The North Star guided sailors in the night. It allowed them to know which direction they were sailing. Sophie lifted her other hand and saluted the North Star, as she used to salute Captain Trenton.
“May the wind always be in your sails.”
Sophie needed to decide which direction she wanted to sail. And now, with the income left to her from Captain Trenton, she could choose. She and Mariah could afford a small country cottage or rented rooms in a city. She could invent and Mariah could paint.
But would she be happy?
The last seven days had felt like an eternity without Ethan. He had become her North Star. His light eclipsed everything and everyone around her. Just being near him made her happy. Without him, she felt lonelier than she’d ever felt before, even with Mariah at her side.
Sophie lowered the telescope.
Something had changed between them. Sophie would always love her sister, but she could sense that Mariah was keeping things from her. They were growing apart; or rather, growing up. They were becoming their own people, and although Sophie felt a pang of remorse, she didn’t regret it. It was time for Sophie to be Sophie and Mariah to be Mariah. Their destinies were no longer inseparably intertwined.
She heard the door to the roof open and was so startled that she nearly dropped her telescope. Sophie quickly stashed it back in its box before turning around.
Ethan walked outside carrying a gas lantern, light seeming to emanate from him. She longed to throw herself into his arms, but her feet would not move.
He placed the lantern on the brick parapet. “Did you miss me, Sophie?”
“More than you’ll ever know,” she whispered.
“I’m so sorry—”
Sophie forced her feet to step forward. “No. I’m sorry for the terrible words I said.”
“The truth is always terrible,” he said. “And you’re right. I’ll never truly understand what you and your sister have been through.”
She gasped in surprise. “Oh dear! Poor Mariah. You must have discovered her.”
Ethan seemed to be struggling not to smile. “She is a much better dancer than you.”
Sophie stepped close enough to give a playful shove to his shoulder. “I know. But that’s still unkind of you to say.”
He caught her hand and held it in his. “I’m sorry that I rushed you. That I was indiscreet in my attentions and allowed my sisters to assume things were more definite between us.”
“I do care for you, but trusting other people is difficult for me.”
Ethan kissed the back of her hand and Sophie felt strangely weightless.
“We have all the time in the world, just like your clocks,” he said. “There’s no need to rush into anything.”
“I’m still going to be an inventor,” Sophie said. “Captain Trenton left me a small legacy and I mean to pursue my dream.”
“I believe you,” Ethan said, twirling her around as if they were dancing. “You’ll turn the world on its axis, and I only hope to be by your side when you do it.”
“I would like that very much,” she said breathlessly.
Ethan gently pulled her close to him and with his hand smoothed back the curls from her face. Sophie couldn’t breathe.
“From the first moment I met you, I’ve been entranced,” he whispered.
“Then you’d better kiss me.”
Ethan lifted her off her feet and pressed his lips to hers. It was as if they were two parts of the same clock, in perfect motion together. One giving, the other receiving as they turned in small, perfect circles.
At last, Sophie pressed her hand to Ethan’s chest and he instantly pulled away from her. “I must catch my breath.”
“You should invent a device that makes breathing optional,” he offered.
“The very thing,” Sophie said. “But perhaps until I do invent such a marvelous device, we should breathe and talk about our plans. Mariah and I can no longer masquerade as the same person. And even if we could, my aunt only invited us for this one season.”
“I have a plan. You and Mariah can come stay with my mother,” Ethan said. “She could help both of you find the perfect positions … And now I think about it further, you ought to run away with me this very moment, and we’ll come back tomorrow for Mariah. There’s currently too many Sophies in this house.”
“Now?” Sophie said. “It’s pitch-black and nearly midnight.”
“The perfect time to run away.”
“I suppose it is more difficult to slip away undetected in the daylight,” Sophie admitted, and then clapped her hands together. “I’ve got it. I’ll run away tonight with you, and when we come back tomorrow, I can pretend to be Mariah.”
“It’s a good plan,” Ethan said. He held out his hand to her. “Shall we?”
Sophie went back to pick up her telescope, tucking the case underneath her arm before taking Ethan’s hand.
“You’re running away with a telescope?”
“It never hurts to be prepared,” she said. “Oh, and I need to leave a note for Mariah. You can’t run away without a note. It simply isn’t done.”
“Even if you’re technically dancing downstairs?”
“Especially if your doppelgänger is dancing downstairs.”
Ethan picked up the lantern by the handle and opened the door to the house for Sophie. She led him down the servants’ staircase and to her room. He didn’t enter but respectfully stood waiting in the doorway.
Placing the telescope on the table, Sophie picked up a pen and dipped it in the ink to write:
M.,
As you know, E. has discovered our masquerade. He has invited us both to come stay with his mother until we find suitable positions and a more permanent home. So you will no longer have to pretend to be me. In fact, I’m going to pretend to be you! Tomorrow, E. and I will come pick you up and he’ll introduce me to Aunt B. as Mariah. Once we leave, we can switch back and then we’ll never have to pretend to be each other again. I’ll be an inventor and you’ll be the most celebrated artist in all of England. I must go.
Love, S.
Sophie placed the letter on the table, then took a bonnet from the wardrobe and tied it on. She then covered her shoulders with a shawl and pronounced herself ready.
“I’ve never run away before,” Sophie confided in a whisper. “Shouldn’t I be climbing out a window or something equally hazardous?”
“I thought the front door.”
“That isn’t very dashing of you and we’d get caught. There’s a party downstairs.”
Ethan’s lips twitched. “Alas, I forgot my stepladder in my other coat.”
“Luckily, I have a rope in the wardrobe. I’ll climb down the side of the house into the garden. Then we can escape through the alley.”
Ethan nodded. “I’ll meet you in the garden. Please don’t climb down until I get there. I want to make sure you don’t fall.”
He closed the door behind him, and she opened the wardrobe, locating the rope at the bottom. She tied the rope in a knot on the bed frame and opened the window. Peering through it, she saw a man standing in the garden.
Ethan must have practically flown down the stairs!
Sophie threw her rope out of the window and then, holding tightly, swung one leg out and then the other. She lowered herself slowly down the exterior of the house, grateful for the protection of her gloves from the friction of the rope. Swinging to the side a few feet, she carefully missed her former adversary—the prickly bush. When she reached the bottom, she exhaled in relief.
“What in the blazes are you doing?”
She let go of the rope and turned. The man brooding in the garden was not Ethan, but Charles. “Why are you not at the party?”
Light spilled into the garden and Ethan stood in the doorway. Charles looked from Sophie to Ethan and back to Sophie with a scrutiny that made her feel uncomfortable.
“Are you eloping?”
“Of course not,” Sophie said defiantly. “I’m running
away.”
“Charles,” Ethan said, closing the door behind him and walking toward his cousin. “I have something to say of a rather awkward nature.”
“I know about Mariah Carter,” Charles said sharply.
Sophie was rarely ever surprised, but she was downright shocked for the second time that evening. She tripped over the rope on the ground and stumbled a few steps before grabbing Ethan’s arm to balance herself. “You do?”
“Excellent,” Ethan said, steadying her. “Sophie is going to stay with my mother tonight, and we’ll all come back tomorrow for Mariah. Please keep the secret for a little longer. We don’t want to give the gossips anything to talk about.”
“Like a young woman running away in the night with a single gentleman?” Charles said in the same disapproving tone.
“Blame that on your guardian,” Sophie snapped. “If she’d had the decency to invite both Mariah and me to stay with her, we wouldn’t have been forced to pretend to be the same person. And I wouldn’t need to be leaving in the middle of the night.”
“We’d best be off before we meet anyone else,” Ethan said.
Charles nodded, and Ethan briefly touched his arm as they walked past him and out of the garden. Sophie led him down the alleyway to his carriage on the street. Ethan handed her into the dark vehicle.
“Home, Winkler.”
Ethan climbed into the carriage and sat beside her. Sophie could only see the outline of his face from the gas lanterns on the side of the carriage. The carriage lurched forward, and Sophie fell into Ethan’s arms.
“I missed you so much, Sophie,” Ethan whispered.
She pressed her lips to his.
TWENTY-ONE
IT TOOK ALL MARIAH’S SELF-CONTROL not to weep at the party. Charles didn’t return to the ballroom for nearly a half hour after she did, and he didn’t look at her again until they stood by the door to bid the guests farewell. When he finally acknowledged her presence, she couldn’t tell if his expression held anger or contempt. Possibly both.
What a mess I’ve made of things, Mariah thought as she walked slowly back to her room. She schooled her face into a smile. She couldn’t let Sophie know that she’d betrayed their secret … twice. She opened the door and saw no sign of her sister. The bed was made, but a rope was tied to the corner post, and their window left open. Mariah saw a scrap of paper on top of the desk. She hurried over and read it.
She gasped. Sophie was gone. Mrs. Miller seemed like a kind woman, but Mariah could not help but feel a pang of regret at leaving. She would miss this house and all the books inside it. She would even miss Aunt Bentley and the opportunity to learn more about her mother. But most of all, if she was being honest with herself, she would miss Charles. Their talks about books. Their walks. And their adventures together.
She didn’t bother to undress. She climbed into the bed face-first and buried her head into the pillow, finally releasing the tears that had been threatening to come out all evening.
* * *
Mariah woke up when Adell entered her room with her breakfast.
“Miss Sophie, you ought to have gotten undressed last night,” Adell scolded, placing the tray on the table beside the bed. “Your dress is all wrinkled. Although, how you manage to get in and out without my help is a mystery.”
Mariah wanted to put the pillow over her head and hide from the daylight, but she couldn’t hide from her feelings for Charles.
“Would you help me dress today, Adell?”
“Of course, miss,” she said. “I’m always willing to help. It’s my job.”
Adell helped Mariah out of her beautiful—but very wrinkled—gown and into a morning dress of light green with a large white collar. After Mariah dismissed Adell, she sat down at the table to sip her hot chocolate and reread Sophie’s letter about leaving their aunt’s house. Aunt Bentley; Mariah cringed when she thought about how Aunt Bentley would take the news of their charade. Mariah knew she would be livid, but would she reject her as Mrs. Trenton had? Or could Aunt Bentley forgive them as she hadn’t been able to forgive their mother?
Mariah felt tears well up in her eyes, but she forced herself not to cry. If Charles was leaving today, then she needed to give Aunt Bentley the miniature for him. Mariah collected all her painting supplies and the art lesson letters from Mr. Ruskin and put them in the old carpetbag she’d brought from the Ellises’. She opened the table drawer and pulled out the small oval picture of her aunt. It was nearly done; she just needed to finish a few details. She dipped her paintbrush in the water basin that Adell had brought for Mariah to wash her face with. Then she carefully opened the black paint, dipped the brush in, and meticulously added the lace circles to the collar on her aunt’s dress.
When she was finished, Mariah washed her paintbrush and restored it to its place among her supplies. She stood up, resolutely breathing in and out. It was time to find out if her aunt knew the truth, and it was time to tell her that she was leaving today.
Mariah found her aunt in the yellow sitting room reading the morning newspaper.
“Sophie,” Aunt Bentley said in surprise, putting down her newspaper. “I didn’t expect to see you until the afternoon. You seemed quite done in after the party.”
“There is something that I need to tell you,” Mariah said.
Aunt Bentley shook her head. “There is no need. Charles has already explained about your invitation.”
Mariah pressed her palm over her racing heart, relieved that he’d kept her confidence.
“Do sit down, Sophie. What are you holding?”
Mariah sat by her aunt on the settee and with trembling hands held out the miniature. “It might be a little wet still,” she said. “Be careful that you only handle the sides for the next hour.”
Aunt Bentley delicately accepted the little painting. “It looks exactly like me!”
“I hope so,” Mariah said quietly.
Aunt Bentley brought it closer to her face and peered at every detail. She then placed the miniature on the side table.
“Thank you, Sophie,” she said. “I see that you’ve inherited your mother’s talent for art. She drew a sketch of me when we were girls, and Mama thought it was rather good.”
“I didn’t know that about my mother.”
“The less said about her the better,” Aunt Bentley said with an icy shift of tone. “She was a disappointment.”
Mariah didn’t know what to say in response and was relieved when the door opened.
“Charles!” Aunt Bentley called. “Don’t stand in the doorway. Come see the miniature Sophie painted of me for you.”
Charles looked from Aunt Bentley to Mariah as he skulked into the room. Aunt Bentley handed the painting to him. Mariah felt light-headed as he sat down between them. He was close enough to touch and how she longed to place her hand on his arm. To express her gratitude for his every kindness to her.
“Very fine,” he said after a few moments of quiet.
Mariah watched his face eagerly, but his eyes never looked in her direction.
Aunt Bentley seemed unaware of their constraint. “I was about to talk to Sophie about her plans to stay with the Millers.”
“I hope I haven’t offended you by accepting Mrs. Miller’s invitation without consulting you first.”
“Not at all,” Aunt Bentley said with a rare smile of approval. “It’s a prudent move on your part to secure a good match.”
“Mrs. Miller was also kind enough to invite my sister, Mariah, to stay with her,” Mariah said, trying to ignore her reddening cheeks.
“Your filial feelings do you credit, Sophie,” Aunt Bentley replied. “It was thoughtful of you to ask Mrs. Miller to include your sister in her invitation.”
Mariah looked down at her shaking hands and clenched them into fists. “Mr. Miller has already gone to Lyme Regis and escorted my sister here to their home in London. I believe she’ll be coming with Mrs. Miller today to fetch me … I’m sorry if our haste causes you any inconveni
ence, Aunt Bentley. You’ve been so generous to me, inviting me to stay and purchasing my clothes. I can’t thank you enough.”
Charles stood up, walking over to stare out the window. As if he could not bear to even look at Mariah.
Aunt Bentley wrinkled her nose and sniffed. “The Millers are fond of having their own way—which their fortune, of course, allows them to. I’ll have Adell pack your clothes. Did Mrs. Miller tell you a time, or are we to sit around all day at their convenience?”
“I-I’m sorry … I don’t know what time,” she admitted. “But before I leave, I was hoping to pay a short visit to Sir Thomas Watergate and Mrs. Spooner next door.”
“I wasn’t aware you were at all acquainted with those people.”
“We met quite by chance,” Mariah explained. “Sir Thomas is a great artist and has been so kind as to give me some advice on technique. I wouldn’t wish to slight them.”
“I suppose a short call would be adequate,” Aunt Bentley said. “Would you like me to accompany you?”
“No!” Mariah said, almost too quickly. “I mean, I really don’t think that it is necessary. I won’t be there longer than a quarter of an hour, and I’m sure you wish to speak to Charles privately before he leaves for New York.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “There is much to go over about the estate.”
“I’ll miss you, Aunt Bentley,” Mariah said, and was surprised to realize how true those words were.
Aunt Bentley sniffed and blinked several times. It was the most emotion Mariah had ever seen from her aunt; perhaps she was actually fond of Mariah in her own way. “Let us not get maudlin,” she said bracingly. “Pierce, the second footman, will accompany you on your call.”
“Thank you, Aunt,” Mariah said, a farewell hidden in her words. She took a step toward Charles but lost her nerve. “Goodbye, Charles.”
The Invention of Sophie Carter Page 17