by Lily George
“You have a right to be angry, Brookes. But please, hear what I have to say.” Charlie was poised for a fight, his defenses rising. Brookes would likely throw a punch in a matter of moments unless he spoke quickly and cleverly to quash his anger.
“Your brother sent some hired minion to check up on the Handley family,” Brookes countered, his eyes blazing the same steely gray as the sword he carried into battle. “How dare you, sir? What makes the Cantrill clan—a passel of shopkeepers, no less—think themselves so far above the Handleys, who are nobility? How dare you question the lineage of my wife and her sister?”
“I don’t.” That cut about the Cantrills being shopkeepers aroused his ire, and he struggled to keep his own temper in check. “Robert was checking up on the Handleys and their refusal to support Miss Sophie and Miss Harriet after their father passed. He was looking after my best interests, but he did so without my knowledge or consent.”
“Are you under your brother’s thumb? Or are you a man?” Brookes challenged, poking his forefinger at Charlie’s face. “From what I understand, my sister-in-law offered to help you, so that you could cut yourself free of your mama’s apron strings.” His face contorted in a mocking grin. “And after she did all of that for you, you have the gall to allow your family to run roughshod over her—”
“Enough,” Charlie barked. He took a deep breath. Matters were getting well out of hand. Brookes was well on his way to inciting fisticuffs unless they both calmed down. “Sophie offered to help me, and I deeply appreciated her offer. She is the dearest, sweetest girl I know, and it was a dream come true for a wretch like me to even pretend to court her.”
Brookes said nothing, his jaw clenched and his hands doubled up into fists at his side. The situation was still precarious. He must proceed with caution.
“I am not proud of what my family has done, and I told them so in no uncertain terms. They know now that what they did was wrong—unforgiveable, even.”
The door to the study opened, and Sophie stood on the threshold. Her skin was so pale it shone with translucence, her eyes like wide reflecting pools of uncertainty and astonishment. He took two steps forward, ready to crush her in an embrace.
“Stand right where you are,” Brookes admonished him. Then he turned to Sophie. “Sister, I must ask you to leave. We are having a discussion—”
“It sounds rather like a fight,” Sophie replied calmly. “And I have no intention of leaving. Brookes, I appreciate all you are doing. You are a dear for defending me so. But you must know that I sent Charlie away. I behaved awfully to him. I broke our engagement.”
“Is that true?” Brookes asked, staring daggers at Charlie.
“It is. But I knew she never meant it.” He crossed over to Sophie and caught her around the waist. “Sweetest Sophie, I knew what you did—you drove me away because you thought it was the right thing to do. But it wasn’t. It was cruel and foolish. We are meant to be together, you and I. And I will never leave your side again.” He pressed her close, relishing the sight of her golden curls and dimpled cheeks. He kissed the top of her head reverently, drinking in the scent of her—a scent of violets and fresh moor air.
“I ask your forgiveness, Sophie,” he murmured. “I fought my love for you for too long. I was so hurt by being jilted, and so determined to be right, that I pushed you away at every turn. And you, my darling, returned each time, so full of forgiveness and love that it shamed me. When I found what my family had done and what Bradbury asked you to do—” Sophie squirmed in his embrace, hiding her face on his shoulder “—no need to be embarrassed, Sophie. You chose the right path. And I was determined to also do the right thing, and I have taken a journey of forgiveness. Forgiving others and asking them to do the same.”
He bent down, peering into her face. “Can you forgive me, Sophie?”
Unshed tears sparkled in her eyes. “Of course,” she whispered. “Do you forgive me for the awful things I said?”
“I never believed them for a moment.” He nuzzled her forehead with his lips. “I’ve already forgotten them.”
“Harrumph,” Brookes coughed. Charlie glanced up, still holding Sophie tightly. He had forgotten that Brookes was even in the room.
“So if I understand matters, it would be most unsporting of me to throw Charlie out on his ear?” Brookes queried Sophie, his eyebrows quirked in a rueful manner.
“Quite,” she chuckled.
“I suppose, then, that I should leave you two in peace for a few moments.” As he passed by them, he gave Charlie’s shoulder a brotherly slug. “Too bad. I was enjoying the thought of knocking you on your bum.”
Charlie threw back his head, laughing. “Brookes, I must ask your forgiveness, too, and Harriet’s. I must tender my apologies on behalf of my family. I know that both Robert and Mother are truly sorry for criticizing the Handley clan.”
“All is well,” Brookes replied evenly. “And now, I must go find my wife. I am sure she is beside herself with wonderment, and will want to know exactly what has transpired.” He left, closing the door to the study behind him.
Charlie led Sophie over to the settee, settling her on his lap as he wrapped his injured arm around her waist. “Sophie, before I can ask you what I have come to ask, I must tell you one thing. I fought my love for you for so long because I could not reconcile my desire for austerity with the need to provide for a wife. I was afraid I couldn’t give you the life you deserved while still following my life calling.”
“That doesn’t matter, Charlie,” she whispered, stroking his chin with the tip of her forefinger. “I don’t care for fine clothes or a large home. All the things that my mother taught me to value I realized long ago don’t matter a bit. What matters is that you opened my eyes to an entirely new world. I am a better person because of you.”
He struggled against the rising tide of emotion in his chest—gratitude, humble awe and an overwhelming sense of finally being at peace with the world. He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer—beseeching God that he would be worthy of this woman now and forever.
“I can finally ask you this question because the way has been cleared for me to have the best of both possible worlds—my work with the soldiers and my love for you. I am now an independent man, Sophie. My uncle Arthur has given me a living so that I might continue working with the soldiers. I can hold out no longer—Sophie, will you please do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
* * *
He said the words. The words she longed to hear ever since she first bumped into him on the rainy streets of Bath, and he had saved her from being lost and unprotected. And he wasn’t saying them out of a sense of obligation. He wasn’t saying them because they were pretending to be courting and matters went too far. He had come all this way and faced Brookes’s anger to say them to her, and her alone.
She trembled a little in his embrace. Love swept over her like a wave. How marvelous to be by his side for the rest of their lives, working together, hoping and planning together. Except—
“Your family must still object to me. Robert said—”
“Never mind what Robert said,” Charlie interrupted, squeezing her tight. “I had a long talk with my mother and my brother. I explained what you meant to me, how profoundly you changed my life. How working with you to benefit the soldiers was the purpose of my life—indeed, my calling. And how you had sacrificed everything—including that bracelet—to help make my dreams a reality.” He chuckled softly, leaning his forehead against hers. “Naturally, that overcame every objection they had.”
She leaned against his warmth, savoring the feeling of his strong embrace. They sat so in silence, broken only by the ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece and the beating of his heart against her ear. At length, Charlie murmured, “Sophie?”
“Yes?”
“Are...are you going to marry me?” His voice betrayed a hint of uncertainty. Oh, dear. She had been so wrapped up in the security of his arms that she forgot to say the words.
“Charlie,” she replied, gazing deeply into his dark brown eyes. “I can think of nothing I want more in this life than to become your wife.”
“Thank you. I am so blessed to have you, my darling.” With that, he lowered his head to hers and captured her lips sweetly. She returned the kiss with all the pent-up longing and warmth she had held for him in her heart all these long months. When they broke apart, he clasped her closer, and she laid her head back against his chest, relishing the closeness of her beloved.
“Charlie, where will we live?” His work took him to Bath, and yet she wasn’t sure she wanted to live there. Too many memories. Most of them bad, and most of them fairly recent.
“I don’t know. I was going to let you decide. My flat in Bath is, I fear, not comfortable enough for a wife and—” his face reddened adorably “—children. We can live anywhere you wish. Now that I am independent, we can settle where we choose.”
“I know your work is in Bath, but I feel I must stay close to Harriet,” she responded. “Now that she is increasing—”
“Harriet is increasing? That is wonderful news.” He grinned at her, a sweet, boyish grin that caused her heart to leap in her chest. “Of course you want to stay close to her during this time.”
“But how can we reconcile my need to stay in Tansley with your work in Bath?” Sophie wondered aloud, plucking at his shirtsleeve. “I don’t want to halt your progress with the fund, and I do want to work with the widows to start a sewing bee of sorts. What say you, Charlie? How shall we do everything we want?”
He sat for a moment, running his fingers over the top of her hand. She shivered a little at his touch.
“We could settle in Tansley for part of the year, and then go to Bath during the other portion to work on the fund,” he replied. “I could ask the reverend to help with managing things whilst I am gone, and perhaps you could have someone help with running your sewing bee. We could even give the reverend and your helper a stipend so they are able to help us while still earning a bit of an income.”
“That’s a wonderful idea, Charlie. I could appoint Lucy.” Lucy would be attending all the veterans’ meetings, anyway, if for no other reason than to pay a call on the ensign. “I was thinking today about how wonderful Tansley is, and how much it has become my home. Now I shall have the best of everything—my beloved husband, my family and our work that brings us such peace and joy.”
She reached up and kissed the rough stubble of his chin, and he responded by gathering her close and kissing her dimples. A discreet knock at the door, and they sprang apart.
“Sophie? May I come in?” Harriet called.
“Of course,” Sophie responded, tumbling off Charlie’s lap. They both stood and faced the door expectantly, Charlie standing protectively by her side.
Harriet pushed open the door, Brookes hovering in the background. “Charlie,” she said with a hesitant smile. “How lovely to see you again.”
He bowed. “Mrs. Brookes. You look radiant.”
“Such formality!” Sophie chuckled. “After all, he will be your brother soon.”
Harriet’s grin widened, her dark blue eyes sparkling. “Lieutenant, is this true?”
“Quite,” he responded. “Your sister has turned me into a changed man. Thanks to her, I released all the rankling bitterness in my heart, and opened myself to love. And all I can do to thank her is offer her myself—a very poor consolation prize, indeed.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Brookes grumbled from behind Harriet. She turned and smacked his shoulder playfully.
“What? Why strike me?” Brookes responded. “As far as I can tell, he has not even given your sister a ring.”
“That’s quite enough,” Harriet admonished, and enveloped both Charlie and Sophie in a warm embrace despite her round belly. She turned to Sophie, placing both hands on her shoulders.
“Are you still glad you posted your letter today?”
Her letter! Likely it would reach Charlie’s flat in just a matter of days. What an astonishing day it had been. She had woken this morning full of heartache and longing, and now—now she had everything she wanted. “Yes. It will be my wedding gift to my husband.”
Charlie was looking at them both, his brow furrowed, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “What letter? Did you decide to jilt me once and for all?”
“On the contrary. I threw myself at your head. Fortunately, I have a famous novelist for a sister, one who can help me craft the most romantic letters of our age.” Sophie winked at Harriet. “I am sure my missive will soothe your masculine pride to no end once you read it.”
“Then I cannot wait to receive it.” Charlie fumbled in his jacket pocket and produced a small box. “As my astute brother in arms just reminded me, I have a gift for you, as well.” He opened the box, extracting his grandmother’s ring—the ring she had worn so proudly for those few glorious days in Brightgate.
Sophie extended her left hand, and he slipped the ring on her finger. Unlike the glittering fetter the diamond bracelet from Lord Bradbury had become, this ring was a glowing promise of a bright future. She clasped her hands together, staring at the prisms of light reflected in the jewels.
“That’s better, Cantrill. Now, we should all sit down over luncheon and discuss what the wedding plans will be,” Brookes reminded them in his gruff voice. “After all, it’s quite likely that Aunt Katherine is already on her way to take over all the plans. If she finds that Harriet and Sophie haven’t even considered her dress, or that you and I haven’t seen to reading the banns, then she will be all a-swither.”
“Very true, John.” Harriet took his hand. “I believe Rose has already set out our repast in the dining room and even included an extra place for Charlie. Shall we go?”
“Indeed.” Sophie took Charlie’s hand, and smiled up at him. “‘Whither thou goest, I will go,’” she whispered.
“‘Thy people shall be my people,’” Charlie murmured, turning that same crooked grin on her that always reduced her knees to jelly. She was the luckiest woman in the world. She had her beloved, her family and a purpose beyond her own whims and desires.
Life was complete. She could ask for nothing more.
Chapter Twenty-Six
November, 1818
St. Mary’s church, Crich, Derbyshire
“Nervous?” Brookes joked, coming to stand by Charlie at the altar.
“A bit, yes.” There was no use hiding his feelings from anyone. Surely every person crowding the tiny country chapel this morning could see his shaking hand, his profusely sweating forehead. He patted it once more with his handkerchief and tucked the scrap of linen back into his pocket.
“Don’t worry.” Brookes slapped him heartily on the shoulder. “Just say ‘I will’ to everything the reverend asks you, and you will make out just fine.”
Charlie nodded. He cast a glance around the pews. Aunt Katherine sat in the front row, decked out in violet, plying herself with a silk fan even though it threatened to snow outside. Lord Bradbury and his two daughters sat behind them, the girls flaunting two gowns that Sophie had made for them during her last few weeks in Bath. Veterans and widows alike filled two rows within the chapel, their transportation from Bath to Derbyshire arranged by his lordship, who, it must be admitted, had become quite a patron of their organization.
Brookes grinned. “Try not to look so much like a green lad gawking about,” he admonished. “In no time at all, you’ll be wed and wondering how on earth you deserve such a glorious creature. I know. I felt the same way when I married her sister. Speaking of whom, I must check on my wife. I don’t want her on her feet all day when she’s in such a state.”
Brookes disappeared up the aisle just as Mother and Robert entered the chapel. Mother bustled up to him, the feathers on her cap fluttering as she scurried. “Darling, I have just seen Sophie,” she breathed, catching his arm. “She looks beautiful. Simply radiant.”
“Where is she?” Charlie’s heart beat a nervous tattoo a
gainst his rib cage. Surely the ceremony would be starting soon. He didn’t exactly relish being on display like this, even if it was his own friends and family eyeing him expectantly.
“She’s putting the finishing touches on her appearance over at Reverend Kirk’s house. I must say, it’s very odd for you to have two men of the cloth performing your ceremony. Wouldn’t one be ample?” Mother quirked her eyebrow and looked at Robert. “Don’t you agree, my boy?”
“I think it’s a grand gesture. Reverend Kirk has meant a lot to Sophie’s family, and Reverend Stephens brought the two of them together,” Robert replied with a shrug.
“Precisely.” Charlie smiled at his brother.
The two reverends entered the chapel at that moment, talking together cordially as they walked up the aisle. Mother gave his cheek a quick peck, then she and Robert both took their seats in the pews.
The ceremony must be about to start. For there was Brookes, escorting a considerably rounder Harriet to their pew, and an expectant hush fell over the assembled crowd. Lucy Williams, clad in a dark rose gown that Sophie had stitched, paused at the top of the aisle, smiling broadly. Yes, it was beginning.
His every nerve was trained on the lovely creature in white who walked slowly up the aisle. Her very presence drew all the air out of the chapel. He fought to catch his breath as she turned toward him and smiled. How unreal, how very unbelievable, that she was coming to stand by him, to pledge her troth, her undying love, for the rest of their days.
He was the luckiest man alive.
Reverend Kirk spoke first, asking Sophie in his kind but gruff old voice if she would honor and love Charlie for the rest of his days. Her voice, clear as a bell, rang out every response. “I will.”
Then Reverend Stephens took over, asking Charlie the same questions. His mind echoed Brookes’s advice, and he merely parroted “I will,” whenever the reverend paused. He could barely understand anything that was being said, as he contemplated his lovely bride with growing wonderment.