Lady Biskup sighed. “No, my love, but he’ll certainly be here before nightfall. Now run to your room and put on your warmest woolens. Lettie will help you today. We shall have a hot breakfast and then make our way to the Frost Fair. Blanche is still cross with me, so she won’t accompany us, thank heaven! But Jeanette and Fairmont will meet us on the way, as will Nicky and Ellen.”
“What of Jonathan?” Sophie asked her.
Lady Biskup patted her hand. “He will escort us, of course.”
Sophie scampered back to her room, and with Lettie’s assistance it was not long before she was able to descend to the dining room. There she found Jonathan at table, munching a piece of ham. His brows were knit and he greeted her with a somber, “Good morning, Sophie.”
“Are you unhappy?” she asked him when the footman had served her and departed.
He shrugged. “I’ve had another wretched nightmare about India. I wonder why these horrors have come back to haunt me after all these years. A harbinger of some sort, I suppose.”
“What happened in your dreams?”
He shook his head. “I won’t recount it—there’s no need to fill our minds with gloom and violence when we have such an entertaining thing as the Frost Fair to anticipate.” He smiled. “Nicky’s been here already this morning, pulling me out of bed to describe all the sights and activities. Somehow, I hadn’t suspected him of being susceptible to enthusiasms of this sort, but he’s filled with glee at the thought of riding a swing in the middle of the Thames.”
Sophie frowned. “What of Albert? Has anyone heard from him? Is he likely to appear suddenly and precipitate a duel?”
Jonathan gave his head another shake. “No, he’s run off with his tail between his legs. We’re rid of him once and for all, thank God!”
When everyone had finished their breakfast and been tucked into coats and mittens, and muffled up to their noses, Sophie, Lady Biskup, and Jonathan descended the front steps to the carriage that awaited them. To Sophie’s surprise the guards were perched on the back. They were heavily booted and muffled in furs, but she could still see that their skin was already reddened with cold.
The first stop they made was at the Bingham’s’ house, where Kathleen and Ferguson came running down the steps the moment the landau drew up to the door.
“Is this not the most exciting thing!” Kathleen exclaimed as she plopped down alongside Lady Biskup. “My mother pleaded with me to remain at home—‘I have lost a son,’ she said, ‘and my other daughter is removed from me; I cannot bear to lose my remaining child to chills and pneumonia.’ But when all was said and done, she could not ask me to miss the Frost Fair. It has been two hundred years since the last, and there will certainly not be another during my lifetime.”
“Of course, my dear,” Lady Biskup agreed.
“Mama’s maid, Florence, went out there with the Jerseys’ second footman last night,” Kathleen went on. “She said there were bonfires in iron barrels, which cast the most festive, flickering lights across the snow, and they did not melt the ice beneath them. Isn’t that remarkable?”
“I’ve no doubt the barrels were set on beds of straw which prevented the heat from reaching the ice,” Ferguson suggested as he sat down on the other side of her.
“And what prevented the straw from bursting into flame?” she asked him.
He shrugged. “I presume the snow kept it cold and damp.”
With Ferguson settled, the carriage moved forward again. As its wheels crunched over the ice, Sophie leaned against Jonathan’s side. He quickly drew her mittened hand through his arm and gave it a squeeze.
“Florence said that the swings are the things to see,” Kathleen said. “She said they are quite terrifying, and the effect of the cold air blowing across one’s cheeks is more exhilarating than can be described by mere words.”
Ferguson smiled at her and said, “Then we must surely take a ride on the swings.”
“Yes,” Lady Biskup agreed. “But the thing which most interests me is the printing presses at the fair. I shall have something printed to commemorate the event. Perhaps: ‘An adventure on ice,’ followed by the date—or something of the sort.”
During the remainder of the ride to the Althorpes’ house, everyone discussed the messages they would order from the printers. Kathleen suggested that ‘A memorable occasion’ would be appropriate. Sophie decided that she would order a bookmark with the words: ‘Will Wonders Never Cease?’
A closed carriage was awaiting them at the foot of the Englewood steps, and no sooner had the Vaile landau drawn to a halt behind it than the front door of the house flew open and Jeanette came hurrying out on Fairmont’s arm with Nicky and Ellen close behind them.
Nicky leaped into the Vaile landau. “Now, we shall change people about,” he announced. “Ferguson, you and Kathleen must climb down and I’ll settle you comfortably in my carriage. Ellen has a great many things she wishes to discuss with you about the weddings. Jeanette and Fairmont will ride with you, Jonathan.”
Jonathan nodded agreeably.
Under Nicky’s direction, Ferguson and Kathleen climbed out and Jeanette and Fairmont climbed in to take their places. Fairmont took the window seat next to Jeanette and arranged her rugs for her while they exchanged a great many smiles. Before long they heard a shout from Nicky, and the carriages began to move cautiously along the rimy street.
Sophie explained to the new arrivals that they were planning to take full advantage of the printing presses at the fair.
“If it is all as enchanting as we’ve been told,” Jeanette said, “I’ll order a bookmark and have it inscribed, ‘Jeanette Enraptured,’ followed by the date.”
Fairmont gave her a warm smile. “And I shall have a bookmark printed with the words: ‘Fairmont Enraptured with Jeanette’—without a date, however, as I expect the condition to remain unchanged throughout the years.”
Everyone murmured approval. As Sophie considered Fairmont, she was surprised to note that the cold weather, which had whipped color into his pale cheeks, had somehow contrived to make him appear quite handsome.
At that moment the carriage made a sharp turn to the left.
Jonathan put his face to the window. “As I thought,” he announced, “we’re approaching the fair. I can see it at the end of the street. There’s smoke or steam, or something of the sort, rising into the air.”
“Oh, let me see!” Sophie exclaimed, leaning across him. “Why, it’s true! To think that all this excitement and activity is on top of the water! We could all be plunged beneath it if the ice were to give way.”
She inhaled sharply at the thought and turned to Jonathan. “What if the ice should weaken while we’re on it? Is there a chance we could be swept to our deaths?”
“No,” he assured her. “If there should be cracking or melting, we’ll have ample warning.”
Sophie put her face to the window again and let out a crow of delight. “We’re there! At this very moment we’re about to drive onto the Thames—actually over the water.”
She drew back and huddled against Jonathan as the carriage tipped forward into a short descent and then leveled off again.
“Are we on the river?” Jeanette asked. “I believe we are!” Now she leaned across Fairmont and looked out the window. “Yes, yes, we are! And there’s not even a change in the sound of the horses’ hooves. I had expected them to ring hollowly, hadn’t you?”
“Yes, indeed!” Sophie looked out again and gasped. “Why, here are the swings already. They look like giant soup ladles tied back to back.”
“I believe that’s one of the printing presses,” Lady Biskup observed, focusing on one of the different booths and tents that were decorated with streamers. “Well, I am prepared to state that it is all most amusing. And there is a woman selling oysters, of all things. I shan’t eat any, though, as they appear to be quite unexceptionable.”
There followed a discussion on the advisability of eating any of the food that was for sale at the Frost Fair, Lady Biskup putting forth the opinion that one could not be too careful in one’s selection of victuals, especially when they were prepared by unknown members of the lower classes. She stated firmly that she had no intention of imbibing so much as a flake of snow.
“Oh, look how colorful it all is!” Sophie exclaimed as their carriage drew to a halt. “And there is Lady Camden and her son, Bertie, walking toward one of them!”
“I want to talk to that woman,” Lady Biskup announced and, leaning out the open door, she shook a hand at one of the guards. “You there—Stewart, isn’t it?—help me down. You must come with me at once.”
Jonathan nodded approval and the guard named Jim held the door open as Stewart helped her down. Then Jonathan gestured for him to accompany her, and the two hurried away, quickly disappearing into the crowd.
While the others were being assisted to alight, the occupants of the Englewood carriage came up beside them.
“Look over there,” Ellen said. “It’s an enormous wheel of fortune. Let’s all try our luck. I feel certain that today is one of the most propitious of my life.”
“Indeed!” Kathleen agreed, following closely behind her. “But I have only a few shillings in my purse. Will they accept such a small amount, do you suppose?”
Everyone gathered around the wheel of fortune, and it was quickly discovered that a shilling was an enormous bet to risk at the Frost Fair. All four young ladies experienced a sense of daring as they placed their coins on the number eight and promptly lost them. They soon tired of the sport after being obliged to relinquish three shillings in a row, and despite the urgings of the operator, who kept assuring them that they were undoubtedly on the threshold of a great winning streak, they moved away to a nearby booth that sold toys.
“Do you think it would be premature to buy one of those charming little wagons for the baby that Anna and Johnnie Aysgarth will have one day?” Sophie asked Jonathan.
“Yes,” he said with a smile, “I believe that would be inappropriate at this time.”
Jeanette, who had been examining one of the enormous swings, left Fairmont and came over to them, moving as rapidly as she could manage without slipping on the hard-packed snow.
“Come over and swing with us,” she urged. “Fairmont has obtained tickets for the four of us.”
Sophie tilted her head to one side. “I wonder if I should ride, after all. It looks quite terrifying. There is no swing at Vaile that goes nearly so high—not even the raggedy one in the old elm tree.”
“Now, now, you can’t turn craven,” Jonathan said in a soothing tone. “You’ve been anticipating this jaunt with so much pleasure.”
“Oh, please, Sophie,” Jeanette cried. “I won’t ride if you refuse.”
Eventually Jonathan, Jeanette, and Fairmont were able to coax Sophie into the swing. The operator seated her beside Jonathan, who put one of his arms around her—a gesture of such daring that Sophie peered anxiously around to be certain that Lady Biskup was nowhere in sight. The swing quickly filled and began to move.
With a shiver she turned and pressed her cheek against the front of Jonathan’s heavy coat. He enveloped her in both arms. As the great cradle swept up and then back, icy air surged over them. Sophie’s ears began to ring. They flew upward through space, were caught sickeningly at the top, and then fell backward again in a mighty surge. Sophie closed her eyes and clung tightly to Jonathan. Through his layers of thick clothing she could hear the steady beat of his heart against her ear.
Suddenly he loosed his arms and turned to call over his shoulder. “That’s one of our guards down there, Roger. Did you see what happened?”
Sophie drew away from Jonathan to look down at the snow. A crowd of brightly dressed spectators had drawn together around a fallen figure who lay twisted strangely on the ice.
The riders were swept upward again, and Sophie looked around her. She had one spectacular view of the river, twisting away from them on both sides of the fair, a ribbon of clean white snow between undulating tiers of dark buildings on the far side. But even these structures appeared fresh and attractive with their fluffy white blankets over them.
It was many seconds before the swing could be slowed and then stopped. Jonathan leaped out and, catching Sophie under the arms, swung her onto the ice after him. Then clutching her hand, he strode as quickly as the ice would permit to the downed guard’s side. Ferguson was standing beyond him, leaning forward with his hands braced against his knees, while Nicky knelt beside the injured man, pressing two fingers to his temple.
The guard lay motionless on his back, his head bent to the side and a trickle of blood dropping out of his nose, spreading a reddish-black smear on the white snow.
Jonathan released Sophie’s hand and went to kneel on the other side of him. “Jim?” he said, calling the guard’s name. When he didn’t get a response, he looked up and asked Ferguson, “What happened here?”
“I watched the devilish coward hit him,” Ferguson said. “He was a ragged little man with a beakish nose. Just ran up out of the blue and struck him across the face with a rod. Then he ran off into the crowd before I could apprehend him. We should call out the watch, Jonathan. I’ll give them a description.”
“We must get him home and to bed,” Nicky said, rising and brushing the snow off his knees. “He’s got a damned faint pulse, and he’ll freeze if he lies here for long.” He turned to the other guard, who had returned to the scene with Lady Biskup. “If you’ll find a conveyance for us, Stewart, we can contrive to get him inside. Then I’ll send someone off to find a surgeon who’ll be waiting for us at Vaile House.”
Jonathan got to his feet and stood for a moment with his hands in his pockets. From where Sophie was standing, several paces to one side of him and the other men, she could see that he was scowling. She started toward him, intending to put a comforting hand to his cheek.
“Psst, miss,” hissed a voice on the other side of her. “I’ve some news for ye, if ye’ll step back a bit.”
To Sophie’s surprise she found Agnes Baxter’s daughter standing beside her. Lovey was wearing a thick knitted cap that was pulled down over her ears, nearly concealing her face, but Sophie had no difficulty recognizing the tight mouth and sharp little ferret eyes.