by Erica Vetsch
Cilla colored, but she shook her head. “I’m not at all interested in the captain. I just thought he looked fine in his uniform. I wondered if you had noticed.” She stood and reached for her daughter. “Come, love. Time you were abed.”
Sophie waited until Cilla had handed over the baby to her nurse for the brief journey back to the dower house, and together they went downstairs.
“Sophia, dear,” Mother said the moment Sophie entered the room. “I know you’re disappointed, but it all worked out for the best. You’re home now.” She tilted her cheek, and Sophie dutifully went over and kissed it. “The Lord works in mysterious ways.”
Which was a phrase Mother only used when she felt the Lord’s ways lined up with hers. Sophie also dropped a kiss on Mamie’s cheek. “You’re looking well. Did you get a chance to rest?”
While they waited for everyone to assemble to go in to dinner, Sophie studied Captain Wyvern covertly, sizing him according to Cilla’s description. He was resplendent in naval dress, gold braid gleaming, white breeches, waistcoat, and cravat pristine. Dashing? It was hard to consider a man of his years dashing. He must be all of thirty-five, at least. And he had gray hairs at his temples. Of course, Cilla was a few years older than Sophie, so it stood to reason she might find the captain attractive.
Marcus entered the drawing room with Charlotte on his arm. He was bending his head close to hear something she whispered, and Sophie felt a lance of pain. They were so much in love, so much a picture of all that was possible in marriage.
Exactly what she had hoped for with Rich.
Would everything forever remind her of him and what they had lost?
Her brother hugged her tight. “I’m sorry you had to leave when it wasn’t your wish. And I wish there was something that I could do about it. I might be the overlord, but I cannot forestall the laws of primogeniture. However, I am glad you came home where I can keep an eye on you.” He tweaked her nose and winked, and she made a face at him.
“I’m not a child, Marcus. Will you forever treat me as one?” she chided.
He squeezed her hands. “I do miss your childlike exuberance. Circumstances have caused you to lay it aside for a while, but I hope it isn’t gone forever. The way you see the world and share your joy with others is a true gift. I know it will take time, but I hope the light will shine in your eyes and your heart again.”
Uncomfortable with his scrutiny and aware that everyone was listening on, Sophie changed the subject. “Marcus, may I introduce Captain Charles Wyvern, late of the ship HMS Dogged. He was a friend of Rich’s, and they were hospitalized together in Oporto. Captain Wyvern, my brother, the Duke of Haverly.”
The two men shook hands, sizing one another up.
“My wife tells me we are in your debt for providing assistance to Lady Sophia and Lady Richardson. I thank you for seeing them safely to Haverly.”
“I was happy to provide aid, little as it was.”
“With Lord Richardson stationed aboard the Dogged, I naturally kept up on her exploits. You’ve made quite a name for yourself. Well done. I should like to hear of some of your tales firsthand.”
Mother rose. “Let’s go in to dinner, shall we? It’s been a long time since we were all together.”
The captain held Sophie’s chair for her and took the seat next to her at the table. Mamie sat across from her, looking lost and weary. Mother held court through the first two courses before Marcus asserted himself.
“Captain Wyvern, now that you’ve recovered from your wounds, what are your plans? When I was in London last, the Admiralty was full to the rafters with naval officers. Will you join those ranks, or have you other endeavors?”
“I confess, I have put my name in for a command, should one arise. Until then I will need to find lodgings and weigh my options.”
Marcus leaned back as the footman took one plate and set another before him. “Will you be journeying to your family estate to visit your uncle?”
The captain lowered his fork, a crease forming between his brows. “I was not planning to.”
He cast a wary glance at Marcus, which sparked Sophie’s curiosity. She wasn’t surprised Marcus knew of the captain’s family. Her brother seemed to know most things about most people. He always had.
“I miss Devon.” Mamie spoke for the first time. “I was born and raised there, on the coast. I miss the sounds of the sea, the wind, the waves, the seabirds. I never thought I would leave there, but then I met my late husband, and he whisked me away to Oxfordshire. When he passed, I thought I might like to retire to a cottage by the sea in Devon.”
Such longing infused her voice that Sophie wanted to hug her. She’d never mentioned missing the sea before or wanting to retire to a cottage on the coast.
“I understand your homesickness for the sea, madam. I find it difficult to get to sleep here on land without the sound of the waves, or the creak of the rigging, or the piping of the watches.” Captain Wyvern smiled ruefully. “I confess, sleeping in a bed that doesn’t rock is a bit difficult to accustom myself to, and I have more than once considered hanging up a hammock so I could get some rest.”
After dinner, Mamie took Sophie’s elbow, pulling her into a corner of the drawing room, away from the conversation.
“How long are we going to stay here?”
Sophie searched Mamie’s eyes, trying to discern how aware she was and seeing only clarity there. “I don’t know. Our options are few, I should think. It’s either stay here at Haverly, which wouldn’t be my first choice but is awfully convenient, or do as the new baron suggested and find a cottage in the village.”
“There is something else we might do. Somewhere else we might go.” Mamie twisted the ribbon on her lorgnette, a wistful cast to her features.
“Where? Is there some other property the Richardsons own?” Sophie’s heart lifted.
Mamie shook her head. “No, not to my knowledge. It’s just … speaking of it at dinner brought it all back.”
“Brought what back, dear?” Sophie intercepted a pointed glance from her mother, indicating they were being rude whispering in corners.
“I miss the sea. What if we were to take a journey to the coast? I would like to spend some time by the open water before I depart this world.” Mamie shrugged. “And if we happen to find a nice cottage with an ocean view that might be to let or to purchase …” She let her voice trail off, but the longing was unmistakable.
Sophie’s mind bobbed and tossed like daisies in the breeze. A trip? To the ocean? Away from Primrose and not having to endure watching the new tenants remake it to suit themselves? Away from the hovering, smothering, albeit caring attentions of her family?
An escape held great appeal.
“That’s an interesting idea, Mamie. Let me give it some thought.” Though even as she said it, she knew she wanted to go. After so many years of waiting for Rich to come home, fearing he wouldn’t, of waiting for her life to really start, this call to adventure, however small, appealed to her nature like nothing had in a long while.
Of course, she would have to convince her overprotective brother and bossy mother that a trip was just the thing.
CHAPTER 4
SOPHIE AWOKE THE next morning, and for the first time since receiving word of Rich’s passing, felt a stirring of interest in what the day might hold. Mamie’s notion of taking a trip had occupied her mind into the wee hours, and it wasn’t until she’d committed fully to the idea that she’d been able to sleep.
Thanks to her brother’s well-trained staff, Sophie’s clothing had been unpacked and put away. She had wondered how her brother and sister-inlaw’s venture of training former prostitutes to be domestic servants would work, but seeing the gently steaming can of water by the hearth told her things were progressing well. With only Mrs. Chapman on staff in the house at Primrose, Sophie had taken to doing many household chores herself, an occurrence that would have her mother reaching for her smelling salts, no doubt. The daughter of a duke didn’t wait
upon herself.
Rich’s sea chest and box of personal treasures remained unopened at her request.
A tap on the door had Sophie shrugging into her wrapper and tying it quickly. “Yes?”
“Milady, I’m so sorry to wake you, but …” One of the young maids spoke softly as she opened the door. Her head poked in, her mobcap askew. “It’s Lady Richardson, milady.”
A throb of panic shot through Sophie. “What’s wrong?”
“She’s crying, milady. In her room. She’s most upset.”
Relief and concern collided in Sophie’s chest. “Is she ill?”
“No, milady. I found her in an upstairs hall, lost and near frantic. I told her where she was and that she was safe as can be, and I brought her back to her bedchamber, but she’s that distressed.” Furrows marred the young girl’s pretty, freckled face. “She don’t seem to be in her right mind. I left the tweeny with her, but Gracie is scared of the lady, and she might not stay.”
Sophie was away before the maid finished, running down the hallway in her bare feet, her nightgown and wrapper flying. Poor Mamie. Waking up in a strange place. She’d had such a good evening, Sophie hadn’t given it a second thought that she might become disoriented.
She skidded to a halt outside the open bedroom door to get herself under control. It wouldn’t do to discomfit Mamie further by appearing anxious. Smoothing her hair, making certain her belt was tight, she plastered a smile on her face.
“Good morning, Mamie. You’re up with the sun today.” She breezed in, motioning that the tweeny could go.
With a grateful bob, the youngster scurried away, her eyes wide. A feeling of misgiving settled into Sophie’s middle. It would be all over the manor that Lady Richardson should be shunted off to Bethlehem Hospital before cook finished preparing breakfast.
Mamie huddled in the window seat, her hands trembling, clutching a handkerchief. She squinted at Sophie, eyes full of tears. For a moment only confusion was there, but then recognition came, and her shoulders slumped.
Sophie knelt beside her and put her arms around the older woman, leaning her forehead against Mamie’s temple. “It’s all right, dearest. No harm done. You’re safe and sound, and Sophie’s here to look after you.”
Mamie sniffed and dabbed her nose. “I got lost. I didn’t know where I was when I woke up, and when I went out into the hall, I couldn’t find my way back. I feel like an imbecile. Why is this happening to me? What if I ‘go away’ in my head one day and I don’t come back? What will happen to me then?” She clutched at Sophie’s hand, swallowing hard.
“Shhh. Don’t distress yourself. You’re found now. And you’re not alone in being a bit disoriented this morning. I needed a moment or two to sort myself and my surroundings when I woke up. It’s been a long time since I awoke at Haverly Manor.” She eased her hold on Mamie and sat back on her heels. This was the first time Mamie had indicated she knew anything was amiss, and it broke Sophie’s heart. Gently she smoothed Mamie’s hair away from her face and squeezed her fingers. Mamie responded with a trembling smile.
Sophie avoided the question of why Mamie was “going away” in her head. And what might happen if she didn’t come back to them. The doctor had warned the episodes would come more frequently, and they would last longer. Eventually, Mamie wouldn’t be able to remember anything that had happened to her recently and would become fixated upon the past, things from her younger days, until finally she wouldn’t remember anything at all.
And along with this, physical frailties would increase.
But he had assured Sophie the process was long and gradual and had suggested she not alarm Mamie with what would happen in the future.
Stroking Mamie’s shoulder she asked, “How was your sleep?”
A smile touched Mamie’s lips. “I dreamed of the ocean. Of birds calling, and a fresh breeze, tangy with salt.”
Sophie hadn’t been to the seaside since she was a girl. The vastness had made her feel small and a bit afraid … until Marcus had taken her hand and walked with her along the sandy shore, letting the cold water break over their bare feet.
Pushing herself up, she took Mamie’s hand. “Let’s get dressed and breakfasted and see about making a plan. I would love to see where you grew up, and maybe we can find that little cottage on the shore and stay for a while.”
She played the part of Mamie’s maid, as she often did, helping her dress and fix her hair, and then Mamie did the same for Sophie back in her room. By the time they were ready to descend for breakfast, Mamie was calm and clear of mind.
“I loved taking Rich to the shore when he was a boy, but he did make me nervous.” Mamie took her time making her way down the main staircase, holding on to the rail. “Never a care for his safety. I found him halfway up a cliff, trying to reach a colony of guillemot, when he was but five summers old. Though what he expected to do when he got to the birds’ nesting place, I never found out. If he wasn’t climbing the cliffs, he was sneaking into the fishermen’s boats. I seemed to spend half my holidays trying to keep him safe.”
Sophie tried to imagine her dashing fiancé as a small boy, breeches stained with dirt, hair windswept, nose sunburned. The boy had become the man, adventurous, brave, with no care for his safety.
It was hard to think of all that restless energy and courage gone.
They entered the breakfast room, and Marcus and Captain Wyvern rose.
Charlotte said, “Good morning, ladies. I hope you slept well.”
“Yes, thank you.” Sophie seated Mamie. “I’ll bring you some breakfast.”
“Please, be seated, both of you, and allow me to fetch you each a plate.” Captain Wyvern remained standing, his serviette in his hand. “Your brother keeps a fine table. Much better than a breakfast aboard ship. I’ve already partaken of more than wisdom dictates.”
He filled plates from the chafing dishes. Sophie surmised that he didn’t overindulge often, being so lean. She met Charlotte’s eyes, which were speculative. Sophie hadn’t mentioned the true reason behind the captain’s visit. It was too private, and she still didn’t know how she felt about it. He clearly felt obligated to her and Mamie, and she could wish things were different, but it made little sense to dwell upon it.
“Thank you, Captain. Has my brother been able to prevail upon you to stay for a while longer?” Sophie unfolded her serviette and spread it across her lap as he set a laden plate before her. “Goodness, I’ll never be able to eat all this.”
“You should try,” Marcus said, crossing his fork and knife on his plate and sitting back. “You’re too thin these days.”
Sophie took a calming breath. He meant well, he really did, but if he felt the need to keep an eye on her, it implied that he thought her incapable of doing the task herself. She didn’t need someone to care for her. She was the one who cared for other people.
Like Mamie. The dear old woman picked up a triangle of toast and bit off one corner.
“The duke and duchess have been most kind, extending the hospitality of Haverly Manor, but I fear I must decline.” The captain drained his coffee cup. “I will be making my departure today.”
Mamie’s chin lifted. “When do you think we should leave as well, Sophie? I suppose it’s a blessing in disguise that we had to pack everything so quickly yesterday. It won’t take long today to get everything ready for our trip.”
“What’s this?” Marcus asked. He looked to his wife, but she shrugged and shook her head. His eyes found Sophie’s. “You’ve only just arrived. You’re not thinking of escaping, are you?” Though his tone was light, his words hit Sophie in the chest.
She was thinking of escaping. She’d been thinking of it most of the night. Living at Haverly, watching the deconstruction of Primrose from afar while fending off the mother-hen cluckings of her family as they wrapped her in cotton wool, would be unbearable. She would suffocate or go mad. Escape was the right word for what she needed.
She dabbed her lips with the corner of her servie
tte and prepared to stand her ground. “Mamie and I are desirous of taking a journey together. To the seaside, as it happens.” She held up her hand when Marcus looked ready to protest. “Mamie grew up on the coast of Devon, and she wants to see her home county. We both feel a trip comes at just the right time. We need a change of scenery.” Excitement flickered in Sophie’s mind. She’d not traveled much, but if she was going to go, she intended to make the most of the experience.
“I quite agree.”
Heads swiveled to Charlotte, who held her teacup in both hands, her elbows resting on the table in a fashion that would have earned her a reprimand from the dowager had she been present. Sophie shot her sister-in-law a grateful smile.
“Marcus, before you argue, hear me out.” Charlotte set down her cup and reached for her husband’s hand on the tablecloth. “As much as I would love to have Sophie and Mamie stay with us, I’ve tried to imagine what it would be like to be either of them. They’ve been removed quite abruptly from the home they cherish, and so soon on the heels of their bereavement. Though we welcome them with open arms, the temptation is for us to ask—far too frequently, I am inclined to think—how they are feeling, what we can do for them, are they going to be all right? By the middle of the first day, I think I would be ready to throw a few vases and dinner plates.” She nodded, raising her eyebrows to Sophie to see if she were in agreement. “They’re not proposing to venture to the Pacific Islands for the rest of their days. It’s just a trip to the coast for a few weeks. Two or three months at the most.”
“Exactly.” Sophie leaned forward, grateful that Charlotte had chosen to be her ally in this. “A change of scene for us, and a chance to breathe and think away from all the memories and sadness. A chance to make plans for the future. The sea air will be bracing, and Mamie can show me her childhood haunts.”