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

and more windows than he could count. The place must run to sixty rooms.

Lady Sophia had grown up here, a daughter of this house. This mansion was as familiar to her as the Dogged was to him.

And he had offered her financial help? When her brother owned all this? What a fool he had been. Major Richardson had rarely mentioned Lady Sophia’s family, and certainly not that they lived in such splendor. Had she been laughing up her sleeve when he inquired after her financial well-being?

As they pulled to a stop, he composed his wits. He would deliver the women into the keeping of the duke, renew his offer of help in any way he could, even though he could see she needed nothing from the likes of him, and be on his way.

He had fulfilled his duty to Rich as much as he was able, and he would have to be satisfied with that.

Though he didn’t feel satisfied. The debt he owed Lady Sophia was large, and simply carrying a few boxes and handing her off to her brother didn’t seem enough.

He helped her from the coach and turned back for Lady Richardson. As Lady Sophia mounted the steps, one of the huge doors opened and a somberly dressed man appeared.

“Hello, Rodbury. Is His Grace at home?”

“Lady Sophia. What a pleasure. I regret His Grace is not in residence at the moment, though he is expected to return before dinner. The duchess is within, however.” The very proper servant bowed. “May I take it that you’ll be staying?” He indicated the baggage wagon.

“We’ve come home. Tell Tetford we will need a room prepared for Lady Richardson, and we’ve brought Mrs. Chapman with us. Oh, and would you find a place for Donnie? In the grooms’ dormitory or one of the gardeners’ cottages?”

The butler raised an eyebrow at Charles, who stood at the base of the steps with Lady Richardson on his arm, feeling as exposed as a cannonball on a cricket pitch.

“Rodbury, this is Captain Charles Wyvern. Please have Tetford prepare a room for him as well.” Lady Sophia nodded to Charles. “It’s much too late in the day for you to be setting off. I know my brother will want to meet you.”

When they entered the house, Charles felt even more out of place. This must rival Carlton House or Brighton Pavilion for splendor. An atrium four stories high ended in a dome intersected with skylights that bathed the open space with sunshine. A chessboard of black-and-white marble covered the floors, and the walls were an understated pale green with gilded white trim.

Their footsteps echoed in the massive space.

“Come into the drawing room, Captain. Rodbury and the footmen will bring in the baggage.” Lady Sophia untied her bonnet, handing it to the butler.

The drawing room was no less grand than the foyer, with pale-blue walls and rich, golden upholstery and drapes.

“Sophie.” A striking blonde woman rose from a sofa, a heavy book in her hands. “I didn’t know you were coming to visit. I’m delighted.” She crossed the room quickly. Remembering Lady Sophia’s letter, Charles deduced this must be her sister-in-law, the Duchess of Haverly.

“Charlotte. I’m afraid it’s a bit more than a visit.” The two women embraced, and Charles heard a hint of tears in Lady Sophia’s voice.

As Charles seated Mamie, Lady Sophia gave the duchess a brief summary of the morning’s events.

“They marched right in, gave us an ultimatum, and began speaking of all the things they hated about Primrose and how they were going to renovate everything. We were allowed to bring our personal belongings, but the rest they declared their possessions. And they have a wild brood of boys who were completely unchecked. I estimate they will have broken everything of value within a fortnight.”

“That’s outrageous.” The duchess squeezed Lady Sophia’s hands, but she cast more than one quizzical glance Charles’s way. He remained standing, his hands on the back of Mamie’s chair.

Lady Sophia intercepted the look and put her hand to her forehead. “I am such a dolt. Please, let me introduce you. This is Captain Charles Wyvern, who was the commander of the HMS Dogged, Rich’s ship. He came to express his condolences. He happened to be at Primrose when the new baron and his family arrived, and he escorted us here. I hope you don’t mind. I’ve invited him to stay at least the night.”

Understanding smoothed the lines of the duchess’s face, and she smiled warmly, transforming her entire countenance. She had remarkable green eyes. “Of course you must bide with us. We are in your debt for helping Sophie and Mamie. I’m glad you can stay over. I know my husband will want to express his thanks as well.”

Charles nodded. “You’re most kind, Your Grace.”

He chafed a bit under the delay, though beyond returning to London to haunt the halls of the Admiralty, he had no clear objective.

Staying one more day wouldn’t change much.

Sophie couldn’t believe she was back at Haverly Manor. Her room looked the same as when she’d left it three years before to move in with Mamie—just as spacious, just as grand. Polished, mahogany furniture, thick rugs, tasteful artwork. Everything exactly as her mother had designed it before Sophie was born.

Haverly hadn’t changed. It was Sophie who was different. She’d grown from a girl to a woman at Primrose, and now it felt as if, in returning to her childhood home, she was trying to slip into a pair of shoes too small for her.

Sophie nodded her approval to the maid who had dressed her hair for dinner. It had been months since Sophie had gone to the trouble of changing into formal garb for the evening meal, but things were different at Haverly Manor, and her mother would be attending tonight. Standards must be maintained.

Unpolished jet beads decorated the neckline of her black dress, absorbing the light. The decoration, even though black, could be considered her first emergence from deep mourning. In a week