So her Wednesday morning had passed without any time for Sophy to stop and think. Indeed, with all the excitement of the visitor, she had had little time to herself. Since she was used to hours alone each day, Sophy found the constant company to be somewhat overwhelming.
Now that her visiting was over, she headed back through town and toward the Old Mill. It was the opposite direction to the hamlet, but then, she had less chance of seeing someone who would want to stop and chat with her. She needed some time to walk and some space to let her confused thoughts go free.
She had started to outline her feelings in a very practical way, when her thoughts were interrupted by a noise that seemed curiously out of place in this quiet part of the town. It was coming from the pond near the Old Mill. Sophy started toward the noise, trying to puzzle out what it could be.
As she drew closer, the sound became more distinct. Sophy almost laughed aloud when she finally placed what it was. Someone was singing! A rich, baritone voice carried through the trees, singing a boisterous song she'd never heard before. She heard the words long before she saw who was singing them. He – for it was a he, of course – sang,
Ye gentlemen of England who live home at your ease
It's little do you think of the dangers of the seas
When we receive our orders, we are obliged to go
On the main to proud Spain where the stormy winds do blow
It was an upbeat melody that settled pleasantly in her head. But what struck her the most was the singer's air of joyous abandon. Farmers around here sang all the time at their work. But she had never heard a voice like this. No, that was wrong. She had heard this voice before. Once. Though it was ringing out in song, Sophy stepped around the final trees and made her presence known. And it was exactly who she had expected. A smile lit her face.
“Captain!”
The man whirled on her as on an enemy. He was startled from his song and ready to attack the intruder. But he soon recognized Sophy and his face lit in a grin that answered hers.
“Miss Wentworth!” Captain Croft's posture relaxed now that the threat was gone. “You startled me. I'm afraid I was quite carried away by song and forgot to listen for any enemy intruders.” They both laughed.
The sound of his laughter made her glow. Sophy spoke to the captain in a teasing way, as she might speak to a friend she had known all her life.
“I hope you do not consider me an enemy, sir.” Sophy smiled mischievously. “For I would hate to force you into battle and then rout you soundly. It might wound your manly pride.” She was trying to provoke him, she realized. They were alone for the first time since Saturday and she wanted to see what he would do. There was something roguish in his eyes at this moment that made her believe he would willingly enter into her spirit of fun and flirtation.
“My manly pride?” Captain Croft guffawed. “My dear Miss Wentworth, you have two brothers. Surely you must know that manly pride endures all. Indeed, in twenty-seven years mine has survived many a set down and lived to fight another day. There is not much you might do to wound it irreparably.” He was teasing her, playing with her words in a way that made her smile and know they were in harmony.
“Truly?” Sophy raised her eyebrows in mock incredulity. “We shall have to see about that.”
“That sounds distinctly like a challenge, madam.” He reached out his arm to help her down the small incline. Sophy took his hand, suddenly aware that the captain was without his coat and, in the heat of midday, had undone his collar and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. It was nothing she had not seen many times from the men in town, but those sights had never sparked the heat that now rose up inside of her. She placed her hand in his, aware of its warmth and strength, and stepped down to the bank. His sun-darkened skin made hers look pale, even though she was notoriously unmindful of her skin in the sun. The muscles in his forearm worked gently as he held her hand and helped her step down. The subdued strength made her feel secure, even in such a small action.
“If it is a battle for manly honor that you are after, Miss Wentworth, might I challenge you to a duel? I have only this moment been practicing my stone skipping. So I should warn you that my skills are at their peak. Should you accept, you will be at a decided disadvantage.”
Sophy was already looking about her for good skipping stones. “Think what you wish, sir,” she threw over her shoulder at him, “but I hold that it is you who will be at a disadvantage!”
“Challenge accepted, then?”
“With alacrity!” Sophy turned and gave him a small curtsey before they both set off again to look for stones. A few minutes later, and with pockets heavy with grenades for their mock battle, they met back at the starting point.
“All right, Miss Wentworth,” Captain Croft said with overly formal tones. “Let us skip our stones and see who shall be the victor and rightful possessor of 'manly pride'.”
“And who shall throw the first volley in our battle?”
“Oh, by all means, ladies first,” The captain gave an elaborate bow. The twinkle in his eye made Sophy laugh.
“I shall take my advantage, sir, and beat you at your own game.” Sophy pulled a stone from her pocket and wiped it free of dirt. She turned it over and over in her hand, feeling it to determine which way would make for the most advantageous throw. As she did this, she squinted out over the still water of the pond, calculating the best way to pitch.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Captain Croft broke in to her preparations. “This isn't a chess match.” Sophy saw the gleam in his eye. He was trying to goad her!
“I see what you are trying, captain, and I am determined that it will not work.” He raised his eyebrows skeptically. Clearly, he thought she would be unequal to a little teasing. He forgot that she had brothers who had done much worse.
“We shall see...” Sophy turned toward the water and expertly skipped the stone. It hopped along the surface – one... two... three – before it plopped into the water.
Captain Croft was nodding his head. “A valiant effort, I'll agree. But will it be enough to vanquish me?”
“There is only one way to tell, captain.” Sophy gestured toward the water.
Captain Croft made a big show of winding up, stopping to check his stone, crouching to check his angle, and various other entirely unnecessary preparations. Never once did he crack a smile.
“I know when I am being roasted, sir. And I refuse to rise to your challenge.” Sophy's eyes flashed and she turned her head as if determined to ignore him. Captain Croft only laughed.
“Oh, all right. You should watch, as I am about to best you.” He flipped his wrist and the stone flew from his hand. One...two...three...four! He let out a hurrah as Sophy pretended to pout.
“Merely one round, sir. I challenge you to another!” And so they passed time, trading good-natured barbs and taunts as they traded victories. After an uncountable number of throws, the captain laughingly collapsed on the bank and asked her for a truce.
“My dear Miss Wentworth, I shall admit that I am matched perfectly by your skill, if you will also concede the point. Or, I fear, we may have to remain here for the rest of our lives locked in our epic battle. We should soon fill in the pond with all of our rocks and annoy the wildlife!”
Sophy pretended to seriously consider this point. After a long moment, she spoke. “Very well, I shall concede that we are remarkably well-matched, but I reserve the right to a future challenge!” She sat down on the creek bank next to him as they laughed.
“Oh, bravo! A brilliant tactician! You have managed to best me and still save my delicate reputation and 'manly pride' into the bargain. A first-rate diplomat.”
“I have much experience, with two brothers of near the same age. Not to mention all the spats I must manage between the townspeople.”
The captain grew thoughtful. “I have noticed that they do all come to you especially with their stories and complaints.”
Sophy nodded. “It is an inheri
ted position. My dear mother, as doctor's wife, held it before me. Everyone came to her for her carefully considered opinions. My mother and yours were great friends, you know. Together, there was no problem they could not solve.”
“And now there is no problem you cannot solve.”
“You give me entirely too much credit,” Sophy smiled. “Most times the villagers merely need a sympathetic ear to listen to them. They generally already know the answer to whatever problem they have.”
“Ah, but do not discount your role as the sympathetic ear. Someone who may be trusted with all of life's problems and joys is quite a rare thing in this world. It is only the best people in our lives that may take that role.”
Sophy's cheeks heated with the praise. She had never met anyone who had observed her so closely and saw to the bottom of things so easily. She felt a mixture of joy at the recognition and exposure of something she herself had not realized. She did not feel entirely comfortable receiving his praise, so she answered him with an observation of her own. “You observe people quite closely, don't you? Even when you are speaking, you are also watching, are you not?”
“Perhaps,” Captain Croft grinned, “like you, that ability is something I have inherited. It has done me much good in my line of work.”
“How so?” Sophy was curious. She'd heard stories of his adventures and his childhood, but not much about him, and she found that she was intrigued by this man before her. Who was he? This man who was as comfortable singing aloud in the woods as being the center of attention in a drawing room. Sophy desired to find him out.
The captain considered her question. “Well, being on a ship puts one in the same company constantly. And we are not always friends to begin with. Or to end with, actually. There are many different personalities, and the smart sailors learn quickly how to read a mood from a twitch of the eye or a motion of the hand or the slur of a word. I have staved off many a bloody nose for myself and my fellow sailors by successfully navigating the turning tide of shipboard humors.”
Sophy had a vivid mental image of the captain diplomatically stepping in to prevent fighting, though sternness did not seem to sit quite comfortably on his shoulders.
“Navigating humors is a skill that has come in useful as a captain, I must say. Men can become very restless at sea, to put it mildly.”
“And you?” Sophy asked. “Do you become very restless at sea?”
A crease appeared between his eyebrows as Captain Croft thought carefully about the question. With a slight sigh, he answered. “I do love the naval life very much. I could not imagine myself doing anything else in the world. There is a freedom when you are on the ocean.” He seemed to be looking at something far away. “But yes, as much as I love the seafaring life, I do sometimes get as restless as my men. It is a relief to see family and especially to come home.”
They fell quiet, both occupied with their own thoughts. Sophy was considering how she might be were she on a long sea voyage. “I wonder if I would find myself quite restless in the middle of the ocean... I believe I should like to try it someday.” Captain Croft's delighted laugh carried out across the pond in front of them.
Sophy, a trifle offended, asked, “What? Don't you believe I should? Freddy seems destined for the naval life. Perhaps I shall convince him to take me, too!”
The captain, still laughing, said to her, “I would pay dearly to see the man who would carry you on a long sea voyage!”
“Now what do you mean by that?” Sophy asked indignantly, turning herself towards him. “Don't ladies travel on ships?” Sophy's dander was up at the idea that the captain thought her ridiculous. She had expressed a very personal wish and here he was laughing at her. She had taken him for a friend and now wondered if she had been mistaken. She was embarrassed at having opened her heart to him.
“Ladies are not supposed to be on board any of His Majesty's ships of the line, especially during wartime.” The captain spoke quite matter-of-factly, but Sophy was not appeased.
“They are not supposed to be, I notice that you said. But I believe the practice might be quite a different matter. Am I correct?”
Sophy saw that hint of mischief again in the captain's eyes. “You are correct. Yes, they are. The captain of the Baron – my first ship – had his wife on board much of the time we were at sea. And I know of one first lieutenant who brought his wife aboard.”
“There,” Sophy pronounced the word decisively, as if it proved her point.
“Two ships does not an entire navy make,” Captain Croft protested.
“No,” Sophy conceded, though her attitude toward the captain was still prickly, “but it does show a precedent for such actions. They are not unheard of. Therefore, I may safely follow that mold.”
“But you are forgetting one major point.” Captain Croft turned directly to look at her.
“Oh?”
“Those two ladies I mentioned were married women following their husbands.” The captain had emphasized the word as if it held some further significance. Married. Sophy's mind ran to Mr. Hollingson, who had lately come so close to a marriage proposal. She would certainly not be at sea if she married him. But what could the captain mean? He was watching her intently and Sophy felt that she was taking too long to respond. Her face became suddenly hot under his gaze. She had missed something and she did not know what it was. She was ashamed and intrigued all at the same time. It was an entirely new feeling for her and she did not know how to respond.
Sophy did not meet his eyes as she said, as flippantly as she could, “I shall have to marry a navy man, then!”
Her words hung heavy in the air between them with a significance she still could not grasp. While she wallowed in her confusion, Captain Croft spoke next, as if nothing significant had changed by their words. “Then I believe you shall.” The full force of his engaging smile was concentrated on her and the imagined awkwardness of the last few moments was replaced again with her curiosity about this man.
“Shall you ever marry?” She blurted out. Realizing that she had asked something intensely personal, Sophy blushed again. “I'm sorry... I should not be so forward. I am merely curious about a way of life so different from my own. I only wonder how it would be for a Navy man to marry. What would that life be like...” Sophy blundered on, trying to make up for her forwardness even as she asked herself why the captain's plans for matrimony would be of any concern to her. And yet, she wanted to know the answer.
“Do not worry,” the captain cut into her rambling. “I know that it is a question meant as one friend to another. To answer you... I hardly know. There is not much opportunity for meeting potential wives on board ship. Only the odd officer's wife, but stealing those is a behavior which is generally frowned upon.”
“Generally?” Sophy hooted with laughter that cleared the air between them. Captain Croft had started the question so seriously and then thrown in that ridiculous notion. “So in some instances it might be quite acceptable to steal another's wife?”
The captain was laughing along with her. “I fear for the fellow who tries it!” For many minutes this absurd picture kept them laughing. When they had sobered a bit, Sophy asked, no longer embarrassed by her curiosity, “So if you did manage to find a wife all your own, would you take her aboard ship with you?”
Captain Croft grew serious. “That would be a two-edged sword, I fear.” He paused. “I would hope to love my wife enough that I should want her by my side at all times. The separations of years-long sea voyages would be too hard a trial for us both, I think. And yet, I would also love her enough to want her somewhere safe on shore, perhaps to take care of our family.” He paused again, his brow furrowed in concentration. “It would be an infinitely hard decision for me to make.”
“But it seems to me it would not,” Sophy stated.
“Oh, really?” The captain seemed incredulous. “Please do explain yourself.”
“Yes, really,” Sophy parroted him. “You have neglected to take into accou
nt one major factor.” The captain raised his eyebrows. Sophy raised hers, too. “You have neglected to take into account that your wife – who you profess to love so much – is also a thinking and feeling being. Would you not ask her what she desires?” Sophy saw something change in the captain's face, a light appeared there.
“To be honest, I had not thought of that. Talking of an imaginary wife had me thinking only of myself. And only of my wishes.”
“But of course. It is an entirely human thing to do. We consider ourselves first – our happinesses and wishes – and all else second. Which, I think, is what makes marriage and families so trying sometimes.”
The captain nodded his head in agreement even as a contemplative look stole across his face. It was a moment before he spoke, and when he did his question caught Sophy off her guard.
“And what about you, Miss Wentworth? If you were married to your navy man who would whisk you away across the ocean, would you go? Dangers and all?”
“Without hesitation,” Sophy replied without thinking. He looked startled at her swift and decisive answer. Sophy was again embarrassed at her forwardness with this relative stranger. She felt the need to explain. “Is not a woman also allowed to pine for adventure and new sights? To desire escape and travel, especially with someone she loves?”
“But the risks...” The captain argued. “The risk of disease and battles and attacks and sinking. Would you not be afraid?”
Sophy smiled. “Oh, of course. I would most certainly be afraid. Any one – man or woman – would be.” Sophy paused to gather her thoughts. She had never been asked such questions about herself and was unsure how to answer. “But I am not so fragile as all that. I would have my husband there to share the dangers with me.” The captain smiled as Sophy continued her stuttering explanation. “I would, I think, be more afraid if I were forced to wait on shore for some letter every six months or longer to bring me news of my husband. I do not think I could live a life like that. I would not even consider that a life at all. Constantly waiting for bad news. My imagination could conjure much worse than I could ever encounter aboard a ship.”
My Dear Sophy Page 10