“What?” Bridget asked, slumping back against the squab.
“You look as confused as I feel, and I was actually present last night.”
“Let me understand this, and keep in mind I am making some assumptions. The two of you were alone. You talked which led to kissing. That in turn led to you offering yourself to him…”
“Yes,” Sophia muttered, turning red and burying her face in her hands.
“I would have done the same thing. Correction, I did the same thing with Gus.”
“Did Gus announce he had to make plans then leave you alone?”
“Carson actually did that?”
“Yes,” Sophia mumbled into her hands.
“He’s digging in as Gus did. He’s trying to be honorable.”
“What did you do?”
“I drank too much and passed out on Gus’s bed without any clothes on.”
“Bridget!”
“I had a bad night.”
“What happened when you woke up?”
“Let’s just say it isn’t exactly how one wants to be caught by their father,” she said with a shrug.
“Oh, Bridget…”
“I’m not sorry it happened. I love Gus, and though we have had some difficult times after that moment, I would not have traded it for the world. Even after I found out who he really was.”
“Umm, is there a possibility a woman can be too forward with a man?” Sophia asked her friend.
“Sophia Elizabeth Russo, you did not tell me everything,” Bridget accused. “What else happened last night?”
“Oh, look, we have arrived!” Sophia exclaimed, thankful to have their conversation come to an end.
“Don’t worry, we’ll come up with a plan,” Bridget said and patted her leg as the coach pulled to a stop in front of St. Hilda’s. “You just have to be mentally and emotionally stronger than he is.”
“Bridget,” Sophia groaned as her friend chuckled.
Once they arrived at the fair, the women helped the children out of the coach and directed them to the iced over river.
“Stay close,” Sophia instructed the children. The group moved through the activities with exuberance. They started down a new row and Sophia trailed behind, hoping to catch a glimpse of Carson. She watched the children as they gathered to watch a man performing magic tricks. She heard her name and looked around. Her heart soared when she spied Carson farther down the aisle. She could tell he must have just left the medical area and was moving her direction. She smiled and waved at him, and he returned the greeting.
Suddenly, something in the air shifted and a chill washed through Sophia. It almost felt like a premonition that something bad was going to happen. She had felt this way right before she had received word that Stefano had been killed. She looked around her and counted the heads of all the children from St. Hilda’s and breathed out a sigh of relief that they were all present and accounted for.
A woman’s scream pierced the air. Sophia jerked her head toward the sound and followed the woman’s panicked expression. There was a small child, no more than three or four years of age, chasing a ball. He was headed towards the Thin Ice signs that had been posted. The woman was too far away and was pushing a baby’s pram. No one else was close. Seeing no other option, Sophia lifted her skirts and ran as fast as she could.
“Ball stop!” she heard the little boy order over and over. In two or three teetering steps, he would be past the signs and in danger of falling through the ice.
She did a trick she, Bridget, and Grayson had done as children when there were patches of ice. She stiffened her legs, quit running, and allowed her momentum to slide her across the ice. It was working because she was gaining speed and should intercept the little boy before he ran foul of danger.
“Sophia! No!”
Carson’s words drifted to her, but it was too late. She continued sliding, reached out a hand, grabbed the little boy’s arm, and tugged as hard as she could. He went flying backwards to safety, but the force propelled her the opposite direction and past the signs. Unable to stop, she twisted so that she would break through the ice with her back. She caught a glimpse of the mother pulling the little boy into her arms just as she landed hard on the ice. Her eyes widened as she realized she had not plunged into the frigid water.
No sooner had the thought crossed her mind when the cracking sound reached her ears.
“Sophia! Hold on!” Carson called.
“Stay back!” she ordered.
“We’re going to save you!”
“It’s too late. Remember, I love you!” she called back at him seconds before she plunged into the freezing water. She closed her eyes on hearing her name ripped from Carson’s throat and the icy water shrouded her from the world.
Carson’s heart contracted painfully as he watched Sophia disappear below the ice.
“Sophia!”
He reached out and grabbed Bridget’s arm before she could pass him and enter the dangerous territory herself. “Stay back,” he growled at his long-time friend.
“But—”
“Stay! Back!” he roared at her. If he had had time to reflect, he would have found it quite hilarious that Bridget Patterson St. Clair had been struck mute even for a few moments, but truth be told, he didn’t care one bit. His greatest concern was getting Sophia out of that freezing water as fast as possible.
Carson looked out over the ice where she had fallen through and started sending up a litany of prayers. He gave a sigh of relief when her head popped up above the water, but just as quickly concern coursed through him. She was struggling to keep her head above the water and could not seem to find enough purchase on the nearby ice to hold on.
“We have to do something, fast. She’s weakening,” he yelled at whoever would listen as he watched her disappear below the surface once more.
“We’ll fetch her,” a wiry little man appeared at his side. Another man of similar stature stood next to him. “She’s not the first one to fall through the ice this week.”
“She’s the one I care about. Now, hurry! Please,” he added as an afterthought. “Sophia! Hold on just a bit longer. Help is coming!” He watched impotently as her head dipped below the surface once more. This time it took longer for her to bob into view. He could tell she was weakening. He feared if she disappeared below the surface once more—
“Now!”
A yell thankfully intruded on his thoughts. He watched as the two men were pushed out over the spidering ice on what looked like sleds. They were on their knees and each had a rope in their hand. There was also a rope that led to two rather large men standing well behind Carson. Bridget took a step and stood beside him. She gripped his arm tightly, but he barely felt it.
“What’s going on?” a new voice asked. “I was caught up on my work and went home to surprise you. Lillian said you had left once again. Bridget, you need to take care of yourself and rest. At least today will be the last day for the fair. They say the ice is becoming too thin.”
Carson vaguely heard Bridget make a strangled sound.
“Would one of you tell me what’s going on?” Gus asked.
“Sophia,” Bridget managed and pointed where the men on sleds were.
“Was she not reading the bloody signs?” Gus demanded.
“She saved a child,” Carson muttered through bloodless lips. Just as she was about to go under again, a rope was wrapped around her and she was being dragged through the water. Once the men were on sturdier ice, they worked together to pull her out of the freezing water. “She’s out!” Carson needlessly announced as a cheer went up around them. He waited impatiently for the men to bring her to safety. He didn’t say how much danger she was still facing. He knew it was very possible that despite the fact she had been freed from the icy water that they could still lose her. Unwilling to wait any longer, he met the men.
“Her lips are blue. Is she breathing?” Bridget asked, her voice shaking.
“I can’t bloody tell!” Carson growled.
“What?”
He quickly glanced over his shoulder and saw the color drain from Bridget’s face. “Dammit, I don’t need another patient. Sit down before you fall down,” Carson ordered Bridget before turning his attention back to Sophia. Her skin and clothes were turning to ice before his eyes. He started wrestling with her clothes, knowing he had to get them off of her before they adhered to her skin and lowered her temperature more than it was.
“I’m fine. What are you doing?” Bridget asked Carson.
“I have to get her out of these freezing clothes.” Ice crystals were already forming on her clothes, in her hair, and on her cheeks.
“But she needs privacy,” Bridget inanely said.
“Privacy be damned. I’m trying to save her bloody life,” Carson argued as he ripped apart first her stiff, heavy coat and then her dress. Buttons popped off like stray bullets. “Knife! I need a bloody knife! Now!” No sooner had he said the words than one was floating in front of him. He grabbed it and frantically worked at cutting her free of the sleeves of both garments.
“I’ll find a hack,” Gus announced before disappearing.
“Do what you need to, sir,” a man said.
Carson glanced up to see people had formed a circle around him and Sophia, their backs to them, to protect her from prying eyes. In that moment, pride swelled in his chest for his adopted home. Carson returned his concentration on Sophia and worked quickly, freeing her of her stiff, freezing garments. He went to work on her boots, but found another man working with a hooked knife to free her of those. Carson removed his greatcoat, removed the rest of Sophia’s undergarments until she was completely bare, and wrapped her up tight in the coat.
When she was free of the boots, he lifted her up in his arms and broke through the circle. “Thank you,” he called behind him.
Cries of “Good luck”, “Prayers for the lady”, and “Blessings” chased him as he ran as fast as he dared carrying his precious burden. She had yet to regain consciousness and her breathing was sluggish and shallow. One would have been worrisome, but paired they were downright terrifying. As Carson reached the bank, he heard his name called from the street level somewhere. After breeching the incline he saw Gus waving at him, standing by a hack. He noticed Bridget standing beside him with a group of children. All of them in various forms of distress, some crying.
“I need my medical bag,” he said as he approached the hack.
“Johnny,” Bridget said, “run and fetch it.”
“Yes, ma’am!” the boy said and rushed off.
“We’ll bring it by,” Gus said. “Where are you taking her?”
“Take her to her house, Carson. She has more servants to help you.” Bridget must have seen the hesitation on his face because she added, “Please.”
“Fine,” he conceded.
“We’ll be along shortly,” Bridget informed him stubbornly.
He started to tell her no, but knew that Sophia would want Bridget near her. Carson wanted to argue when Gus took Sophia from him, but sighed in relief when he was in the coach and she was being passed up to him once more. As the door shut and the coach moved from a sedate walk to a fast clip, he held Sophia against him. He bit the fingers of his gloves and tugged until his hand was free. He worked his hand in the opening of the coat and gently, but firmly chaffed her cold back. A soft moan escaped her and he could faintly feel her try to get away from the pain of his hand on her skin.
“Hang on, sweetheart. I need you to fight for me…for us. You have to live, because after I left last night I came up with a plan. I stayed awake all night thinking about us and the kisses we shared. I thought about our past. I want us to be together now, to hell with society and mourning for a man who didn’t love you. Damn our reputations. I am nothing without you. I love you, dammit! Just stay with me and when you’re better I’ll share my plan with you. But first, you must get better. Do you hear me, Soph? Answer me, please.”
The coach came to an abrupt stop and the door flew open to reveal the driver.
“Let me take ‘er, sir.”
Reluctantly, Carson passed her over to the driver as he climbed out, but then took her back as soon as his feet touched the ground.
“Rouse the staff for me.”
“Aye, sir.”
The man ran to the door with Carson not far behind. When the door opened, Sophia’s butler stood there in shock for several seconds before jumping to action.
“Jane!” the man yelled as loud as he could.
“What is it, Frank? Oh, my,” Mrs. Hoskins said, when she saw the situation. “Take her upstairs. Second door on the left. Frank, pay the driver and see if you can find someone selling peat. Purchase as much as you can.
“Right away.”
“We need warming pans and flannel-wrapped bricks as fast as can be done! Robert, go up to Lady Bianchi’s bedroom and stoke the fire. It needs to be a blaze. When the peat arrives, we will add several bricks to it so the fire will burn slower and steadier.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Carson admitted he was impressed with the running of Sophia’s household. Mrs. Hoskins was doing an admirable job in a crisis. He entered Sophia’s bedroom and saw that Robert was adding coal to the fire and the room was quickly warming up. Caroline had thrown back the blankets on the bed.
“If you will have a seat, Dr. Matthews, we are just waiting for the warming pan to take the chill off the bedsheets,” Caroline said.
“Yes.” He walked to a single chair and sat down with Sophia still in his arms. When Robert would have left, he called out his name.
“Yes, Dr. Matthews?”
“Help me get these boots off and my superfine.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Here’s the warming pan,” a maid rushed into the room. She ran the pan over the mattress and thrown back bedsheets.
“That’s good. Thank you. That will be all for now,” Carson said. “You can both leave.”
“Yes, sir,” Caroline said, keeping her gaze averted.
“Is there anything else you need?” Robert asked.
“More blankets.”
“Right away,” Robert agreed.
Once they left the room, Carson stood and gently placed Sophia on the warm mattress. He used the opportunity to shuck off his breeches and his thick, woolen socks. He took off his shirt and removed his coat from around Sophia. Carson crawled onto the bed, pulled her against him, and tugged the blankets over them to form a cocoon. Her skin was so cold, and he could barely feel her breaths against his bare skin.
“Fight, sweetheart, fight.” He brushed a kiss on her forehead. “As soon as you wake and warm up, you can take a nice, hot bath and wash the smell of the Thames off. We could put rose oil in your water. Would you like to smell like roses? I think you smell wonderful no matter what…well, perhaps not right now,” he said. “Laugh for me, sweetheart. At least give me one of those crooked little smiles you save only for me. All right, I have seen you share one with Bridget before when you were plotting something.”
Silence greeted him, and her facial expression did not change in the slightest.
“I love you, sweetheart,” he whispered against her temple. “I can’t lose you now. Not like this. I shouldn’t have fought you last night. I should have let you have your wicked way with me.” He held her so tight it was as if he were trying to pull her into his very being. “Come in,” he called when a knock sounded at the door.
“Extra blankets,” Mrs. Hoskins said, carrying in a huge stack of blankets and quilts.
She alternated layers of woolen blankets and quilts until Carson thought he might suffocate, but he knew they needed to do everything in their power to get Sophia warm as quickly as possible. She took a warmed bath sheet and wrapped it around her hair and head, leaving only her pale face exposed.
“Here are the bricks, Mrs. Hoskins.” Two maids carried two pails each of warmed bricks wrapped in flannel. The housekeeper took them and methodically lifted the next to the bottom blanket, and placed them around the couple.
“Here’s the peat, Jane,” Mr. Hoskins announced breathlessly.
“Add two bricks of it to the fire, Frank. There. I will have Cook prepare some broth and tea. Perhaps a few other things, as well. You need to keep your strength up, as well, Dr. Matthews.”
“Yes, Mrs. Hoskins,” Carson said meekly. If Sophia had been conscious she would have teased him for sounding like a schoolboy being admonished by a governess.
“Is there anything else we can do?” Mr. Hoskins asked.
“Have water ready for a bath for her and then be prepared to replace the bedsheets.”
“Of course,” the Hoskins’ answered in unison.
“We will also heat more bricks for when those cool.”
“Thank you. Oh, and when the St. Clair’s arrive, send them home. Tell them they will be notified when Sophia’s condition changes. Lady St. Clair has had a traumatizing afternoon and she needs to rest.”
“Yes, sir.” Mrs. Hoskins replied and closed the door.
“We are alone and in a bed, and this is absolutely not how I thought we would be spending the time,” he whispered in Sophia’s ear, trying to ignore how she felt pressed against his body.