Cold All the Way Through, But Warming

Morris

It had taken surprisingly little to convince Zachary that she needed to head to Florida for a week, for her health of course. New York was cold, dark and flurries of snow had set her nose to sniffling every time she set foot outside. She may have acted a bit sicker than she felt, but it didn't take much for her to act ill. She felt ill practically all the time, and she knew the cause of it.

The war.

It seemed as if that was all Zachary and Henry could talk about, and even Samantha wanted to talk about various battles when they visited for dinner. Sophie would sit and play with Adam, or knit, or even be feeding him, and Samantha would regale her with tales from the papers about men dying in the mud.

Eventually Sophie began to plead headaches when they visited, doing her best to avoid them and save herself the grief. It felt like grief was always nipping at her heels these days, constant worry about her brothers never far from her mind. It seemed every day she kept watch for someone from Henry's ships who would come over with a letter from Otto or Frederich, and every night they were in her prayers. They even haunted her dreams, and she had woken up more than once from a nightmare of Otto trapped in submarine as it sank or Frederich blown up in a trench, one of the men Samantha spoke so lightly about.

And then there was Zachary.

He had grown more and more frustrated with the business lately, which lead to him lashing out about little things at home. While he wouldn't tell Sophie everything, she knew enough to figure out the general story based on things he had said. The routes their ships took to Germany were blockaded, British ships waiting to capture them and turn them over to their cause. Sophie didn't know how many of Henry's ships had been captured, but enough had that he had forbidden any more ships to try to break the blockade. They could ship to neutral countries have their cargo transported to Germany that way, but it would cost even more.

Sophie hadn't asked if any of her letters had made it through, not after she had come across Henry and Zachary having a screaming match about the blockade.

Henry was convinced that Anastasia had been feeding information to her husband and that he specifically had been the one to lay the traps for them. Sophie could have told him better, Anastasia was terrified of any war talk and she doubted she spent her time plotting against him. More than likely her spare time was taken up by her own business, which seemed to be proceeding briskly. British contracts were good money, and easy to fulfill, but she had a good deal more of them than Henry did.

When he had brought up going to British agents and requesting more business, Zachary had accused him of abandoning the family they had who were still in Germany. Which had then led to the fight continuing on for hours, unsettling the servants and making Adam cry when Sophie went to see him.

But now, now Sophie was free of him for a week.

She had cried when she had bid Adam farewell, even though it would only be a few days. Rebecca had promised to send wires every day about how he was doing and Sophie knew Zachary would take care of him while she was gone. When the car had pulled up to the train station, he had looked at her with at least a little kindness in his eyes. "Sophie, you know I would come if everything wasn't so insane here."

She had squeezed his hand. "I know, but I think I just need a break from everything."

"Send me a wire when you're there, and call us. It will be rather funny to see Adam try and use a phone." He had kissed her cheek and sent her on her way. The Reichster train car awaited her, and her alone. No maids to tend to her, no servants to report back on what she was doing. Finally, finally she was alone and she could do as she liked.

And what she liked, was to find herself a lover.

When the hired car had pulled into the resort, tucked away from the cold Atlantic and embraced by the heat of the Gulf of Mexico, she almost jumped out in excitement. Men were everywhere it seemed, and all of them in uniform. Sailors in their whites, officers in khaki and blue, accompanied by families and wives. But many were alone, and she could have her pick of them.