The House on the Hill: A Ghost Story Page 8

  “Congratulations, Amelia. I’m very happy for you, and I look forward to meeting Major Dawson.”

  “Sophie, he’s so handsome and charming,” Amelia gushed. “And he will be a baronet once his father kicks the—well, you know…” she added with a merry giggle. “Can you imagine it? Little ol’ me, Lady Amelia? Why, I get shivers just saying it out loud.”

  “Will you go live in England then?” Sophie asked.

  “I suppose so, but I don’t mind. Really, I don’t. It will be great fun. I’m sick and tired of boring old Boston. Jeremy says it’s nothing but a colonial outpost, full of provincial merchants who aspire to have the freedoms of the ruling class. I suppose he’s referring to Father, but I don’t care, not if I get to marry into the ruling class.” She giggled again. “Say you’ll come, Sophie. You really should, you know, and not just for me,” Amelia added, her demeanor changing to one of cool practicality. “There will be a number of eligible young men at the party, Jeremy’s army friends and such. It would be a wonderful opportunity for you to meet someone. Oh, I know you have your heart set on Teddy what’s-his-name, but think of it, Sophie. You could marry an officer, not some grubby sailor who doesn’t have a pot to piss in, pardon my saying so. You have prospects, my dear. Don’t throw them away on some childish infatuation.”

  Sophie didn’t bother to reply. How could she ever explain to Amelia how she felt about Teddy? She was happy for her friend and wished her joy in her marriage, but Amelia didn’t need her good wishes. She’d be happy regardless. Amelia, for all her outward frivolity, was a shrewd and practical young woman who was determined to better her lot in life through marriage. She wasn’t looking for love; she was looking for a golden opportunity, and she’d clearly found one. Sophie was in no doubt that Major Dawson believed himself to be the object of Amelia’s maidenly affections, but it was his prospects Amelia was after. The fact that the young man happened to be handsome and charming was a bonus, one Amelia was very pleased with, but Major Dawson, or his future title and fortune, would have been just as attractive had he been short and stout with a receding hairline. Amelia would have surely advised him to keep it hidden beneath a powdered wig, at least in public, and encouraged him to order a male corset to improve his posture and smooth out his paunch. Before he knew it, her husband would cut a dashing figure in Boston society and make Amelia, and her father, proud.

  Amelia could never begin to understand Sophie’s feelings for Teddy, and Sophie was sorry she’d shared her secret in a moment of weakness. Amelia had never betrayed Sophie’s confidence, but she also never missed an opportunity to belittle Teddy and remind Sophie that she could do so much better than the son of a tavern keeper, conveniently ignoring the fact that she was nothing more than a daughter of a bookseller herself. The only difference was that Lionel Holland was a better businessman than Robin Mercer had been and probably kept his nose clean when it came to paying his taxes.

  “We are going to serve strawberry ice,” Amelia gleefully revealed. “Can you imagine, serving ice in the middle of summer? Father ordered extra ice during the winter just for such an occasion. We will keep the sweet in the icehouse until it’s time, then serve it in little silver cups. Oh, it will be wonderful,” she said, clapping her hands. “I can’t wait. Jeremy will be so impressed. We might be provincial, but we know how to entertain in style.”

  The promise of strawberry ice made Sophie’s mouth water. Something cool and sweet was just what she needed to make her feel better. The nausea she’d been experiencing for the past few months was finally beginning to abate, but she still couldn’t abide the smell of bacon or the boiled beef her father was so fond of. She craved sweets, but Agnes rarely baked in the summer, not wishing to spend any more time than necessary in the sweltering kitchen.

  “Of course, I’ll come,” Sophie said, smiling at Amelia, who was munching on a cucumber sandwich. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “It’s settled, then. I hope you have something pretty to wear. I’m having a new gown made. It’s in the latest style, and I will have a bonnet with a matching ribbon to go with it, and new slippers. I wanted the gown to be blue, to match my eyes, you know, but Mama said a pale yellow will look more fetching. More virginal is what she really means,” Amelia said with a knowing chuckle. “As if the color of my gown had any bearing on my purity. I’d never be foolish enough to risk disgrace, not ever. On my wedding night, I’ll be as pure as the driven snow, and make no mistake about that. Jeremy will be pleased,” she concluded as she set down her cup. “Well, I must get going. I have a fitting in half an hour and Mama will be cross if I’m late. I’ll see you soon.”

  Amelia planted a light kiss on Sophie’s cheek and breezed out of the parlor, calling for her maid as she went. Her father wouldn’t allow her to brave the streets of Boston without a chaperone, and Sissy, Amelia’s Negro maid, was only too happy to visit with Agnes while the young ladies took their tea. Agnes, who’d been born and bred in Boston, felt a deep sympathy for Sissy, who’d never known her family. She’d been brought to Massachusetts from Barbados at the age of ten and sold to Judge Harold Thomas, who in turn had sold her to Mr. Holland two years ago when he no longer had need of her. To date, Mr. Holland owned Sissy and two young men, who looked after his horses and carriage but doubled as footmen when Mr. Holland entertained.

  Sophie breathed a sigh of relief once Amelia left. It was exhausting to keep up the pretense of normalcy when her mind was in such turmoil. Sophie’s hand went to her swelling belly. She was four months gone with child, but the Sea Falcon still had not come into port, leaving her in a constant state of anxiety. Until Teddy returned, she was alone in her predicament, and this wasn’t the type of situation that would remain a secret for long. They had to get married as soon as possible, before her father learned of her condition. She’d done everything in her power to keep her secret, even going as far as buying chicken blood at the market to smear on her menstrual rags to keep Agnes off the scent, but as the child grew, no amount of subterfuge would suffice. Only marriage could save her from utter ruin.

  Sophie collected the empty cups and saucers and carried the tray into the kitchen, where Agnes was already busy preparing supper. The sight of raw meat nearly made Sophie retch, but she took a deep breath and averted her eyes, hurrying to the slop sink by the window. She quickly washed the dirty crockery and put the clean china back on the shelf before retiring to her room for a brief rest. She hadn’t done much since getting up that morning, but she felt mentally drained and physically exhausted. As she lay on her bed, she considered which gown she might wear to the garden party. It was more than two weeks away, and at the rate she was expanding, she’d have to lace her corset very tightly indeed to fit into her best frock, so Agnes’s help would be required.

  “Oh Teddy, please come back soon,” Sophie whispered into the shimmering heat of the August afternoon. “I need you.” She wished more than anything that she could hear Teddy’s voice through the open window as he greeted his mother and sisters, but all she heard was the low hum of the printing press and the buzzing of a fly trapped in the folds of the muslin curtain. Another day had passed without word.

  Chapter 14

  “Surely it can’t be as bad as all that.” The voice belonged to a young man with wavy fair hair pulled back and secured with a black bow, and light blue eyes that gazed at Sophie with concern. His round face was pink from the heat of the afternoon and his stocky form was ensconced in a beautifully made suit of blue-gray silk, his waistcoat embroidered with flowers and butterflies.

  “I beg your pardon?” Sophie said haughtily, embarrassed at being caught scowling.

  The garden party was a huge success, and Major Dawson was just as handsome and charming as Amelia had promised he would be, but it was an inordinately hot day and after several hours spent outdoors, Sophie was tired and overheated.

  “You looked very unhappy, so I thought I might offer my services,” the man said apologetically. “Forgive me if I mis
read your expression.”

  “You didn’t,” Sophie admitted. “The truth is that my shoes pinch and I’m rather warm, but there are no seats left in the shade.” Presented like that, her predicament didn’t sound too daunting, but the young man immediately sprang into action.

  “Allow me,” he said, taking her by the arm and heading toward a table situated beneath a shady oak where several officers, friends of Major Dawson, no doubt, were enjoying their wine.

  “Pardon me, gentlemen, but the lady is a tad overheated and needs a moment to sit in the shade.”

  Sophie went crimson with embarrassment, her cheeks probably as scarlet as the tunics the men wore, but they all jumped to their feet and offered her and her companion the use of the table. They bowed in unison and left them to enjoy the shade.

  Sophie sank into a wrought-iron chair and exhaled with relief. Her shoes weren’t new, but her feet were swollen, probably due to the pregnancy that threw some new and hitherto unknown discomforts at her every day. It was marginally cooler in the shade and pleasantly peaceful since most of the guests were congregated in an area closer to the French doors that led into the house.

  “May I know your name?” Sophie said to the man, who settled across from her as if he were her escort.

  “How rude of me not to introduce myself. I do apologize,” he said, looking shamefaced. “I’m George Holland, Amelia’s brother.” Of course, now that Sophie knew who he was, she spotted the resemblance. She’d heard about George but had never met him.

  “Sophie Brewster.”

  “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Brewster. I’ve heard much about you.”

  “Have you?” Sophie asked in some surprise.

  “Naturally. Amelia said you are her dearest friend. I take it she never mentioned me,” he said with an amused smile.

  “Of course, she has. I just didn’t immediately make the connection,” Sophie replied, flustered.

  “I’m sure we would have met sooner had I not been packed off to Cambridge,” he replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “May I fetch you a glass of lemonade? You still look a bit flushed.”

  “Yes, that would be very kind.”

  George Holland sprang to his feet and strode purposefully toward the open French doors, giving Sophie an opportunity to kick off her shoes and wiggle her toes. Her feet throbbed from being confined for so long and she wished she could go home, but her father was nowhere to be seen, and she was too tired to go searching for him among the throng of guests, particularly since sitting in the shade of the great oak was so quiet and pleasant.

  She watched as Amelia strolled from one knot of guests to another, beautiful in her primrose gown and matching straw bonnet, her arm threaded through that of her intended, who glowed with pride as he accompanied her on her rounds. A dull ache pierced Sophie’s heart. When she married Teddy, there’d be no party, no joy, and certainly no parental approval to bask in. They’d have to marry on the sly and then present the fait accompli to her father and his mother, who’d probably relent a little once they discovered the reason for their haste. Sophie’s hand unconsciously went to her belly, which seemed to have grown since last week.

  “Here we are,” George said as he set a tall glass of lemonade in front of her. He had two cups of strawberry ice in his other hand and presented the sweet to her with a flourish. “I thought you might enjoy the ice. It’s sure to help you cool down, and it is delicious. I was looking forward to it all afternoon,” he confessed as he used the dainty spoon to taste the ice. “Mm,” he moaned theatrically. “Delightful.”

  Sophie drank some lemonade before attending to her own ice. It was heavenly, and she was grateful to George for being so thoughtful. “You’re a very considerate man,” she said as she licked her spoon.

  “Not at all. I’m just a man who likes his sweets,” he replied. “I could eat this every day. Well, maybe not in the dead of winter,” he amended.

  “Do you like Cambridge?” Sophie asked as she continued to savor her ice.

  “It’s not so very different from Boston, in my opinion. There’s no harbor, of course, but that makes for less riffraff on the streets, what with the sailors not surging into town every time a ship comes into port.”

  Sophie ignored the rude reference to sailors and attempted to steer the conversation in a different direction. “Do you enjoy reading, seeing as you have unlimited access to new books?”

  George shrugged. “Not really. I find it dull, and I can’t abide the scholarly types who frequent the shop. They’re always arguing about some minor intellectual point, trying to convince each other of the validity of their arguments, but it’s all hogwash to me.” He smiled apologetically and set his empty cup on the table. “Are you here with an escort, Miss Brewster? Have I unwittingly stolen you away from some ill-mannered young man?”

  “No, I’m here with my father, who’s probably talking to one of his many acquaintances. He knows I wouldn’t like it if he hovered at my elbow all afternoon.”

  “Very wise of him, I’m sure,” George said. “He’d probably scare off potential suitors, and what young lady would want that, especially at a gathering that’s chockfull of dashing men in uniform?”

  “I’m not here to find a suitor,” Sophie retorted, annoyed by his implication that she was desperate to find a husband.

  “I’m sorry,” George exclaimed. “I certainly meant no offense. It’s just that Amelia…” He allowed the sentence to trail off, probably realizing that what he was about to say would be even more unflattering.

  “It’s just that Amelia said I was still unspoken for and thought she was doing me a great favor by inviting me?” Sophie said, pinning George with her gaze.

  “She said nothing of the sort. Amelia is very fond of you,” George replied lamely, looking mortified.

  Sophie took pity on him and smiled. “Please, don’t worry, Mr. Holland. You haven’t offended me in the least. Husband-hunting is the only sport young women are encouraged to partake in, so your conclusion was very astute.”

  “I didn’t mean to make assumptions.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “That’s a unique necklace,” George said, his gaze caressing the creamy swell of her breasts above her bodice with barely hidden admiration.

  “It was my mother’s,” Sophie lied. This was the second time she’d fibbed about the origin of the necklace. When asked, she’d told her father that she had bought the necklace for herself with the money she’d saved from the weekly allowance he gave her. Thankfully, he’d accepted her explanation and hadn’t mentioned the necklace again.

  “I’ve never seen the like. It must be very special to you.”

  “It is. I never take it off. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go find my father. It’s getting late, and I’m rather tired.”

  George stood the moment Sophie rose from her seat. “May I see you again?” he asked, his face coloring in a manner that was endearing. “I’ll be in Boston for another week, at least, and it would be my honor to call upon you.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Holland, but I don’t think that would be possible. It was a pleasure to meet you. And thank you for the ice.”

  Walking away, Sophie could feel George Holland’s gaze upon her, trailing her progress. He was a nice man, but she had no need of him. What she needed was Teddy.

  Chapter 15

  As a blisteringly hot August dragged on, Sophie’s anxiety mounted, her desperation taking a toll on her already frayed nerves and weakened body. She was nearly five months gone, and although the initial sickness had passed, she felt unwell most of the time, a condition that was becoming increasingly difficult to hide from Agnes. Her face was permanently flushed from the excessive heat, her hands and feet were swollen by midafternoon, and her breasts spilled over the bodice of her gown in a way that was becoming unseemly. Despite the tight lacing, her belly was clearly visible, and the only thing that kept her condition from being discovered was the bum roll that
kept the fabric from clinging too tightly to her waist.

  Desperate for something to do to ease her suffering, she took daily walks to the harbor, her eyes searching the horizon for any sign of Teddy’s ship, but although she’d spotted a few vessels, none of them proved to be the Sea Falcon. When not out walking, she gazed out the window for hours on end, hoping for a glimpse of Teddy’s beloved face, but she never caught sight of him. She felt even more dejected when an invitation to Amelia’s wedding arrived at the end of August. It was printed on thick, creamy paper and decorated with a tasteful border of silver and peach. The wedding was to be on the fifteenth of October at Old North Church, followed by a reception hosted by Mr. and Mrs. Holland.

  Sophie allowed the invitation to flutter to the floor as tears of despair blinded her. She’d be nearly seven months gone by then and wouldn’t be able to hide her pregnancy any longer. Even if she and Teddy were married by that time, everyone would know she’d gotten with child long before the wedding; people would make snide comments and her father would be forced to deal with the shame of having a wanton daughter, the proof of her disgrace right there for everyone to see. She would have to decline the invitation, but then Amelia would demand to know why she wasn’t coming to her wedding, as would her father, who was on friendly terms with Mr. Holland due to their business association.

  No, they would have to accept, and then Sophie would feign illness to get out of attending. That was the only logical solution. She reached down and picked up the lovely invitation, wishing it were an invitation to her own wedding. She dreamed of walking down the aisle toward Teddy on her father’s arm—pure and innocent of any wrongdoing, not with an unborn child kicking her ribs as she made her vows.