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

But when he reached her, he merely smiled and raised a nautical spyglass to his eye. “I spotted something from the upstairs study, and I thought you might like to see it.”

“What?” She looked out to the water, but nothing seemed different. A wide expanse of sea and sky.

“A ship.” He lowered the glass and handed it to her as she stood. “At your one o’clock.”

The telescope was fine wood and brass and glass, well cared for and heavy in her hands. How many voyages had it been on with the captain? She raised it to her eye, and the horizon swung crazily, blurry and hard to find. He moved behind her, cupping her shoulders and turning her slightly.

“There.” He pointed. She sighted the spyglass along his arm. “Don’t touch the rim to your face. You’ll see better with it held just away from you.”

She followed his instructions, aware of his presence so close to her. If she backed up an inch, her shoulders would brush his chest. The scent of soap and bay rum drifted around her. She swallowed hard and concentrated. In the center of the cylinder, a ship appeared, the sun gleaming off her sails.

“Is it a navy ship?” she asked.

“No.” Humor tinged his voice. “It’s a merchant ship. If you’ll look at her stern, you’ll see she isn’t flying a naval flag.”

At this distance, it didn’t appear as if the ship was making any progress at all, but it must be, because her sails were bellied out.

His sigh skimmed the top of her head.

Lowering the glass, she looked up at him. His three-quarters profile was sharp, his eyes keen as he stared into the distance. The cut on his brow had dried, and the swelling had gone down considerably.

The ship was a mere dot on the horizon, but it grew larger as she watched it. “I wonder who is aboard, and what it’s carrying, and where it’s going.”

“I wonder that with every ship I see. And I hope soon it will be me, carrying men, headed to Elba and the blockade.” He took the spyglass, collapsing the segments into a compact tube.

“What is it about life aboard ship that you yearn for so much?” She crossed her arms, aware of the freshening breeze and the sun making its way toward the west. What must this coast be like in winter?

“Many things. The camaraderie of the crew, the clear-cut mission and chain of command. The loyalty of the men.” He tapped the telescope against his thigh. “It’s the sun and the wind and the waves and the sea. The creaking of the rigging and the cry of seabirds. Porpoises leaping out of the water and the jetting spray of a whale as it blows.”

She turned to him. His words were almost lyrical. Her scrutiny must have discomfited him, for color crept up from his collar, and he cleared his throat, shifting his weight. His hands went behind him, and he straightened his shoulders. Within seconds he had traversed the area in front of the bench.

“I came to show you the ship, but I also had another reason.” He took measured steps, turning on his heel and repeating the distance. “I know you’ve only been here a few days, but you and Mamie seem to have settled in well. You have been an excellent help with the girls. I don’t know what I would have done without you and Mrs. Chapman to organize them.”

He stopped pacing and stood before her, back to the sea, his eyes intent. “I have a proposition for you to consider.”

Sophie’s breath caught in her throat. It could be anything, but dare she hope he might ask her to stay on at Gateshead for the summer?

“I would like you to stay on at Gateshead. I believe your doing so would solve many of the challenges facing us.” He resumed his pacing—four steps, pivot, four steps, pivot.

“First, it would allow the girls to remain here. They’ve had much upheaval in their lives, and I know you are resistant to sending them away to school. If you are here, they will be able to stay. It’s a lot to take on, but they seem biddable enough, and you have a good way with them.

“Second, while a reliable steward for the estate is a must, I need someone in charge of the household. I am certain your training included how to run a manor, oversee servants, and the like. I trust you completely, which would be essential.

“Third, I believe Lady Richardson is at peace here. She seems happy enough, especially when with the girls. I don’t believe she would be disappointed to remain at Gateshead.

“Fourth, you would not be subjected to your mother’s machinations. She would be forced to cease her plans to matchmake for you.

“And finally,” he paused in his striding about. “If you were to stay here at Gateshead, it would allow me to fulfill Rich’s last request of me. He asked me to take care of you. I cannot think of a better or more permanent way to take care of you than to marry you.”

Sophie wondered if the earth had shifted. She gripped the back of the bench to steady herself. “Marry me?” She had thought he was merely asking her to stay for the summer.

His brows traveled toward his hairline. “Of course. What did you think I meant?” He removed his hands from behind his back, still holding the telescope.

She shook her head. “Marry you?” His proposal had crashed down from a clear blue sky. What could she say? Was this what Rich had wanted Charles to do when he elicited his last promise? How could she marry Charles when she still loved Rich?

Comprehension smoothed the lines of Charles’s face, and he gave a rueful chuckle. “I’ve botched this entire enterprise, haven’t I? My dear, I intend our marriage to be in name only. I know your feelings for Rich, and you know my feelings about going to sea