The Bride Price (9 page)

How would everything stay like this without
Aqua Net?

Elizabeth and Christine had brought their
gowns over to join in the fun of them all getting ready together,
so Sophie helped them dress. Elizabeth’s hair was a deep, rich,
auburn and perfectly straight. Women in the twenty-first century
would have been envious. She chose an emerald green velvet dress,
with matching satin slippers, and was also well endowed, so Sophie
didn’t feel as self-conscious, since Elizabeth seemed to be
spilling out of her dress too.

Christine’s periwinkle blue satin gown
complemented her strawberry-blonde hair and the dress fit her to a
T. However, she didn’t appear to be spilling out anywhere, which
seemed a bit unfair to Sophie.

There was a knock at Sophie’s door and Nona
poked her head in. “Elizabeth, Adam is here. Are you ready?” And
then, “Oh girls, you all look beautiful.”

“You do too, Nona,” Sophie said.

Nona wore an ivory gown with blue flowers
embroidered around the neckline and hem. Her dark strawberry blonde
hair was pulled up into a simple style, with matching blue ribbon
woven into her chignon.

Sophie’s heart raced with excitement, despite
her earlier reservations.

What woman didn’t like a good occasion to
get dressed up for? It’s always fun, especially when you have
girlfriends to share in the night
. She froze, suddenly
terrified.

She couldn’t dance. She had tried to learn
for the reenactments but was hopeless. Two left feet and all that.
The team would give her some other responsibility when it came to
demonstrate the old dances. What was she going to do? Would she be
expected to dance? Now she really did just want to shut the door
and lock out the world.

“Sophie, what’s amiss?”

“Will I have to dance? I’m really bad at it.
I have two left feet and I’m always tripping over my partner’s
feet, or stepping on his toes. Seriously, I suck at it.”

“Suck? What does sucking have to do with
dancing I wonder?” Nona asked.

Christine nodded toward the door. “Nona,
we’ll meet you downstairs in a few minutes.”

Nona followed Elizabeth out of the room and
gave the girls a few minutes of privacy.

“Sophie, don’t concern yourself. You won’t
have to dance. I don’t typically like to dance at these functions
either. It’s just not the same without Peter. You can be my partner
tonight and we will both refrain from any dancing.”

“Thanks, Christine, I really appreciate it.”
Sophie took a deep breath. “I think I’m ready now. Are you
ready?”

“I’m ready.”

“All righty, then. Let’s hit it!”

Christine frowned. “Why do we need to hit
anything, Sophie?”

“Never mind. Let’s join the party.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Sophie, deep in conversation with Christine
as they descended the stairs, hadn’t noticed anyone yet, however,
when she raised her head, she frowned. Consciously forcing the
scowl away, she replaced it with what she hoped was a serene smile,
as Richard made his way toward her. “Good evening, Mrs. Ford.”

Sophie dipped her head in response.

“Christine, you look stunning.” He took
Christine’s hand and gallantly bowed over it.

“Thank you, Richard.”

Sophie followed Christine to where Michael
and Nona stood. They greeted a handsome young man with red hair
reminiscent of Christine, and Sophie knew he must be Andrew. He
stood next to a woman, an older version of Nona, so she could only
be their mother. Andrew turned, leaning on an ornately carved cane,
and welcomed the girls with a huge smile. “Teeny, how are you?” He
grabbed Christine and chastely kissed her on the cheek. Andrew then
turned toward Sophie. “This must be Mrs. Ford. How are you handling
my sisters?” Leaning down, he added in a whisper, “They are
notorious for being bossy, so please don’t let them push you
around.” Taking her hand, he kissed it gently, and Sophie loved him
instantly.

“I’m holding my own, thank you for asking.
And please call me Sophie.”

Andrew reminded her of Lucas, and her heart
caught at the memory of her husband’s closest friend. The goofy
class clown, always up for a good time and ready to play practical
jokes on anyone within a five-mile radius.

“Sophie, this is our mother, Miriam.”
Christine greeted her mother with a kiss on her cheek and then
turned back to Andrew. “Andrew, thank you for collecting Mama. I
knew she wouldn’t get back from her afternoon tea with Martha
before I needed to be here.”

“I’m not dead, dear,” Miriam admonished, and
Sophie caught the siblings’ silent amusement.

The group walked through the foyer and down a
long hallway. Sophie had only been as far as the library and was
surprised at how long it took to get to their destination. The
hallway fanned open to reveal another foyer of sorts, and Sophie
tried to stay silent as she took it all in.

Marble tile, alternating black and white,
covered the floor. A wide stairway hugged the west wall and led to
a u-shaped balcony jutting out from the upper landing. Two large
doors on the opposite side of the stairway, and well over eight
feet tall, were open, and music wafted from the interior. Sophie
was swept with the group into the room and stood momentarily in
shock.

Standing on a large landing, she surveyed the
room. Easily able to hold a hundred couples, it was exquisitely
decorated. The woodwork ornate, but not overly so, complemented the
light blues and golds on the walls. Alcoves had been built
strategically around the room in order to provide a modicum of
privacy or rest, if guests needed.

A crush of people in beautiful costumes
danced below, laughing in celebration of the soldiers risking their
lives for the cause. Some of them would never fully grasp that
risk. This was Sophie’s happy place, a room full of Union soldiers
and beautiful women. The music, louder than Sophie would have
expected without a PA system, showcased a group of highly talented
musicians. Jamie would fit right in.

Christine distracted her by taking her arm
and didn’t leave her side all night, both of them managing to avoid
the dancing. Andrew was their ever-present escort and introduced
Sophie to everyone at the party, while acting the perfect
gentleman. Christine was also a wealth of information, having met
many of the men through her work at the hospital. She assisted
Sophie with a few of the more personal introductions.

Sophie survived dinner and enjoyed the
speeches honoring the men who were so bravely fighting the Union’s
cause. She wished there was a way to warn them all of what lay
ahead, but she knew it would be futile.

An hour into the celebration, Sophie began to
relax. Unsure how much of it was the wine, she decided not to
analyze it too closely, relieved that, for just this one moment,
she didn’t feel as though the world was closing in on her.

She stood off to the side to get a brief
moment alone and gather her thoughts, when all of a sudden a glass
of champagne appeared in front of her. Believing it was Andrew, she
turned to thank him, a huge smile on her face. Her smile fell.
“Have you slipped laudanum in this drink, Mr. Madden?”

“Sophie,” he whispered.

“Mrs. Ford to you.” She handed him back the
glass and started to walk away from him. Richard stopped her by
gently taking her arm. “Let me go. Now.”

“I have acted badly, and I want to
apologize.”

“You’re still touching me.” She glanced at
his hand. “I also smell something harder than champagne on you.
Perhaps that has loosened your behavior.”

He dropped his hand and gave her a slight
bow. Christine made her way over to them, a concerned look on her
face. “Richard,” Christine said with a warning voice.

Andrew also joined them, placing a hand on
Sophie’s elbow. “Sophie, have you met the Quinn family? Douglas and
I served at Shiloh together. He and his wife Gretchen are right
over here.”

Turning to him, Sophie smiled her deepest
smile. The one Jamie said could bring a man to his knees. “Why, no,
Andrew. I don’t believe I have. I would appreciate the
introduction.”

Taking his arm, she turned her back, quite
pointedly, on Richard, and heard Christine admonish him as she
walked away. “Richard, what are you doing?”

Richard took a deep breath. “I was trying to
apologize. Please forgive me.”

* * *

The party wound down a little after midnight.
Despite the small hiccup with Richard Madden, Sophie felt energized
and could honestly say she’d had a wonderful time. Michael and Nona
said farewell to a few of the stragglers at the front door.
Elizabeth and Adam stood with them.

“Andrew, thank you for being my ever-gallant
escort. I couldn’t have made it through the night without you,”
Sophie said.

Andrew beamed. He took her hand and bowed
over it as he placed his lips gently on her fingers. “It was my
pleasure, Sophie.” He kissed his sisters and then gathered up his
mother, leaving behind the last set of guests.

Sophie laid her hand on Elizabeth’s arm and
smiled. “Elizabeth, thank you so much for this incredible dress. I
don’t know how I can ever repay you. It is exquisite.”

“I believe it’s you that made it exquisite.
I’m so glad it got some use, it would have sat at the bottom of my
wardrobe otherwise. In fact, I believe I may have a few more I can
donate.”

“Elizabeth, I couldn’t. You’ve been so
generous already.”

“Nonsense, Sophie, it would be my pleasure.”
Addressing the group, Elizabeth said, “I think Adam and I are going
to make our way home. I wonder if the children have given the nanny
an apoplexy yet.”

Adam chuckled behind her and the family said
their good-byes. Christine decided to stay behind and help Sophie
with her dress, so the girls hugged Nona, said goodnight to Michael
and then made their way upstairs.

Entering her bedroom, Sophie froze, hand
flying to her chest as her face grew warm. The orange glow from the
fireplace enfolded her as she moved closer to the bed. The
shadowing on the walls from the lit sconces reminded her of the
power outage that hit her neighborhood during her first Christmas
with Jamie.

“What’s amiss?”

Sophie smiled. “Oh. Nothing, just
memories.”

“Good ones, it would seem.”

“Most definitely.” Sophie walked the room,
taking everything in as Christine stood quietly. After a few
minutes, Sophie shook herself from her fog and let Christine help
her with her clothing.

Once Sophie’s corset and gown were removed,
Christine made her way out of the room. Pausing at the doorway, she
smiled. “I’ll be in the guestroom down the hall if you need
me.”

“Thanks.” Sophie climbed in between warmed,
soft sheets.

* * *

Richard Madden sat in his office, staring at
the dark amber liquid beckoning to him from behind the glass.
Memories slammed through his mind, despite his earlier attempts to
vanquish them, but the Wades served nothing stronger than
champagne, and that just wasn’t doing the job. Wrapping his long
fingers around the neck of the bottle, he stood and made his way to
his bedroom. Sleep would not elude him tonight. Removing his
clothes between swigs of whiskey, Richard stumbled into bed and
closed his eyes. Sleep came, however, not without dreams.

“Richard!”

Turning, he saw sandy blonde curls bouncing
as his sister skipped toward him and threw herself into his arms.
“Hello, Lillian.”

Memories of fifteen years ago rushed back.
Caught between little girl and little lady, his ten-year-old sister
was his complete joy. Never without a smile, especially for him,
she worshiped him. “You’re home early.”

“I am. Did you miss me?”

Lillian nodded. “So much. Mama’s been sick,
did you know?”

Richard frowned. His mother was never sick.
“No, little bean. I didn’t. Let’s find her, shall we?”

Slipping her tiny hand into his, she pulled
him back. “No, we can’t.”

“Why not?”

“We will get sick.”

Richard’s heart raced. “We will?”

“Yes, Mrs. Johanson died already.”

“Son.”

Richard turned at the sound of his father’s
voice. “Mother’s sick?”

“Yes.”

Richard stepped onto the porch and followed
his father inside. “What is it?”

“Typhoid. She’s not going to live.”

“I must see her.”

Before his father could answer, they heard a
call from upstairs. “Mr. Madden!”

His mother was gone. Less than two weeks
later, his father met the same fate and Lillian lay in bed, fever
ravaging her tiny body. Clayton had returned from school for their
mother’s funeral and stayed for their father’s, and now the young
men were forced to wait for their sister’s. Richard sat vigil at
Lillian’s bedside as Clayton paced the tiny room.

“Dickie,” Lillian rasped.

“I’m here, little bean.”

“I am too, love.” Clayton sat on the opposite
side of her.

Lillian handed each of her brothers one of
her ribbons.

“What’s this, sweet?” Clayton asked.

“Please keep them and remember me.”

Richard choked back tears as he nodded and
took one from her.

“When you lay me in the box, will you put
Lucy in with me,” she asked, referring to the rag doll she was
holding. “I don’t want to be by myself.”

“Lilly,” Richard whispered. “Of course we
will. Don’t be afraid.”

They were well past the hope that she might
recover.

“Clay?”

“Yes, love, I’m here.” Richard watched his
fifteen-year-old brother gently lift their sister’s hand and lay
her palm against his cheek. He’d grown up so much in the past few
weeks; they’d both been forced to.

“Tell Rosie not to cry for me and that she
should stay away until this is done. I would hate for her to get
sick.” Rose Johanson was Lillian’s best friend and had been sent
away as soon as the threat had started.