The Indebted Earl by Erica Vetsch (love letters to the dead TXT) 📕

in control of her mental faculties. Charles hadn’t known what to expect of Rich’s mother based upon Lady Sophia’s letters, whether she might be doddering and vague. But this woman was kindness itself, even when he repeated the story of how Rich had suffered his wounds. “Will you see your family?”

Her reception and forgiveness heaped coals of fire upon his head.

“I will return to London and continue to assail the Admiralty to give me a new posting. I have family in Devonshire, though we are not close.”

His cousin, the jackanapes, had all but scuttled Charles’s naval career from afar. What had possessed him to try to kill the Prince Regent? Their uncle must be nearly apoplectic to have such a scoundrel as a nephew. The earl’s view of Charles had always been derogatory, but at least Charles had never attempted regicide.

Be that as it may, the odds of him getting a captaincy anytime soon were bleak. It was probably wrong to pray for another outbreak of war, but war seemed to be the only path back to a command.

“If you don’t get a ship, what will you do?” Lady Sophia asked. Her demeanor to him was perfectly proper but a trifle distant. He didn’t blame her. He doubted he would be as composed in her place.

“I will probably apply to the East India Company for a captaincy of a merchant vessel.” Though it would be a last resort. He was a navy man to his core. He had worked every day for over two decades to reach his current rank, and he wouldn’t quit without a fight. Captaining a merchant vessel would seem a flat end to a fine career.

“Have you no prospects on land? I would think you would have had enough of the navy and war. Rich felt it his duty to serve his country, but he intended to come home the moment peace was declared and never take up arms again.” Lady Sophia placed her hand on the stem of her goblet, rotating the glass and watching the lamplight wink off the ruby liquid inside.

Had she any idea what a picture she made?

Charles shrugged. “I’ve known no other life since I was a lad. I put to sea at twelve. Through study and experience, I made my way up through the ranks. It was a difficult climb, and I hope my career isn’t terminal at captain.”

“To sea at twelve?” Lady Richardson shook her head. “So young. Did you run away to join the navy then?”

“No, madam. I am the son of a sailor, and it was both his expectation and my wish. I am most comfortable at sea.” He paused, looking around the pleasant dining room. “However, your hospitality has its appeal. The food is better, and the company excellent.” He raised his glass to them, dipping his head a bit. It would be unkind to make them think he wanted to be elsewhere, though he most fervently did. He hadn’t discharged his full duty to Rich yet, and he wasn’t certain how to go about it.

When the meal concluded, the ladies offered to leave him to after-dinner port and cigars, but he didn’t like port, and he didn’t smoke. “I’ll join you, if I may. Or I can take myself upstairs to my room if you’d rather be on your own this evening?” He stood first and pulled out Lady Richardson’s chair.

“We won’t banish you unless that’s your preference.” Lady Sophia picked up the candelabra from the table. “It is our custom to spend our evenings with some reading and conversation. You may join us if you wish.”

He offered his arm to Lady Richardson and followed Lady Sophia across the hall to the drawing room. The candlelight created shadows that danced and jumped with Lady Sophia’s movements, and in her wake Charles could smell a light lemony perfume. Far removed from the smells aboard ship, to be sure.

As he settled Lady Richardson into a chair, he knew he should stop shilly-shallying and do the thing he had been tasked to do. It wasn’t in his nature to shirk a duty, and putting this particular one off as long as he had chafed. “Ladies, I had a threefold reason for visiting you. The first was to express my condolences and sorrow for your loss. The second was to relay to you how Rich came by his fatal injuries. The third still remains.”

Lady Sophia had placed the candelabra on a side table and now used one of the tapers to light the wall sconces. She paused, looking over her shoulder, the soft golden light making her eyes appear larger. She seemed to be begging him to say nothing more that would hurt her.

If only he had that option. He was honor bound to fulfill his promise to Rich. If only his friend had not given him this duty.

Charles swallowed and took a breath in through his nose. “When Major Richardson passed away, he left in my possession his sea chest. He charged me with returning those things to your keeping and delivering a final message.”

Lady Sophia’s hand lowered, and she paused before placing the candle back into its holder. “A message?” Each word was trimmed in pain but also eager longing. “I would have any word from Rich that you possess.”

“Major Richardson asked me to tell you that he was thinking of you, Lady Sophia, when he left this world. He asked me to tell you that he loved you very much.”

She inhaled sharply, her hands pressing against her midriff. Her lips trembled, and she blinked hastily, looking away.

He hated causing her more grief. Perhaps once the sharpness of her pain subsided, she would be comforted by her lover’s last words. Later she would no doubt be glad she had Rich’s things, but for now they would probably only remind her of what she had lost. “My coachman brought Rich’s sea chest to my room. Would you prefer me to bring it downstairs?”

Lady Richardson studied Lady Sophia, and