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

Mamie waited patiently in her dark gown with the jet-bead trim. Sophie had styled her hair in pretty curls and loaned her a bandeau of black velvet to wear. Sophie wanted to hug her, she looked so sweet.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“A village dance, Mamie. There will be food and music and new friends to meet.” Sophie spoke with confidence, but a tickle of unease went through her. Today hadn’t been a good memory day for Mamie, and she’d needed reminding several times about tonight’s event. Here at Gateshead, her good days had outnumbered her bad, but the bad ones hadn’t disappeared altogether.

Charles hurried down the stairs. “Sorry to be late. Are we ready?”

Feathers of excitement brushed Sophie’s skin. He looked so distinguished in his formal attire. Though she liked his naval uniform, Charles Wyvern in civilian tailoring with snowy linens was enough to take a girl’s breath away.

She covered her surprise by checking that her reticule and fan hung just right from her wrist.

When had she begun to think of him as handsome? Austere, yes. Commanding. Even a touch dashing, as Cilla had commented … but handsome?

Her tastes lay in a different direction, didn’t they? Charles looked nothing like Rich. Rich had been shorter, stockier, with chestnut hair. More blunt of features with a strong jaw and broad brow. And in Sophie’s eyes, perfect.

And yet the captain’s appearance made her heart bump against her stays in an odd manner. Careful, Sophie. You would be unwise to take more than a bit of notice of him. Don’t let your head be turned. Yours is a business arrangement only, and the last thing you want is to be attracted to a man who will never be content at home. You had enough of that with Rich, forever waiting for him to return to you.

Charles offered his arm. “I’ll be the envy of every man there, escorting such beauties.” His words were proper and flattering, but he had a distracted look, as if he had much on his mind. Something had put him on edge ever since they had waltzed together a few days previously. He’d been reticent, and he’d taken a long walk at dusk every evening, refusing company, even Sophie’s.

Was he getting restless about not hearing anything more from the Admiralty? He had been so disappointed when the blockade of Elba had fallen through. They hadn’t spoken of what his plans would be, though she recalled him saying a captaincy of a merchant ship would be a last resort.

Once inside the carriage, excited tension radiated from Penny and she flicked open her fan, then clicked it shut, fidgeting and unable to sit still.

Mamie hummed quietly to herself, content enough to be with them, though Sophie wasn’t certain she fully grasped where they were headed. Sophie only hoped the villagers would be kind.

Sophie smoothed her skirts and tried to lighten the mood. “I haven’t attended a dance in a very long time. When I think of the dances we had at Haverly House, the weeklong party we had to celebrate my brother Neville becoming engaged to Cilla, we danced every night. I wasn’t much older than Penny is now. I met Rich that week. Do you remember, Mamie?”

“I remember that night.” Mamie’s voice had a faraway quality. “You were everywhere, chatting and laughing, and Rich couldn’t take his eyes off you. He came home that night and declared he was going to marry you someday.”

“That’s so romantic. And tragic.” Penny sighed. “But look how things turned out. Now you have the captain, and you’re a countess. You got a happy ending after all.”

Sophie nodded, and Charles shifted on his seat. She wouldn’t … couldn’t … explain to Penny the true nature of their marriage. But it was an answer to prayer, for both of them, she hoped.

Almost as if Mamie had read her mind, the older woman said, “I prayed very hard for you, Sophie, when Rich died. I was afraid you would mourn him until you were old and gray like me. You loved him very much, but he would never have wanted you to stop living. I’m glad you two made a match of it. Your marriage was the answer to my prayers.”

Sophie had thought so at the time, but how she wished she could talk to Rich just once more, to get his blessing, to explain her reasons.

“I’m grateful that you pray for me, Mamie.” Sophie leaned across and patted her hand. “I only hope that Marcus and Mother think this marriage a blessing when they arrive. I did tell you they were coming? Marcus first, and then the dowager will descend. I feel Gateshead should brace itself as if for inclement weather.”

“You do talk a lot of nonsense, child. You love your mother, and she loves you. Beneath all that bluster is a woman who cares for her children so much, she doesn’t realize how forceful she sounds. I’ve always gotten along with Honora Haverly, in spite of her being a duchess and putting on airs.”

The carriage stopped before the public house, and Penny could barely contain herself. Light spilled from the windows, and people arrived on foot all around them, chattering and laughing.

When they climbed out, a path opened for them to the door. Men bowed, and women curtsied. Charles took Sophie’s elbow, herding Penny and Mamie before him.

Inside, they were led upstairs to the assembly room. A long table stood at the far end, laden with food. Miles, who had driven the carriage, came in behind them and placed Mrs. Chapman’s contributions to the feast, jugged hare and apple compote, with the other dishes.

When Reverend Dunhill spied Sophie, he smiled, coming to her side. “Lady Rothwell, you’re looking very well tonight. I see you brought your charges, young and old.” He favored Penny with a smile and Mamie with a brief handclasp. “I hope you won’t be disappointed in our rather provincial entertainments.”

“I’m sure we’ll have a delightful time,”