“Wonderful! Shall I take it now?”
The housekeeper let slip a smile, which lifted her cheeks and brought a sparkle to her usually stern facade. “I will have the lunch prepared and meet you in the entry in a quarter hour?”
“Brilliant. Thank you, Mrs. Spencer.”
The woman dipped into a curtsy and left, shoes clicking against the floor.
Sophie gathered her coat and reticule and arrived in the entry just in time to meet Mrs. Spencer. The woman provided her with a covered basket and offered use of the carriage and Bess’s accompaniment.
“No, thank you. If you’ll but direct me—I believe Andrew said it was rather nearby and I wouldenjoy the walk.”
The woman relayed instructions, and Sophie was off. Her chest loosened some as she stepped into the wan winter light. The day held a crisp chill, and heavy clouds hung low in the sky, but it was refreshing all the same. It was incredible to have purpose, even one so small as this. In the past three years of teaching at the Bristol Seminary, she’d had hardly a moment of respite between her duties there and the social requirements that came from staying with Grandfather. And later, with those that came from caring for him as his health declined.
Sophie nodded at a passing woman, then crossed the street, glancing to the side to gain her bearings before continuing on when something small but proportionately heavy hit her bonnet. Then another and another. She lifted her face to the sky only to have several water droplets splash in quick succession across her forehead and cheeks.
It was raining. Cold, wet rain that was quickly penetrating even the fabric of her thick coat. And as she stood there, staring upwards, it began to pick up pace.
She lifted her skirts, lengthening her stride. It could not be too much farther until Andrew’s office, but the sky suddenly seemed to open up entirely, dumping its contents and soaking her as effectively as if she’d been dunked in the pond near her family’s home. As the deluge continued, it became increasingly difficult to see. She might have turned around, but she would be equally lost going in the opposite direction.
A bricked half-wall named the next street, and she hurried up to read it, breathing out a short sigh of relief that it was where she needed to be.
Buildings loomed in front of her, great shadows in the hazy landscape, and though the traffic had certainly thinned—the foot traffic especially—she still had to wait as several horses pulling various equipages splashed water up the sides of the cobbled streets before running across to better see the signs above the shops.
Cold had begun to press her in earnest, seeking entrance into her very skin. Her coat was heavy from water.
Drat, but it was nearly impossible to see the painted words above the multi-paned windows. There was a milliner. And that might be a tailor. Should sheseek refuge in one of them, or was she close? She passed a dark area that must be a space between buildings and held the basket tight as a gust of wind sent a shock of cold through her.
She needed to take shelter somewhere. The hat shop, maybe; it was rather likely that hers was near about ruined.
Then a columned facade came into view, and relief doused her along with the rain. There it was.Sternam’s Bankstood out in bold letters above the Corinthian building. The heavy door resisted her pull as she attempted entrance, but she managed it with no small amount of grace.
Truly, it was no small amount—because there was not an ounce of grace to the way she leaned back and dragged it with all her strength, using her shoulder to prop it aside as she slipped, and slid, inside.
Water dripped from her person onto the tiled floor, and the large room within was still, despite having several occupants.
Men at various tall desks near the back wall stared unabashedly at her and her tremulous smile as she lifted her chin. She moved to the counter closest to her. “Good day, I am seeking—”
“Sophie?” Andrew appeared from a side office, and Sophie nearly melted with relief.
She stepped forward—sloshed, really, her walking boots having taken on water—and Andrew hurried to her, handing off a pile of papers to one of the men still gawking at her from his desk.
“Are you well?” he asked in an undertone as he stopped in front of her. His hands lifted for a moment, as if to reach out for hers, but then they fell back to his side.
“Rather wet, actually.”
A snort escaped him, and it brought a smile to her face. But the smile soon disappeared as a shiver overtook her. Rain in January was brutally cold, and the truth of that seemed to catch up to her in an instant.
“I brought you your lunch,” she said, holding out the basket.
The basket was drenched.
“Oh heavens,I am so sorry—I—”
“Come.” He took her arm, steering her through the room and past the dozens of wide eyes to the door he’d just come from.
Inside was a dark paneled room, the woodwork reaching halfway up the walls before transitioning into green damask wallpaper. A large desk sat in the center with a chair behind and one in front, and the back wall was covered in bookshelves. But the most beautiful of sights was the small fireplace on the south wall. She gravitated towards it, not noticing when Andrew slid the ruined lunch from her arm.
“May I take your coat?” he asked.
