Read A Surrendered Heart Online

Authors: Tracie Peterson

Tags: #FIC042030

A Surrendered Heart (21 page)

19

Amanda maintained a watchful eye the remainder of the afternoon. She had hoped for an opportunity to steal away and speak privately with Blake, but Ellert had not given her a moment of solitude. At every turn he was at her side, clasping her elbow or placing a proprietary hold along the small of her back. She edged away every time she had a chance, but he wouldn’t be deterred. He appeared to find her attempts to withdraw amusing, and that further annoyed her. When she noticed Blake stop and speak to Paul and then head off toward the dock with a group of departing guests, her spirits plummeted.

A short time ago the guests had congregated to hear the formal announcement of her engagement to Ellert and had offered congratulations, but Blake had remained at a distance. Though she’d hoped at least to discern his reaction to the announcement, there had been little opportunity. The crowd had gathered around and blocked her view. How she longed for a few minutes alone with him to ask why he had appeared at her engagement party. Even more, she had hoped to discover why he’d left Rochester without a word.

“Ellert!” Her father strode toward them with a satisfied look on his face. “Some of the men wondered if you’d like to join us in the library.” He managed to make himself understood while holding his cigar clamped between his teeth, a practice Amanda thought disgusting.

For the first time since she’d come downstairs, Ellert appeared to weigh the idea of leaving her alone for a time. She momentarily considered encouraging him to join the men but then thought better of the idea. It would be wiser to remain silent and let him think his decision was of little interest to her.

“Do you think you can survive without me for a short time, my dear?” His eyes shone with perverse delight.

“I’ll do my best,” she said, forcing herself to maintain an even tone lest he think her overly anxious to be rid of him.

The moment Ellert entered the house with the other men, Amanda waved to Paul as he returned from the docks. At the very least, Paul should be able to provide some insight into Blake’s reappearance. She hastened down the sloping lawn. “Finally I have a few minutes to myself.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Ellert has joined my father and some of the men inside. I was wondering if you could tell me when Blake returned to Rochester and who invited him to the party.”

Paul gave her a sheepish grin as he described Blake’s surprise return to the Home for the Friendless. “I do hope you’re not angry. He asked to come along, and I thought—”

“It’s quite all right, Paul. I did want to talk to him, but except for a very few minutes, we had little opportunity. And now he’s departed without answering the questions I had for him.”

Paul gazed toward the river. “Unless he changed his plans, he’s not far away. He told me he was going to stay at the Frontenac Hotel tonight, since he’d missed the last train to Rochester.”

“I see.” Amanda considered this news for a moment, but Paul interrupted her thoughts.

“Might I ask you something?”

Amanda nodded, hoping it wasn’t a question about her feelings for Blake. “What would you like to know?”

“It’s . . . well . . . Sophie. Do you think she’s happy? I mean I know she didn’t want to come here, but do you think she’s otherwise happy?”

Amanda looked at Paul and considered his sad countenance. “I believe she is content. She loves being a mother and wife. I think this is probably the happiest I’ve seen her in years. Why do you ask?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I suppose I just worry that she . . . well . . . perhaps regrets marrying a poor preacher.”

Amanda smiled. “You two might have married under strained circumstances, but I honestly think Sophie is happy. I don’t think she’d change anything even if she could.”

“Amanda! Oh, Paul!” Sophie called as she made her way down the path. “Good, you’re both here. I didn’t know where you’d gotten off to.”

“I was just asking Paul about Blake. I wanted to talk to him.”

“Where is he?” Sophie asked, looking around.

“He’s gone to the Frontenac Hotel,” Paul replied.

Before Amanda could say a word, Sophie eagerly spouted, “You must go and talk with him before you go through with these wedding plans, Amanda. Paul and I would be happy to accompany you, wouldn’t we, Paul?” Sophie tugged on Paul’s sleeve, her eyes dancing with excitement.

“I wouldn’t want you to enter into a marriage to Mr. Jackson if you harbor feelings for another man, Amanda.” Paul’s voice held a hint of melancholy. “Such a marriage would eventually prove painful for both of you.”

“Well, the only feeling she has for Mr. Jackson is a deep loathing, so I believe a visit to Dr. Carstead is in order,” Sophie said without missing a beat. “This will be such an exciting adventure. Do you think we should ask Fanny and Michael to come along, too?”

Apparently Sophie hadn’t perceived her husband’s dejected tone. Or perhaps Amanda had misinterpreted. Sophie surely would be aware of a change in Paul’s demeanor, wouldn’t she?

“I think it may be wise to keep the number of people to a minimum. I wouldn’t want to attract unwanted attention.”

“Oh, of course,” Sophie giggled. “I do enjoy plotting clandestine meetings.”

Paul looked at his wife. “And how many have you planned recently?”

Sophie batted her lashes. “I’ll never tell.”

“Truly?” Without waiting for a response, he motioned toward the house. “I believe I’ll go and see if there’s any of that punch left from the party.”

“Wait a minute, Paul. We need to decide the details of—”

He glanced over his shoulder and appeared even sadder to Amanda. “I’ll leave the plans to you, Sophie.”

“But you will come with us?” she called after him.

He nodded and waved. “You can furnish me the details later.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with Paul. We were having such a wonderful time earlier in the day, but he suddenly seems despondent.” Sophie glanced at Amanda. “Did you notice?”

Amanda nodded, thinking about Paul’s question as to whether or not Sophie was happy. Perhaps that question had come about because Paul wasn’t happy. Amanda prayed that wasn’t the reason. “He didn’t seem quite himself. Do you suppose he’s tired?”

Sophie bobbed her head. “That’s likely all it is. Now, let’s decide on the arrangements. When do you think we should go to Round Island? This evening or tomorrow?”

“I can’t possibly escape Ellert this evening. I think early tomorrow morning would be my best opportunity. If no one sees us depart, Ellert will think I’ve decided to sleep late.”

“And if he sees us return, I’ll tell him we awakened early and decided to try our hand at fishing. We can toss in our fishing lines along the way so we won’t be telling him a lie.” Sophie clasped her hand over her mouth. “This is such fun. Just like when we were young. Remember those detailed schemes we used to make in order to annoy Jefferson and George?”

“I remember. But tomorrow will be different. I won’t be laughing if Ellert discovers I’ve gone to talk to another man. We need to be very careful,” Amanda said.

Sophie nodded and looped arms with her. “No need to worry. Ellert will never know.”

Sunday, July 16, 1899

As the sun peeked over the horizon the following morning, Sophie tiptoed to Amanda’s bedroom and lightly tapped on the door before entering. She grinned when she saw the mound of pillows tucked beneath the coverlet. “Hoping the servants will report you are still sleeping, I see.”

“Hoping to keep Ellert fooled for as long as possible,” Amanda whispered.

Carrying their shoes in their hands, they silently padded across the carpeted hall and down the back stairs. After slipping outdoors, they sat down and put on their shoes. Neither spoke a word until they were secluded in the trees alongside the house.

“Where is Paul?” Amanda hissed.

Sophie pointed at the river. “Follow me,” she whispered.

The sun hadn’t yet forced its way through the heavy pines, and once they’d taken to the woods, they clasped hands to keep from becoming separated in the dim light. Pinecones and tree branches spiked with pine needles crunched beneath their feet. Sophie waved Amanda to a halt several times in order to stop and listen for footsteps. They didn’t want to arrive at the river and discover they’d been followed. When they reached the clearing, Sophie could see Paul waiting in one of the skiffs from the boathouse.

“How did he manage to get the skiff without alerting Mr. Atwell?”

“He went down to the boathouse last evening and told Mr. Atwell he wanted to take a boat out early this morning. When Mr. Atwell told Paul that he would get up early and meet him, Paul refused. He suggested they tie the boat to the lower dock last evening. Mr. Atwell assumed Paul was going fishing this morning. He even put fishing poles and bait in the boat before they took it to the dock.”

A blanket of dew glistened across the sloping grass leading down to the dock. “Careful you don’t slip,” Sophie warned.

She smiled broadly and waved to Paul. He lifted his cap to signal he’d seen her, but there was only a faint smile in return. He’d brooded all last evening, avoiding her at every turn. She had hoped a good night’s sleep would improve his disposition. Thus far it didn’t appear it had helped. What in the world had caused such a mood?

After assisting Amanda into the skiff, Paul offered his hand to Sophie. Holding tightly to his hand, she carefully stepped into the bobbing skiff.

When he didn’t offer even the slightest acknowledgment, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He didn’t acknowledge the kiss or her thanks. Not so much as a smile or a twinkle in his eyes. What was wrong with him! “Did you have any problems when you left the house this morning?” she asked.

Paul shook his head. “I think it’s best if we remain silent. There’s fog, and you never know who might be out here fishing. We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.”

Sophie could feel the heat rise in her cheeks. She didn’t believe Paul’s admonition had anything to do with other fishermen overhearing her comment. He simply did not want to talk to her. She’d done everything in her power to prove she was sorry for acting badly when he’d sent her to Broadmoor Island, yet he now ignored her and spoke in an abrupt, hurtful manner. Was he attempting to show her how deeply she’d wounded him? She had hoped this would be a time of mending their differences. Instead, it seemed he was unwilling to forgive her.

Paul manned the oars with remarkable ease, and their silent journey soon ended with the three of them stepping onto the pier at Round Island. Several fishermen sat on the dock in their collapsible chairs, tossing their lines into the water. Paul stopped long enough to exchange a few words with one of the men before they proceeded to the hotel.

“Do you know that man?” Sophie inquired.

Paul shook his head. “No. I told him to spread the word that if they caught any fish they didn’t want, I would purchase them when we returned.”

Sophie patted his arm. “An excellent idea. I should have thought of that! I’m usually the one who comes up with the best way to make our schemes work.”

“Indeed,” Paul replied.

Normally Sophie would have considered the remark a compliment, but Paul’s frown canceled that thought. When they arrived at the steps to the veranda that surrounded the hotel, Paul stopped. “Sophie and I will have coffee at one of the tables here on the veranda, Amanda. You go inside and have a message delivered to Blake’s room that you’d like to meet with him in the lobby.” He offered her a gentle smile. “There will be no appearance of impropriety if you remain in public view while you speak to him.”

“Thank you, Paul. Say a prayer that all goes well.”

“I will,” he said.


We
will,” Sophie added. She waited until Amanda disappeared from sight and then followed Paul to one of the tables that lined the veranda. Once they were seated, a waiter hurried to take their order.

“Just coffee,” Paul said.

Sophie glanced across the table, but Paul had turned away from her and was staring into the distance. He hadn’t even asked if she’d like something to eat. Not that she was hungry, but he could have at least inquired.

The waiter returned with their coffee and disappeared as silently as he’d arrived. Sophie poured a dollop of cream into her coffee and stirred with a vengeance. “Exactly what is wrong with you, Paul? You’ve been in a foul humor since late yesterday afternoon. Have I offended you?”

“Have you done something that should offend me?” he asked in a manner that seemed guarded yet hostile.

Sophie looked at him intently. “I know I was awful in the way I acted about coming to the island during the epidemic, but surely you have accepted my apology and we can let that be behind us.”

“Are you happy with me?”

“What a silly question,” Sophie said, trying to make light of the matter. “Of course I’m happy with you.”

He swiveled around in his chair. “When did you plan to tell me about this?” He slapped the newspaper clipping onto the table.

Confusion combined with fear to form a tight knot in her stomach. She should have told him about the article. “Is that clipping the reason you’ve been so irritable?”

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