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

of Miles’s nose and stalked away. Miles sagged against the carriage wheel and wiped his brow, staring after him.

Charles wanted to protest he didn’t have time for this, but the truth was, he did. He had nothing but time at the moment.

He stood in the ballroom at Gateshead, ruefully contemplating living in a house large enough to boast a room just for dancing. It was all a long way from the captain’s quarters aboard the Dogged. He had occupied the largest personal space aboard the ship, and it would still have fit in this room several times over.

“Mamie will accompany us. She plays beautifully.” Sophie drew back the curtains, letting in sunlight and revealing the seascape outside. One of the new maids hired by Mrs. Chapman ran a dust mop over the floor, while the housekeeper supervised. Mamie took her seat at the pianoforte and played a few keys.

She winced. “It’s in need of a tuning.”

Charles couldn’t tell one way or the other. The only music he’d been subjected to for most of his life was hymns on a Sunday morning aboard ship and sea shanties the rest of the week.

Penny bit her lower lip, her eyes wide as she hovered near the doorway. What was the matter with the child? She looked about to bolt. After going into raptures about being invited to a party, now she radiated nervousness. If she was this strung up practicing, what would she be like the night of the dance?

“Come in,” Sophie invited. “This will be painless, I promise. At least for you and me. I can’t vouch for the captain. He might get his toes stepped on a few times.” She sent a teasing glance his way, and he smiled in response.

Charles found he’d smiled a lot recently, especially at Sophie. Aboard ship he was known for his stern visage and lack of humor, but one couldn’t remain stoic around the armada of girls who had invaded his life. What would his crew think if they could see him now?

Betsy strode into the room, his bicorn on her head, her hands behind her back. She took steps too long for her short legs, but it was a fair imitation of his walk, even to the slight roll he’d developed from years at sea.

“Are you taking the watch?” he asked, hiding his laughter.

“Aye, aye, Captain.” She snapped a little salute, much to his amusement.

No one had ever told him how observant children were. Nor how much they liked to pretend. He had never imagined he would engender such feelings in any child, much less a girl of tender years. It made him feel … paternal?

“I’m glad I don’t have to learn how to dance.” Thea did a pirouette with coltish grace, her dress belling out. She collapsed onto the floor in a heap of arms and legs. “I’d rather climb trees than dance. Miles let me swing on a rope in the horse barn, until that old grump Grayson ran us out of there. When are we taking the boat out again? I love sailing more than anything.”

If Thea had been a boy, he would seek a navy position for her with all haste. She had pelted him with questions each night at dinner about the parts of a ship and how to sail. He’d not seen a keener mind amongst the many cabin boys he’d tutored over the years. She would have made a fine sailor.

Sophie went to the center of the room and put her hands on her waist. Charles tried not to notice how her hips flared gently. She had a striking figure, and her dress touched her in all the right places to garner a man’s attention, though there was nothing bawdy or tawdry about her attire. With the discarding of mourning clothes, she now resembled the woman in her letters, lighthearted, adventurous, and inquisitive. He saw new facets of her character all the time, and with every passing day, he felt more and more drawn to her.

“Perhaps we should begin with a country dance. There should be more people, but you will get the general idea. Penny, come stand where you can see well.”

Mamie played an introduction, and Charles took his place opposite Sophie. He held out his hands, and hers fit into his nicely. He caught the beat Mamie set, and they were away.

He glided down the room, guiding Sophie through the simple pattern. She had a lightness and grace to her movement and mirrored him flawlessly.

She looked at his face the whole time, unlike some girls who looked at their feet when they danced. The Adriatic under sunny skies couldn’t have been bluer than her eyes. As the tempo increased, color came into her cheeks, and she laughed.

“You’re very good,” she said as she curtsied to him when the song ended.

“Most sailors make good dance partners.” He shrugged, but her compliment pleased him. “You’re an excellent dancer yourself.”

“Hours of lessons. The dancing master at my finishing school was a perfectionist.” She brushed back a curl on her cheek and let her fingers trail down the side of her neck.

Charles swallowed, following the movement. She appeared oblivious to the effect she had on him, and he was grateful. Sophie in her letters had been appealing. Sophie in real life was proving irresistible.

“Now, Penny, you take my place.” Sophie beckoned the girl to come stand before Charles.

“Oh, I’m not ready yet. May I watch just a little longer?” She twisted the ribbon tie at her waist.

“I’m surprised at you, Penny. I thought you wanted to attend this dance.” Sophie put her arm around the girl, drawing her into the middle of the floor.

“I do. It’s just …” Her voice trailed off, and she bit her lower lip, looking up at Charles with uncertainty.

Was the child afraid of him? He had done nothing to frighten her, had he?

“Penny doesn’t like to have to learn anything.” Thea knelt on the window seat to see outside, looking back over