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

“We’ll begin soon. The musicians come from Lyme Regis, and they’re quite good.”

A fiddler, a flautist, and a harpist gathered in one corner, and the publican, Mr. Barker, brought a small table to set near their chairs. Mrs. Barker followed him, holding three pewter mugs and a pitcher. Sophie smiled. The musicians would be well lubricated this evening.

Penny had eyes for everything, bouncing on her toes, tapping her fan into her palm. “How are they going to fit everyone inside?”

A good question, since the room was nearly full, with more people arriving each minute.

“I imagine a large number of the gentlemen will head to the taproom.” Charles tugged at his cravat, his eyes narrowed as he looked from one face to the next, as if weighing people up.

“Mamie, let’s get you settled.” Sophie guided her to where some pillows had been placed on benches along the wall. Several older ladies in lace caps had gathered there.

“You go and enjoy yourself, Sophie. I’ll be fine here. I’ll see you when they take the supper break.” Mamie seemed to have gathered herself and to be aware of her surroundings again.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, assemble for the promenade.” A stout little man with a shiny bald head and fringes of hair sticking out over his ears stood on tiptoe. His voice was strikingly loud for such a short fellow.

“I forgot to find a partner for Penny. I’ll be back to check on you, Mamie. If you need anything, I’ll be nearby.”

She hurried through the crowd, but she needn’t have worried about Penny. The girl was surrounded by young men, and Charles was at her side, frowning. The reverend was making introductions, and Penny looked flushed and overwhelmed.

“This is Ulrich Fields. His father is the blacksmith here, and Ulrich helps out in the forge.” Reverend Dunhill drew forward a sturdy young fellow with blazing-red hair that would rival Thea’s. “I can vouch for his character.”

Charles gave a short nod, and the transaction was done. Ulrich bowed, held his hand out, and led Penny away like a prize.

The rest of the potential partners drifted away. The reverend chuckled at their dispirited looks. “You will find yourself besieged with men asking to partner Miss Pembroke tonight. The young men will flock, and the other young ladies will pout and glower.”

Charles took Sophie’s left hand in his left. “We’ve been asked to lead out.” He put his right hand on the small of her back. “I’m told it’s a simple promenade, twice around the room.”

A ripple of heat radiated on her skin at his touch, traveling up her arm to her chest. If she closed her eyes, she could feel each of his fingers spread on her back. She wasn’t supposed to feel this way, was she? Not for the captain. A flush gathered momentum, surging into her cheeks. She prayed he wouldn’t notice, and that those looking on would think her merely feeling the heat from the crowded room.

She and Charles stepped out together, and the onlookers clapped along to the lively tune. Some folks stared and whispered behind their hands as the earl and countess went by, but Sophie kept her chin level and a pleasant expression on her face. It was to be expected that they would be the objects of curiosity. That was part of the reason they’d come, to make the acquaintance of their new neighbors and settle some of the questions the villagers would no doubt have about the new residents of Gateshead.

Charles matched his steps to hers, but he still seemed distracted. His hand was firm against her back, maintaining contact, but she might have been a stranger for all the attention he paid her. His composure irked Sophie. How could his mere touch have her at sixes and sevens, and he remain unaffected? And yet he was in the right, wasn’t he? Maintaining an even disposition, keeping things on a formal, business footing as agreed. She didn’t want to feel like this, did she? Especially if she was the only one.

The moment the music stopped, villagers surrounded her, drawing her away from Charles, asking questions, introducing themselves, being so very nice. She hoped her answers were coherent, because her emotions were most certainly not.

Penny wasn’t the only one with a queue of potential dance partners. Sophie danced every set. Will Owens, the solicitor, led her through the allemande, and Mr. Barker, their host for the evening, partnered her through a reel. Of Charles she saw nothing, though she kept watch for him.

By the time intermission arrived, Penny had pink cheeks and eyes filled with stars. She clasped Sophie’s arm.

“This is the most fun. I’ve met ever so many people, and I haven’t stepped on anyone’s feet yet.” She laughed, flicking open her fan and stirring the air around her face. “I’ve had no less than three offers to sit with gentlemen at supper, and Mr. Fields even declared he was going to send me a memento on the morrow.”

“Really? What did the captain say about that?” Sophie asked, searching yet again for her husband in the crowd.

“I haven’t seen him for some time. You don’t think he would disapprove, do you? Surely Mr. Fields only means to send a posy or perhaps some chocolates?” Penny lowered her fan. “That wouldn’t be too forward, would it?”

“Fields?” Miles Enys spoke from behind them. “You wouldn’t take a gift from him, would you?” His hands fisted, and he scowled.

Sophie wanted to roll her eyes. Surely she hadn’t been like this at their ages? No, she had fallen in love with Rich and never even thought of loving another.

Until now, her heart whispered. You’re thinking about someone else now.

Shoving that thought away, she went to one of the open windows. The room seemed unbearably crowded and noisy. Leaning on the sill, she caught sight of Charles in the middle of the road. Who was that with him?

They stood just outside the circle of a lantern on a pole. Charles faced away from her,