The Bride Price Page 9

  “Richard,” Christine said with an impish smile.

  “Right, like I would ever be able to talk to Mr. Arrogant about any of this. He would never listen to a lowly woman,” Sophie grumbled.

  “He may surprise you, Sophie.”

  “I won’t hold my breath.”

  Christine squeezed her hand. “I’d better get to the hospital. We’re hoping to discharge a few soldiers today.”

  Sophie nodded. “Thanks for having breakfast with me. Will I see you later?”

  “Yes, Mama and I will be joining you for dinner. Andrew said he would also come, and since Nona hasn’t seen Elizabeth’s children for a few days, she told them to feel free to come for dinner as well. You may have the whole Simmonds family to deal with tonight.”

  Sophie walked Christine to the door and watched her walk down the drive. The clock in the foyer read a little past ten, and Sophie didn’t really know how she was going to the kill the next four hours. With the house empty other than the hustle and bustle of the servants, Sophie knew she would have to provide her own entertainment.

  Gathering borrowed outerwear, Sophie took off down the side path that led to the stables and the soldiers practicing their military movements. Hearing the commotion of hooves and men’s raised voices as she approached, she fought the urge to peer inside the arena. Unwilling to draw attention to herself, she snuck into the dark tranquility of the barn and smiled as a few of the horses stuck their heads out to greet her.

  She recognized the gelding that had taken her on the ride of her life the previous day, and she made her way to his stall and pulled a sugar cube from her pocket.

  “You are a beautiful boy, aren’t you, Samson?” Sophie ran her hand over his muzzle. “I’m sorry I confused you yesterday. I wish I could ride you the right way so that we could really become acquainted.” She sighed. “But that would be entirely too risqué in this day and age, I’m afraid.”

  Immaculate lines, unusually tall but still, no doubt Arabian somewhere in his lineage, Samson was larger than life. Muscular and lean, with a quiet disposition, he nickered his pleasure as Sophie held her hand flat for him to take the sugar. Hearing a slight rustle to her left, Sophie turned to find Richard in the open doorway of the barn, looking as arrogant as ever.

  “Mrs. Ford, I didn’t mean to startle you. Is anything amiss?”

  “Of course not, Mr. Madden. Why would you automatically assume something was wrong? Is it because I walked out to the big ol’ barn all by my little ol’ self and me being a lowly woman and all, there must be something amiss? Or were you getting ready to tell me that it isn’t appropriate for me to be walking around by myself? Will you be giving me commentary on my outfit today as well?”

  His hands went up in surrender. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend. And, please, call me Richard. I saw you slink into the stables and wanted to make sure you didn’t need anything. I also wondered if you would like to watch some of the training. I noticed you watching from your window this morning and thought you might enjoy it.”

  “Well, first of all, I didn’t slink anywhere and, no, I won’t call you Richard. Mr. Madden works perfectly fine for me.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Sorry.” She took a deep breath and forced a smile. “I must have gotten up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Yes, I believe I’d enjoy watching the training.”

  “Wonderful. Why don’t you follow me—ma’am.”

  Richard led Sophie out to the large open arena filled with magnificent horses working in perfect unison. Each man worked with his own mount so that both animal and rider could form a trust-bond. She spent the next two hours watching the men and horses put through their paces. It was invigorating.

  Richard made his way over to her at about noon. “Mrs. Ford, the men are going to stop for something to eat. Would you like to join me for lunch?”

  “They may be expecting me back at the Wades, so I should probably get going.”

  “I’d be happy to escort you to the house, and then perhaps I could join you?”

  “All right, Mr. Madden.” Sophie clasped her hands in front of her instead of taking the arm he offered. Touching him just didn’t feel right, somehow.

  Finding no one around when they entered the doctor’s home, Sophie led Richard to the dining room and discovered a spread of cold sandwiches and fruit, along with hot tea and a pitcher of water. “I’m not quite sure what to say. Is it okay to invite you to stay for lunch, or is it something I need to run by Nona?”

  Richard smiled. “Knowing Nona, if you invited the entire Union army, she would welcome them.”

  “Right.” They perused the buffet and then Richard held her chair for her once they filled their plates.

  “How is it, Mr. Madden, that you are home in relative luxury, rather than on the front lines?” Sophie dropped her eyes to her plate. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that as rude as it came out.”

  “It’s quite all right, Mrs. Ford. It’s a rather long story.”

  “Apparently, I have almost two hours to kill before this really obnoxious man collects me for our scheduled appointment.”

  Richard chuckled. “He must be terrible.”

  Sophie grinned and took a bite of bread.

  “Andrew, Adam, and I had a successful merchant business up until the war started. I have been training horses most of my life, so when it came time that the army needed a mounted cavalry, they approached me to train the men and the horses. Andrew, along with Christine’s husband, Peter, enlisted at the start of the war, and Adam was left to run the business. Adam isn’t in favor of the war, perhaps because he’s British and has managed to stay out of the fight. Now that Andrew is home permanently, he has been a great support to Adam and, despite the war, they are prospering.”

  “So what is your association with the hospital then?” She lifted her fork to her mouth.

  “Many of the men I have trained come back through the hospital, so I am called upon from time to time to notify next of kin, or simply let them see a familiar face. Recently, President Lincoln requested I train more men, as we’ve been losing so many.”

  “President Lincoln, himself? Not your commanding officer?”

  “Technically, I’m not part of the army. My brother, Clayton, is quite close to the President, both personally and professionally, so I report directly to Mr. Lincoln. Unconventional, yes, but convenient for our leader.”

  Sophie sat dumbstruck. She was speaking with someone who knew her hero—personally. She was one degree of separation from one of the greatest men who ever lived. Shaking away her thoughts, she asked, “Has that been hard? Training so many men who don’t make it?”

  “I try not to dwell too heavily on the losses. Luckily, we’ve had many more successes, so I try to focus on that.”

  “Where does your southern accent come from? Do you have any family, Mr. Madden?”

  “Richard, please. If you won’t call me Richard, I’ll continue to call you, ma’am,” he threatened.

  Sophie pointed her fork at him. “I knew you were doing it to irritate me. Yes, fine, I’ll call you Richard. I think you should still call me Mrs. Ford, though.” He raised an eyebrow at her and she folded. “Okay, fine. Call me Sophie.”

  “Sophie,” he acknowledged. “In answer to your question, I am originally from Virginia. I don’t have much family left. My parents and sister died from typhoid several years ago. Clayton is my only family now and currently stationed in Washington. His plan is to settle here when the war is over, as neither one of us feel Virginia is our home any longer. Although, I have a feeling his interests may be better served in D.C.”

  “Do you see him when you’re called to Washington?”

  “Yes. I usually stay with him.”

  Sophie watched Richard lift a glass to his lips and noticed his hand shaking. She felt a warm flush start its way up her neck. She had no idea why, but she suddenly felt awkward.

  Richard lowered his glass. “Why don’t we go for our ride now?”


  “I think that would be fun. I’ll run and change.” Sophie made her way upstairs and tracked Betty down to help her dress. She found the riding habit, clean and hung up in the freestanding wardrobe.

  It took her thirty minutes to get out of her skirts and into the riding habit, and once again she wished for a split skirt. She wasn’t really looking forward to the sidesaddle again but knew she didn’t really have a choice if she wanted to ride.

  Just as Sophie stepped into the foyer, Richard walked back through the front door. “I took the liberty of having Samson saddled for you. He’s with my horse, right outside.”

  “Thank you.”

  Taking her hand, he placed it on his sleeve and gallantly led her outside. She noticed his hands no longer shook and wondered why. She didn’t linger on her thoughts as he helped her mount and held the horse while she tried to maneuver her skirts. Once she was settled, he mounted and they took off at a slower pace than he was probably used to, but she was grateful, still not completely comfortable in the saddle.

  “Why did you decide on living here, Richard?” Sophie asked after a few minutes of riding.

  “I met the Simmonds family years ago, shortly after my acquaintance with Michael. I purchased the property partly because it was next to the Wades, and partly because the horse facilities were so new. I think that might have been why Lincoln asked me to train the cavalry. I already had the perfect land, which meant the Union didn’t need to look for or purchase anything.”

  She nodded and they lapsed into silence again. The countryside overwhelmed her senses and she took several deep breaths, almost in an effort to remember the clean smell of fresh snow. She had never seen so much and the vastness of the trees held her in awe. She couldn’t imagine this beautiful place destroyed, and although she didn’t remember a whole lot about Harrisburg, she hoped and prayed it stayed intact.

  A man-made lake straddled both properties, and they rode the perimeter in easy conversation. Sophie was surprised when Richard brought their visit to a close. “We should really get back. I have to go to Washington tomorrow to meet with the President, and I’ll need to get an early start.”

  Sophie nodded. “How long will you be gone?”

  “I’ll be gone for a few weeks, I’d imagine. Meetings with President Lincoln are never short.”

  Returning to the Wades without any casualties or runaway horses, Richard helped her dismount and, as he lowered her to the ground, she noticed the smell of alcohol.

  Probably why his shaking has stopped.

  She wondered how much he’d had to drink, and how he’d imbibed without her notice, as he walked her to the door.

  “Thank you, Sophie, for a wonderful afternoon. I enjoyed your company immensely.”

  “I really should be thanking you, Richard. I’m sure you had a lot to do today and yet you took the time to show me around. That was very nice of you and I appreciate it.”

  She was a little embarrassed at her earlier treatment of him, but he was gracious enough not to mention it as they walked inside. They nearly bumped into Nona, who looked as though she was on her way out. “Oh, Richard and Sophie, what a nice surprise.”

  “Good afternoon, Nona,” Richard said.

  “Did you have a nice time, dear?” Nona asked Sophie.

  “Yes, Nona, it was lovely.”

  “Richard, Michael mentioned you were off to Washington tomorrow. We would love it if you would have dinner with us tonight. Six o’clock?”

  “Yes, Nona, dinner will be appreciated. I’ll see you both at six o’clock.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Betty collected Sophie at five-thirty and helped her dress. Sophie chose a dark floral skirt with a simple white blouse and a jacket that complemented the skirt. Deciding to do her own hair, she attempted a simple chignon, but working with hairpins was a bit past her skill level. More hair ended up cascading down her back than staying in the bun.

  What I wouldn’t do for a scrunchy right now.

  She went downstairs to see if there was anything she could help with. A funny question to ask the wealthy with servants, but her mama taught her right and she couldn’t help at least asking. The house was alive with activity. Sophie didn’t want to be in the way, so she made her way to the parlor. Inside she found two boys sitting on the floor playing jacks and marbles.

  Adam and Elizabeth’s children?

  She was about to say something to them, when Elizabeth bustled through the door. “Boys, it’s time to get ready for dinner. Please put your toys away and wash your hands.”

  “Yes mama.”

  She turned to Sophie. “Good evening, Sophie. Have you survived your day without any of us? I hope you weren’t bored.”

  “Richard Madden took me riding today.”

  “How nice.” She turned back to her boys. “Thomas, Ambrose, please come and meet Mrs. Ford. Sophie, I’d like you to meet my sons, Thomas is eight and Ambrose is six.”

  The boys jumped up and bowed gallantly. The introduction was made, and then, just as quickly, the boys took off to get ready for dinner. Elizabeth laughed as they left, hoping aloud they didn’t break anything in their haste to eat. She linked her arm through Sophie’s and moved towards the foyer. The butler stood at the open door, welcoming Miriam, Christine, and Andrew. The group made their way back into the parlor. Adam, having managed to corral the two young boys, joined everyone a few minutes later.

  Richard arrived promptly at six and was shown into the parlor. He placed a lingering kiss on Sophie’s fingers, and she blushed, embarrassed with the show of affection and somewhat dismayed by the scent of alcohol on Richard’s breath, heavier than earlier in the day. She sighed in relief when she was saved by the butler, who informed everyone that dinner was ready.

  The group settled into relaxed conversation as dinner was served. Adam and Andrew filled everyone in on what was happening with the business, and Christine updated everyone on life at the hospital. The family started grilling Richard about what he was going to do while in Washington and he did his best to provide as much detail as he could.

  “Has the President said what he needs you for, or for how long?” Michael asked.

  “I believe it’s a strategy meeting. I imagine I’ll be gone for several weeks.”

  “I’m sure Clay will be glad to see you. It has been a long time, has it not?” Nona sipped her wine.

  “Yes, almost a year. It will be good to see him.”

  Sophie nearly dropped her fork when she felt a hand on her leg. Richard’s hand. She pulled away and raised an eyebrow in warning but he simply smiled serenely as though nothing untoward had taken place. He made no further advances and Sophie almost wondered if she’d imagined it.

  Almost.

  When dinner was over, the men retired to the library and the women went to the parlor. Sophie was roped into a game of jacks with the boys and found herself on the floor laughing at how bad she was at it. The ball kept getting away from her and so, rather than picking up any jacks, she was forced to catch the ball. Hearing a noise at the doorway, she looked up to find Richard staring at her strangely. She didn’t have a chance to ask why as Adam and Elizabeth gathered the boys up and took their leave.

  Andrew had escorted Christine and their mother, so when Miriam was ready to go soon after, he took them both home. Richard was the last to leave, and despite the early morning wake-up call, he lingered and waited for everyone to leave.

  “Sophie, would you join me on porch for a few minutes?”

  Sophie gave a slight nod. “I suppose.”

  Richard escorted her to the front porch and settled her in one of the big chairs. He sat next to her, and they spent a few minutes staring at the perfect winter scene in front of them.

  “What time do you have to get on the road?” Sophie asked, breaking the silence.

  “I’ll be leaving at four.”

  Sophie raised an eyebrow. “In the morning?”

  “Yes.”

  “Whew, that is early. Are you rid
ing, or taking a carriage?”

  “I’ll be taking the train.”

  Sophie didn’t really know what else to say. She felt a bit awkward and wasn’t altogether sure why Richard asked her to sit and talk with him. Rising to her feet, Sophie faced him. “Well, you should probably get going. Four o’clock is not very far away.”

  Richard stood as well. “Yes, you’re right. I should go.”

  Grasping her upper arms, he leaned down and placed his lips on hers. Sophie pushed him away, nauseous by the overwhelming stench of yet more alcohol on his breath.

  Where is he finding this stuff?

  “What are you doing?” she screeched.

  “I’m simply saying farewell,” he slurred.

  Sophie wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Well, I did not give you leave to accost me.”

  “Is that what I did?”

  Sophie scowled and turned to leave but he reached out, took both her hands, and placed a kiss on each of them. “I certainly hope we’ll see each other soon, Sophie. I won’t stay any longer than absolutely necessary.”

  Yanking her hands away, she rushed inside and up to her room.

  * * *

  James Emerson sat up and turned his head at the sound of his door creaking open. A young woman shuffled inside and he had a flash of memory.

  She smiled and made her way to the bed. “Good morning, sir. How are you feeling?”

  “You’re the one who found me, right?” he asked.

  Her light blonde head bobbed up and down. “Yes. I wasn’t sure if you’d remember. My name is Amelia Powell.”

  Her ice-blue eyes crinkled at the corner and James thought she looked like…

  Who? Who does she look like?

  He swore and rubbed his forehead. Nothing. He couldn’t remember anything.

  “Sir? Are you all right?”

  James nodded slowly. “Yes, sorry. I’m feeling much better today.”

  The black woman who’d been looking after him brought a tray and set it on the bed. “The doctor says you’s needs to get outta bed an’ walk around today.”

  James smiled with relief.