Page 9 of Sophia’s Letter (Ladies of Munro #1)

I t was Tuesday. Sophia had watched the snow fall all day Monday and cursed it. She had had the entire weekend to ponder Tobias’s words. His touch. And now, his absence.

Why had she told him to return only on Mondays? Father was away for weeks yet. Every day was available to them. And, now that she had begun to come to terms with her past, she wanted her present to be filled with Tobias. She did not know how long this bond they had would last. She would grasp whatever she could with both hands. Sophia felt a recklessness return. As if she were once again a girl with her whole life ahead of her. For as long as possible, she wanted Tobias to be a part of it.

Then it had snowed. All. Day. Long.

Typically, she would have resigned herself to a week of waiting, longsuffering being one of the few qualities her narrow world had endorsed. But not today. This morning, when the fresh snow glittered under a clear blue sky, she had written to Tobias.

He would come. She knew he would. Nothing could possibly…

THUD!

Sophia whipped her head around. A splatter of snow clung to the window pane.

Katie had already jumped up and run toward it when another thud and a spray of snow against the glass caused her to duck instinctively. She straightened up cautiously and peered outside. A cry of delight erupted and she turned to her mistress, her voice filled with laughter.

“It’s Mr. Mannerly!”

Sophia’s heart beat faster at once.

“Go and fetch him. Tell him to come inside.” She had already begun to straighten her skirts.

A different sort of thudding emanated from the passage as heavy boots approached. George appeared around the door. His long, black hair—unlike their father’s perfectly manicured look—hung about his face in wild abandon. Sophia wondered if he still occasionally chewed on the ends, as he had done as a boy.

“I say!” he declared. “Your chap gave me quite the start! I was in my room upstairs and botched a letter I was writing. I shall have to begin again.” He held up a hand almost as slender as her own, a smear of ink on the tips of his thumb and forefinger.

“Sorry, George. Tobias meant no harm.”

“Of course not,” her brother answered good-naturedly. “Still, he deserves to be punished. Especially if we have moved on to the familiarity of first names already.” He patted his pockets in an absentminded way. “I wonder where my gloves are?”

Sophia’s eyes widened. “What are you going to do?”

“Well, I clearly can’t get back to my duties until I have shown your young fellow how to throw a snowball properly.” George winked. “Let’s see if he can hit a moving target.”

“Ooo! Can I come too?” squealed a voice behind him. George stepped to the side and revealed young Bess, who was clapping her hands, her plump cheeks glowing with anticipation.

“I don’t see why not,” George replied. “In fact, let’s collect Henry and Adriana to help us man the battle stations.”

“Hey, that’s not fair!” exclaimed Sophia. “You can’t just run off and have fun with Tobias while I’m stuck here in this room. He came to see me , after all.”

George hesitated. “I’m certain he will spend several hours with you, Fee. Just give us twenty minutes.”

Sophia folded her arms. “Absolutely not! You’re taking me with you.”

Her brother’s expression grew serious. “Come on, Fee, you know we can’t do that. Father would have our hides.”

“He’s not here now,” Sophia retorted stubbornly. “Besides, if you can keep it secret that Tobias came to visit, a snowball fight should be no different.”

“But it is. This could make you ill.”

“George, what is the point of being alive if I’m not actually living?”

Her brother was silent.

“I promise to bundle up warmly.”

No answer.

“If you don’t do this, I shall tell Papa you let me go out in the carriage when it was snowing.”

George’s mouth flew open. “You little horror! I’d forgotten what an absolute tyrant you could be. I see it hasn’t taken you long to return to old habits.”

Sophia grinned triumphantly. “Shall I call a footman, or will you do the honors?”

“I’ll send for a footman,” George grumbled. “But you will sit upon a chair and keep a rug under your feet.”

“Of course,” Sophia answered meekly. “Whatever you say.”

Her brother gave her a look that suggested he wasn’t fooled for a second. “I have a feeling we haven’t seen the last of your mischief, Fee. Do be gentle with us. We are out of practice, old girl.”

Sophia sucked in her breath in pretended indignation. “You will pay for that, George! Old girl , indeed! I shall hurl my first snowball at your swollen head.”

“I’m not afraid. You throw like a girl.” George laughed over his shoulder as he strode out of the room.

*

Outside, Tobias gathered Sophia to himself the moment the footman lowered her feet to the ground. She clung to him rather more than she needed to, waiting for the chair to be brought for her at George’s insistence.

“You certainly know how to make an entrance,” she whispered into his warm neck as she nuzzled closer.

“As do you. I had not expected to have you join me in this chill. It is safe for you, I hope? You do not take unnecessary risks?” He stroked her flushed cheeks with the back of his fingers.

“On the contrary. It will do me the world of good. I can’t remember when last I have played outside with my family.”

Tobias looked up at Adriana, who was rapidly building a mound of snowballs for her arsenal. “I suspect it will be a fearsome battle. Should you not watch from a distance?’

“No, the general should lead the charge.”

“I see.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a lopsided grin. “I am to be conscripted into your service.”

“You object?”

“Oh, no, I am more than willing to die for you.”

Sophia’s smile vanished. “I need no sacrifice of that nature,” she said stiffly.

Tobias rapped his knuckles against his forehead. “I am such a dolt! I chose those words very poorly indeed.” His hand returned to hers. “Forgive me, Dearest. I have spoken my thoughts before they are well formed. It remains a fault I seem unable to master.” His head hung low with shame.

The comment still smarted. Still, Sophia was willing to let it go. He had meant nothing by it. It belonged with sorrows of the past. Best they were left in the past. Besides, Adriana was already building a wall of snow for her defenses. There was no time to waste.

“Come on,” she directed as she lowered herself onto the seat the footman had just delivered. “We shall catch them off guard. Adriana first. Her eyes are not upon the enemy.”

Tobias grabbed fistfuls of snow and formed them quickly with his gloved hands, a small pile of ammunition accumulating beside the chair, within Sophia’s reach. With several more stacked in his palm, he took a stand. Lifting his knee, he raised his arm up, elbow retracted, then released his first volley at Adriana’s unsuspecting back.

She shrieked with surprise and spun around to identify her attacker. “Oh, so it’s to be war with the Mannerlys. To me, Grants! Defend the family honor!”

A barrage of snowy projectiles launched from all directions. Tobias twisted around and planted his body in front of Sophia, shielding her from the worst of it. A cascade of snow slid from his coat.

“Step aside, quickly!” yelled the ungrateful Sophia. As he did so, she threw a single shot at stocky, little Bess, who was nearest, and whose billowing cloak made her an easy target. The weak attempt was nevertheless successful and Sophia laughed breathlessly as the rest of her siblings renewed their attack.

Once again, Tobias absorbed the onslaught, his face stoic, his eyes fixed upon his precious charge. Thump, thump, thump . The snowballs landed on his back, one knocking his hat from his head. His rumpled curls fell free and, for a moment, Sophia forgot the battle. She gazed at the handsome man before her, his blue eyes determined, his collar filled with snow, which melted down his warm neck, his messy hair calling for the touch of her fingers.

More snow hit her valiant protector.

“Mercy!” Sophia cried. “It is four against two. And our general is incapacitated. We need reinforcements.” She coughed a little as she said this.

There was an abrupt ceasefire.

George crossed the battlefield. “We yield. It is time to go indoors.”

“But we have barely begun,” complained Sophia.

“And already it affects you,” George replied sternly.

“I am perfectly fine.” Sophia sulked, trying to suppress a cough and failing.

“Then take pity on poor Mr. Mannerly, who has had the worst of it. He needs a warm fire and a cup of hot cocoa as much as you do.” He beckoned to the footman before she could protest further.

Sophia looked upon her brave soldier—his coat wet with melting snow, his hair starting to drip—and relented.

“I release you from your commission,” she declared. “You will accompany me to the barracks for sustenance and”—she offered him a most particular tilt of the head—“further reward.”

“Hmm,” George added dryly, “I shall have Katie tend upon you. Just to make sure the fire is not too hot.”

“Yes.” Adriana smirked as she trudged past them in the snow. “We wouldn’t want the fire to get too hot.”

“I don’t understand,” Bess inquired as she took Adriana’s arm. “Sophia has always liked the fire to be hot. Father complains she uses up the coal faster than any of us.”

Adriana patted her little sister’s hand. “You are right. As ladies get older, they prefer a, ahem, warmer fire. Give it time. You will see. However, it’s always best to avoid the dangers of too much heat. Isn’t that so, George?”

George and Henry looked straight ahead with great determination as they marched back to the house, although Sophia was certain Henry stifled a brief snort. Then a footman lifted her lightly into the air. She threw her arms around the man’s shoulders, wishing it could be Tobias who carried her off instead.

The truth was, she knew he never could. But that was a problem for another day.