Free An Unexpected Love by Tracie Peterson, Judith Miller Page B

did, although I kept thinking of other things. My mind was not at all on the hunt, and I missed every one of my birds.”
    Sophie looked up rather innocently. She hoped he had been preoccupied with her but didn’t want to appear too eager and say so. “And what, if I might be so bold to ask, stole your thoughts from the hunt? I thought men very much enjoyed such pursuits.”
    “I enjoy a good hunt,” he said with a wicked grin that caused Sophie to tremble. “But it all depends on what I’m hunting.”

    Friday, November 5, 1897
    Sophie pointed to several locks of hair that had escaped their pins. “Veda, please arrange the pins so they will hold the curls in place. I can’t meet Wesley . . . ah, Mr. Hedrick with my hair falling in my eyes, now can I? Oh, I’ve so enjoyed our days here at Illiff Manor. Do you suppose we might stay longer, Amanda?”
    Amanda stepped to the dressing table and stood behind Sophie. “I’ll do Sophie’s hair, Veda. Mother sent word she needs you in her room.”
    Veda nodded, set down the hairpins, and headed out the door to help Aunt Victoria prepare for afternoon tea.
    Amanda looked at Sophie. “I thought you were miserable at the very thought of coming here.”
    “I’ve changed my mind. I find it quite appealing.”
    Their eyes met in the mirror. “He’s too old for you, Sophie. I think you should abstain from any further contact.” Amanda picked up a pin and began to fashion a curl.
    “Don’t be ridiculous. Many young women my age marry men far older than Wesley. He is only twenty-eight.”
    “I wonder if he speaks the truth. He appears much older. His hair has even begun to gray along his temples. Did you not notice?”
    Sophie bobbed her head, causing another curl to fall loose and drop forward. “He tells me his father was completely gray by the time he reached the age of thirty-two.” She swiped the curl from her forehead. “Are you going to arrange my curls or discuss Wesley’s hair?”
    Amanda jabbed a pin into Sophie’s tresses. “I simply do not understand your attraction to a man his age. And Mother tells me Mr. Hedrick has already been married.” She seemed to emphasize the importance of his formal name.
    “I know of his past, Amanda. Wesley,” Sophie said with equal stress on his given name, “was born in New York and wed Lady Illiff’s cousin, Eugenia. She died three years ago. At Lady Illiff’s insistence, he has once again begun to attend social functions. Three years is a long time to remain in mourning, especially for a man of Wesley’s age.”
    “Perhaps that’s what turned him gray.” Fanny clapped her palm across her lips and stifled a giggle.
    “I think both of you are jealous. Wesley is a fine man. Lady Illiff tells me he is quite wealthy in his own right. And he exhibits a gracious and generous spirit to everyone he meets.”
    Amanda arranged another curl. “He didn’t display a gracious spirit to me. In fact, he has barely spoken two words to me in all the time we’ve been here. Then again, I suppose I’m of no import to him.”
    Fanny quickly added her agreement to Amanda’s assessment.
    “I don’t care what either of you think. He is everything I could ever want in a man. He listens to me and takes me seriously.” Sophie thought he was probably the only man who did. He was possibly the only person, male or female, who believed her to show depth of thought and spirit. She knew this because he had told her so. She smiled at the memory and added, “He has shown me every courtesy a woman could expect from a suitor.”
    “Suitor? Mr. Hedrick isn’t your suitor. He’s simply a guest here, the same as we are,” Amanda said, tugging on a curl. “Do sit up or I’ll never finish your hair.”
    Sophie glared into the mirror, but Amanda didn’t look up from the curls she was piling atop her cousin’s head. Sophie wouldn’t argue with Amanda, but she knew Wesley’s interest in her went far beyond that of two guests residing