Page 1 of Choices of the Heart

Baltimore, Maryland

1876

Sophie Kingston couldn’t say with any degree of honesty that she was living her fondest dream. But neither was she truly unhappy. She’d lived all her twenty-five years in Baltimore, and, though her family had moved to Boston two years earlier, she’d been able to remain in the city she knew so well. She lived with a family friend, a widow of significant standing in local society and of even more significant wealth. Mrs. Millicent Archer had taken her on as something of an unofficial companion.

Sophie’s parents had abandoned all hope of their “odd” daughter making a matrimonial match amongst Baltimore’s wealthy and influential. She had never been courted or shown any romantic attention. Indeed, the only attention she seemed to receive from anyone in Baltimore society tended toward confusion and discomfort. Her family had all but abandoned the idea of her makingfriendsamongst that set. But Mrs. Archer had taken a liking to her. And Sophie liked her in return.

“Miss Kingston.” The butler presented her with two letters before sketching a quick bow and continuing down the corridor.

A glance at the letters indicated one was for Mrs. Archer, as the vast majority of correspondence arriving at their home was, but the second was addressed to Sophie herself. No one ever wrote to her other than her sister, Dinah.

Sophie checked the watch pinned to her dress. Three o’clock. Mrs. Archer would be in the sitting room, working on her stitching. Their days were very predictable. While Sophie had once imagined herself living a more adventurous existence, she didn’t dislike the somewhat repetitive life she lived now.

Mrs. Archer looked up as Sophie approached.

“You’ve received a letter.” Sophie held it out to her.

“Wonderful.” Mrs. Archer set aside her stitching and accepted the letter. After a quick perusal, she said, “It is from Joseph.”

Her only child, Joseph, lived in Wyoming Territory, though he still ran the family shipping business through telegrams, letters, and annual visits to Baltimore during the winter. Except, he’d not come as expected a few months earlier. His wife was pregnant and not feeling well. She could not have made the journey, and he’d not wanted to leave her.

Though Mrs. Archer had insisted she understood and was not upset, Sophie had seen her disappointment. She had been disappointed herself. The Wyoming Archers had visited the year before and had proven a welcome addition to the usually quiet household.

Sophie sat in the chair she usually did and opened her letter, leaving Mrs. Archer to do the same.

Dearest Sophie,

Mother sends her love and greetings. Life has been busy here in Boston. My William is positioned to win a seat in the state senate at the next election. Our time is filled with campaign events and appearances. Mother and Father are quite proud of him and eager to assist.

The letter went on for two pages in like manner: Dinah’s expounding on her family’s accomplishments and their parents’ subsequent delight and involvement. Her sister wasn’t arrogant or a braggart. She was sincerely eager to share her life with the sister the family had left behind. Dinah gave Sophie her only glimpse into the life they were building there. Without her.

Joseph Archer’s letters to his mother were always quite sincere and lifted her spirits. He could, in person, give the impression of coldness. But Sophie had been granted the opportunity to watch him interact with his mother and, more telling still, his wife and children. He had a warm and loving heart. And, despite having to forego his usual visit to Baltimore, he’d not neglected to write to Mrs. Archer.

“What is the latest from Joseph?” Sophie asked.

“His Katie is feeling better. The local doctor says all is progressing well.”

That was good news.

“His oldest has completed her schooling, as much as is offered in such an out-of-the-way corner of the country.” Mrs. Archer lowered the letter, her forehead wrinkling in thought. “She was such a good student and genuinely enjoyed school. I wonder what she will do now.”

“How old is she?”

A moment of quick calculation passed. “Emma must be fifteen. That is difficult to believe.”

“Time goes by very quickly, doesn’t it?”

Mrs. Archer sighed. “Too quickly, it seems. Not having them visit this year feels like missing a quickly-disappearing chance to spend time with Emma. Not many more years and she will be grown with a family of her own. I fear I’ll seldom see her after that, if at all.”

No matter that Mrs. Archer was active in Baltimore society and was visited regularly by her many friends, the woman was often lonely without her family nearby. Sophie understood that all too well.

Mrs. Archer’s friends had embraced Sophie, though their age difference was something of a barrier. And Sophie accompanied her benefactress to countless society events. She did not want for company. But she missed her family. She missed people her own age.

She would have missed being more herself, but that had not been permitted for a very long time. Over the years, she had been declared everything from an oddity to an overly free spirit. Her family had firmly suggested but never required she conform, neither had Mrs. Archer. But Sophie’s peculiar approach to life had not proven an asset in the eyes of Baltimore society. She had kept herself to more sedate and prim behavior since being taken in by Mrs. Archer. The last thing in the world she wanted was to embarrass the woman who had shown her such kindness.

“Joseph has mentioned the journey from Baltimore to Hope Springs is not as harrowing as it once was.” Mrs. Archer made the declaration in the tone one used when contemplating something beyond what one was discussing.

“He has undertaken it with little children,” Sophie said. “It mustn’t be dangerous or truly treacherous.”

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