An Unlikely Suitor (40 page)

He laughed. “I meant here, by the sea. On the water.”

“I thought God lived in church.”

Hugh shook his head, his eyes still on the water. “I know He’s everywhere, but out there, on the waves, under a blue sky, that’s where I
feel
Him.” He looked at her. “How about you?”

Sofia had never thought much about it. God always
was
for her, yet He also always
was
a ways away, as if He were on a throne in the next room, a room where she never gained access. She extended an arm straight out from her body. “God always seems over there.”

“Over where?”

“Anywhere I’m not.”

Hugh seemed taken aback.

How could she explain? “Maybe it’s because I’ve always lived in the city, where the buildings are high and there’s only a narrow slice of sky, where colors are drab and trees nonexistent.”

“What about Central Park?”

She shrugged. “That’s as foreign a place to me as Newport.”

“Oh, the places I will show you, Sofia.”

It was her turn to be taken aback.

He noticed. “Do I shock you by being so forward?”

“I don’t know forward from backward, but yes, you’re talking far beyond our short acquaintance.”

He sat back in his chair and sighed. “I . . . I don’t know what to do with you, with the way I feel about you. I’ve never felt like this about any girl.”

Sofia’s thoughts raced to what she’d heard about him. “What about that maid? The one . . .”

“Addy?”

“The maid you . . . you . . .” She couldn’t say it aloud.

He leaned forward, his voice adamant. “I did nothing to that girl beyond exchanging a few words. If she got in the family way, people need to look elsewhere.”

Sofia believed him, and yet . . . “Then why do people say such things about you?”

He took a sip of his drink, then set it down and turned the mug this way and that. “Because I let them.”

“Why do you let them?”

“Because it’s easier to be thought of as a fool than live under the expectations of being someone who’s worthy and honorable.”

“That’s a horrible way to think.”

He shrugged, then took her hands and held them in the table space between them. “But meeting you, finding a connection with you . . . it’s made me want to be a better man. It makes me want to be worthy of you.”

She was touched and flattered, but also scared. Where could this go? Certainly no good could come from their relationship. For fool or not, he was still the heir to the Langdon fortune, and poor or not, she was still beneath him in status, education, and breeding.

“Do you want to know a secret, matey?”

“Of course.”

“When my parents think I’m out carousing, I’m actually down here, volunteering on a fishing boat. Those men teach me about the world, about life, about living.”

Her need to respond was taken away when Hugh pointed out the window. “Look there. Why is Lucy walking arm in arm with Rowena’s Edward?”

Sofia saw her sister on the sidewalk. She couldn’t see the man’s face, as he was looking down at Lucy, but by the way Lucy was leaning her head against his shoulder as they walked, there was an evident connection between them. A romance.

The man shifted.

“That’s not Edward,” Sofia said. “That’s Dante. I saw him in church.”

“It’s Edward DeWitt, I tell you.” He pushed back his chair. “I’ll go ask them to join us.”

Sofia reached across the table. “No!”

Other diners looked in their direction, and Hugh took his seat. “Why not? You’re not ashamed of me, are you?”

“Of course not, but . . .”

The list of
buts
was lengthy and complicated.

Luckily, Molly brought them their dinner, balancing three plates heaped with exotic foods.

“Here now. Let’s eat.”

Rowena paced in front of her fireplace. It was time for Morrie to have his next dose of medicine, yet she was having trouble finding the courage to go see him.

“But I promised the doctor I’d look after him,” she said as she paced toward her bedroom door.

“But he’ll want to talk about
us
,” she countered as she paced back toward the window.

A solution came to her and spurred her out to the hallway. She went to Hugh’s bedroom door and knocked. And knocked. “Hugh? Answer. I need you to do me a favor.”

Sadie came down the hall carrying fresh linens. “Pardon me, miss, but Mr. Hugh isn’t here.”

Of course he wasn’t.

There was no way around it. Rowena had to go see Morrie.

As she crossed the lawn she rehearsed different ways in which to curtail his talk of love, or their being together.
“It’s not the time or place to talk of this, Morrie. You have to focus on getting well and—”

As she entered the stables she kept her monologue to herself. But at the entrance to Morrie’s room she found a crowd of three stableboys. She heard them talk about repairs to a bridle and saddle.

She took advantage of their presence and paused in the doorway until they turned. Caps were removed and conversation stopped.

“Outta here, boys. My nurse has arrived.”

But as the boys started to leave, Rowena slid by them and made a beeline for the medicine. “No need to go. Let me give the patient his dose and I’ll leave you to your business.”

“But—”

She poured out the medicine and virtually shoved it in Morrie’s mouth. “There, now,” she said. “I’ll be back to check on you in the morning.”

“But—”

Rowena nodded to the boys and escaped into the stables. She heard Morrie say, “Thanks a lot, fellas.”

She felt bad for being so cowardly, but also felt greatly relieved that she had a respite before she’d see him alone again.

A horse whinnied nearby, drawing Rowena toward the rows of stalls. She found the vocal mare and stroked the horse’s nose. “There, there. Has everyone neglected you?”

The horse flicked its head, as if nodding. The smells of the horses and the stables were pungent, yet brought back wonderful memories of hours spent with Morrie, helping him tend the horses and even muck out the straw in the stalls. Looking down at her fancy dress with its elaborate trimmings, it seemed ridiculous to think she’d ever gotten dirty through such hard work.

Yet she’d loved every minute of it and had rushed to the stables each day for more.

She walked down the center aisle with horse stalls on either side. Most of these horses were new and unfamiliar to her, but there, in the last stall on the right, was Bessie, the horse who’d been hers.

“Here, girl,” Rowena said, clicking her tongue and holding out her hand.

Bessie came to her, limping a bit.

How ironic.

“You limp too, girl? It appears we’re two of a kind.”

Bessie nuzzled her nose into Rowena’s hand, and Rowena leaned her head against her mane. “I miss riding you. Have you missed me?”

I can’t ride anymore.

Yes you can.

Could she? Since the accident she’d given up riding horses. And sailing. And dancing. And doing much of anything that brought her joy.

She heard voices coming toward her. The boys were done talking to Morrie.

She should go talk to him and give him a proper good-night.

Instead, she walked out the other end of the barn, her streak of cowardice intact.

Sofia slipped into the bedroom she shared with Lucy and was glad to find it empty. She didn’t want to talk to her sister tonight for fear that questions would be asked about how Sofia had spent her evening—and how Lucy had spent hers.

Sofia knew her talent for hiding her true feelings was limited. If Lucy saw her, she’d know something was wrong and Sofia would have to lie, or even worse, confront Lucy with the truth—that Dante was actually Edward DeWitt.

She couldn’t fathom such a confrontation, nor the question that would surely arise as to how Sofia knew such a thing. Sofia couldn’t let on she was spending time with Hugh Langdon. Lucy had warned her about him, and though her warnings appeared to be unfounded, Lucy would still not approve.

Though how could Lucy talk? She was being romanced by a rich man herself.

But surely she didn’t know Dante’s true identity. Sofia couldn’t imagine Lucy would ever betray Rowena like that.

It was all too complicated to deal with tonight. And so Sofia quickly got undressed, put out the lamp, and got in bed before Lucy got home.

She closed her eyes and prayed for guidance. For clarity.

And for a miracle.

L
e ore del mattino hanno l’oro in bocca.

The morning hours are the most precious of the day.

How many times had her father said those words?

Lucy sat on the stone wall, facing the sea, waiting . . . waiting . . .

There it was! The sun.

It began as a sliver of red, like a ball of fire trying to rise out of the sea. As it rose, the sea diluted its fire from red to orange to a white too bright to hold her gaze.

Quick! Before it’s fully risen. Say what you’ve come to say.

“I . . .” It was odd to hear her voice aloud and she checked left, then right, to make sure she was alone before she continued. “I am in love.”

It was a simple statement that surprised her with its power.

She repeated it. “I am in love and am loved. We want to get married, and yet . . .”

And yet . . .

Lucy leaned her elbows on her knees, clasping her hands, looking down at the rocky path.

Rocky path. That’s what would come with her marrying Dante, a man of higher birth. What would his parents say? What would society say? What would Mamma say?

Mamma and Sofia would be going home soon. The ball was tonight, meaning their reason for being in Newport would come to an end. They would have to go back to their apartment above the dress shop.

But if I marry Dante
 . . .

Lucy would be living with him. Then what about Mamma and Sofia? She couldn’t expect Dante to take on that responsibility—even though he
had
said, “
They can learn to depend on me.”
Without Lucy’s income, Mamma and Sofia wouldn’t be able to stay in the apartment. Where would they go?

“I feel so selfish. Oh, God, what should I do?”

God? She’d been talking to the sunrise. How had God come into this?

But as she watched the sun move the clouds out of the way, as she listened to the waves wash over the rocks, teasing them with cool relief only to withdraw to tease again, she acknowledged what she’d already known, that God controlled the sunrise and the waves and the shore. With the flip of His will He could stop them all and move heaven and earth:
Smuovere mare e monti.

So why would you listen to my prayers? I’ve always stubbornly insisted I could do things myself.

At that moment the sun sprang free from the clouds, making Lucy laugh aloud.

“Fine,” she said. “You’re listening. So help me do what’s right for all of us. Help me . . .” She remembered yet another piece of wisdom from her father.
Ciò che Dio vuole, io voglio
: What God wills, I will.

I need to let Him choose?
It was totally against her character. And yet . . .

Lucy looked out to sea and let the sound of the waves accompany her while she waited for His answer.

Where was Lucy?

Sofia awakened early and found her sister gone. Thinking of Lucy’s practical nature, her first thought was that her sister was in the workroom, making sure the costumes were ready for the ball tonight.

But then she remembered seeing Lucy walking with Dante—Edward DeWitt. The look on her sister’s face, the way she leaned her head against his arm . . . Lucy was in love.

With Rowena’s suitor.

Which said little about Edward’s character. What was he doing teasing two women with his attention? Although she’d never seen Edward with Rowena, she assumed they were still courting with the intent to marry.

Perhaps Hugh had been mistaken in saying that the man walking with Lucy was Edward.

The thought of Hugh made Sofia turn toward the wall. Was he awake?

She pressed her fingers to the wall they shared and knocked softly.

She heard scuffling on the other side. “Sofia?”

“I’m here. Alone.”

“Do you want to go for a walk?”

“Give me five minutes.”

Any thoughts about the problems of Lucy, Rowena, and Edward vanished with the chance to see this man she treasured.

Rowena awakened from a dream—reluctantly. She’d been riding across lush fields, laughing. Someone was riding with her, laughing with her. She felt the wind on her face, making her hair dance behind her. She wanted to go faster, so she whipped the reins and pressed her inner thighs to the horse’s back and—

At the memory, she sat upright. “I was riding astride?” She’d ridden like that as a child, and had just begun to learn the art of riding sidesaddle, like a lady, when she’d had the accident and riding had been taken from her altogether.

But in the dream I wasn’t a child. . . .

And in the dream her riding companion was, as it had always been, Morrie.

Which made her remember her responsibility and his need.

The clock on the mantel revealed it was only half past six. She wanted to go check on him, but didn’t want to arouse Lucy for the chore of dressing. So she quietly entered the dressing room and chose her simplest day dress. She would not be able to manage the row of buttons marching from the wrist to her elbows, but so be it. Hopefully she could be to the stables and back before any of her family saw her crime of fashion.

She leaned toward her vanity mirror and drew her hair into a hasty bun, securing it with a few hairpins. The tendrils from sleep fell around her face, needing Lucy’s skilled hands to tame them. So be it. Morrie wouldn’t mind.

Rowena exited into the quiet hallway and tiptoed toward the stairs. But in passing Hugh’s room, she heard his voice. She paused at the door and listened.

“Come on, then. I’ll meet you outside.”

Who was he talking to?

Before she could consider the question, his door opened, and they nearly collided.

“Rowena? What are you—?”

“I ask the same of you, brother,” she whispered. She tried to see past him, into the room. If he had a girl in there, she’d be the first to tell their mother. Wild or not, there were limits. “I heard you talking and—”

She was distracted by the sound of a door opening to her left. Out came Sofia, closing the door of the dressing room gently behind—

Sofia looked up. And gasped.

Rowena looked to her brother. “Hugh? What are you up—?”

Hugh pulled her into his room, then went to the hall and beckoned Sofia to join them. Once the door was closed, Hugh pressed himself against it. “I can explain.”

Rowena crossed her arms. “You always can.”

Sofia moved to Hugh’s side, and he put an arm around her. “It’s not what you think,” she said.

Rowena nearly laughed at the absurdity of the statement coupled with their close proximity: Sofia, with her arm around Hugh’s waist, and he, protective of her. When he leaned over and kissed her forehead, that was it. “Hugh, she’s a child.”

Sofia’s face hardened. “I am not a child! I’m sixteen. Nearly.”

Hugh put a finger to his lips, reminding them all of the need for discretion. Then he said to her, “You’re only fifteen?”

“You’re not much more, are you?”

“Nineteen,” he said. “Nearly twenty.”

They were proving Rowena’s point. “You are both children, playing at love.”

Hugh reaffirmed his protective arm. “We are not playing. I love her and she loves me.”

A laugh escaped. “You’ve known each other mere days and you love—?”

The two exchanged a glance and a nod. “Call it love at first sight.”

This was ridiculous. “Love at first sight only exists in fairy tales and novels. People need to know each other a long time and
spend
time with each other to know whether they are in love.”

“And how has that worked for you and Edward?” Hugh asked.

It was a decisive blow, causing Rowena to take a step back. “That’s not fair,” she whispered.

“Is it fair that you judge the love between Sofia and me with just a glance?”

Sofia nodded once and said, “ ‘
L’amore domina senza regole.’
Love rules without rules. My father used to say that.”

It was a lovely saying, but like it or not, there
were
rules. “It sounds like an excuse to me,” Rowena said. “Those in love may wish for there to be no rules, but let me assure you, there are plenty of them, rules rooted in common sense.”

“Like what?” Hugh asked.

Surely he wasn’t so blind. Surely he wouldn’t make her state them aloud.

Sofia saved Rowena from having to be cruel. “He’s rich, I’m not.” She looked up into his eyes. “We know that. And we don’t care.”

They were completely naïve. “But society cares. Our parents will care.”

Hugh let go of Sofia and put a hand on his sister’s arm. “Our parents are forcing you into a marriage you don’t want, one that has nothing to do with love. How can that be right, or make sense—common or otherwise?”

“And what about—?” Sofia cut herself off. “Never mind.”

Hugh touched his sister’s chin, making her look at him. “Sofia and I are soul mates. That we come from different backgrounds is a detail, not an obstacle. Beyond the trappings we are the same; we understand each other and complement each other. She has changed me for the better and leaves me wanting to be changed even more. I must marry her, no matter what the cost.”

Rowena was surprised. His words held a poignancy she’d never witnessed in him before. “But how can you marry her?”

“How can I not?”

Rowena froze. It was like being presented with a page of truth so profound and so undeniable that she had to pause to get a full view of it so she could grasp its edges and make it manageable. They loved and so they would marry. Action reaction. One plus one equaled—

“Now, if you don’t mind, Wena, we’re off to the Cliff Walk before the day takes over.”

Rowena turned to leave.

On the way out, Hugh said, “Are you missing something?”

“What?”

He pointed at the rows of opened buttons at her wrists, at her wagging cuffs. Then he winked at her and ran off toward the back stairs with Sofia in tow.

Their joy apparent, his last words took on new meaning.

She
was
missing something.

Someone.

As soon as they were safely hidden from view on the Cliff Walk, Sofia released the question. “You want to marry me?”

“Of course.”