her lower lip for a moment before she went on. She spoke slowly, as if choosing her words with more care than usual. “You are both shrewd and observant, and for that you shall be rewarded with the knowledge that you are correct.” As if a switch had been flipped somewhere deep in her inner recesses, Rachel threw her hands up in surrender. Her tone changed drastically and her words came out in a rush. “I did meet a man—oh, of course I ‘met’ several men but we all know we are talking about a ‘special’ man, don’t we? Why wrestle over the finer points—we should just put it all on the table, don’t you think? A man—that is what you want to know about, isn’t it? Did I or didn’t I meet a ‘special’ man?”
Shocked into silence by a side of Rachel she had never seen before, Sophie nodded. She glanced at Louisa, who sat with her teacup halfway between her lips and the table. Her eyes were wide, round circles and for an instant Sophie contemplated urging the woman to place her cup back onto the table so she wouldn’t drop it onto her lap.
But Rachel kept talking, and there was no point for anyone to get a word into the discussion.
“Right—a man. Yes, I did meet a man. Oh, he is a wonderful man! A funny, handsome—at least what I could see of him led me to believe he is good-looking—well-mannered, funny—did I say that already?—superb dancing man. ‘Did I meet a special man?’ That is the question you have put before me, I believe, is it not?” A fast breath, not nearly long enough for either Sophie or Louisa to reply, and then, “The answer is most unequivocally yes, I did meet a man—a very special man.”
Folding her hands in her lap as if the subject was a box and its lid firmly and forever sealed, Rachel sat back against the chair. Her shoulders fell, and she sighed. She did not, by any stretch of the imagination, appear as one who had just met someone “special” ought to look.
Something wasn’t right. Sophie should have been paying more attention these past days. How could she have let Rachel get so Friday-faced? Someone—particularly her close sister—should have seen there was something on her mind!
“Dear sister, please…” Sophie searched for words of encouragement and comfort, and wished their parents weren’t locked in the library with the quarterly accounts. Mother would have known the exact thing to say, but as she was otherwise occupied it fell to her to calm uneasy waters—for there was no doubt, Rachel’s usually placid face was troubled.
She started a second time. “Listen, it is obvious you are upset over something—or someone—so why not just tell me what is bothering you? Perhaps, between the three of us, we can figure a way to wipe that frown off your face.”
Rachel hitched a sigh, but it came with the most minuscule grin.
“It is hopeless. Not even you and Louisa can fix this for me, Sophie, although I’m touched that you would try. No…nothing can be done.”
So frustrated she considered giving her sister a good shake in the hopes of getting the truth to tumble from her lips, Sophie asked, “What? What can possibly be so bad that it is, as you so dramatically put it, ‘hopeless’? Goodness, I have not seen you so long-faced since you lost your pet hamster when you were ten. What on earth is so awful, Rachel? What?”
“How can you be so dense? I’m sorry if that sounds rude, but it seems as obvious as the nose on your face what my problem is!”
Rachel’s eyes filled with tears, and she hitched a breath. She wouldn’t be comforted, however. When Sophie reached for her, she stood and walked to the doorway.
“Rachel—”
“No, I cannot bear it if you are nice to me again, especially when I am being so horrid. It—it—oh, it is just that I am in such turmoil. I have finally met a man who with no apparent effort at all on his part makes my heart skip in my chest, and I don’t even know his name! How ridiculous is that turn of
Shocked into silence by a side of Rachel she had never seen before, Sophie nodded. She glanced at Louisa, who sat with her teacup halfway between her lips and the table. Her eyes were wide, round circles and for an instant Sophie contemplated urging the woman to place her cup back onto the table so she wouldn’t drop it onto her lap.
But Rachel kept talking, and there was no point for anyone to get a word into the discussion.
“Right—a man. Yes, I did meet a man. Oh, he is a wonderful man! A funny, handsome—at least what I could see of him led me to believe he is good-looking—well-mannered, funny—did I say that already?—superb dancing man. ‘Did I meet a special man?’ That is the question you have put before me, I believe, is it not?” A fast breath, not nearly long enough for either Sophie or Louisa to reply, and then, “The answer is most unequivocally yes, I did meet a man—a very special man.”
Folding her hands in her lap as if the subject was a box and its lid firmly and forever sealed, Rachel sat back against the chair. Her shoulders fell, and she sighed. She did not, by any stretch of the imagination, appear as one who had just met someone “special” ought to look.
Something wasn’t right. Sophie should have been paying more attention these past days. How could she have let Rachel get so Friday-faced? Someone—particularly her close sister—should have seen there was something on her mind!
“Dear sister, please…” Sophie searched for words of encouragement and comfort, and wished their parents weren’t locked in the library with the quarterly accounts. Mother would have known the exact thing to say, but as she was otherwise occupied it fell to her to calm uneasy waters—for there was no doubt, Rachel’s usually placid face was troubled.
She started a second time. “Listen, it is obvious you are upset over something—or someone—so why not just tell me what is bothering you? Perhaps, between the three of us, we can figure a way to wipe that frown off your face.”
Rachel hitched a sigh, but it came with the most minuscule grin.
“It is hopeless. Not even you and Louisa can fix this for me, Sophie, although I’m touched that you would try. No…nothing can be done.”
So frustrated she considered giving her sister a good shake in the hopes of getting the truth to tumble from her lips, Sophie asked, “What? What can possibly be so bad that it is, as you so dramatically put it, ‘hopeless’? Goodness, I have not seen you so long-faced since you lost your pet hamster when you were ten. What on earth is so awful, Rachel? What?”
“How can you be so dense? I’m sorry if that sounds rude, but it seems as obvious as the nose on your face what my problem is!”
Rachel’s eyes filled with tears, and she hitched a breath. She wouldn’t be comforted, however. When Sophie reached for her, she stood and walked to the doorway.
“Rachel—”
“No, I cannot bear it if you are nice to me again, especially when I am being so horrid. It—it—oh, it is just that I am in such turmoil. I have finally met a man who with no apparent effort at all on his part makes my heart skip in my chest, and I don’t even know his name! How ridiculous is that turn of
Similar Books
