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

her head into Sophie’s shoulder. Sophie’s perfect curls pulled to the side, but she didn’t seem to mind. She stood, lifting Betsy with her, whispering in her ear and holding her close.

The wailing stopped, but Betsy continued to cling to Sophie like a barnacle.

“I apologize, gentlemen. I’ll just be a moment. Penny, perhaps you could help Mamie with the hostess duties?”

As she passed through the door into the hall, Sophie looked back over Betsy’s head at Charles.

Did she want him to follow her? When he pushed his chair back, she shook her head and motioned for him to remain seated.

Her reaction to his new posting puzzled him. Was she sad? Was she relieved? Did she want him to turn down the offer?

She had wept when rereading Rich’s letters.

She would be eager for Charles to leave, and Betsy’s outburst notwithstanding, the girls would be well enough left in her care. He and Sophie had made their agreement, and he was foolish to want to change the terms of their marriage. He owed her too much, and Rich too. He would pay his debts with honor and not look for anything more.

“I appreciate the command, Admiral.” He took the orders and set them beside his place. “As long as we’ve rounded up the smugglers before the Dogged is scheduled to depart, I’ll be happy to go.”

C

HAPTER

16

HE WAS LEAVING them. He said he would be happy to go. That part hurt. Would he miss them at all, or was he giving thanks for the escape? Sophie had known this day would come, but she dreaded it. Part of her wanted to react like Betsy, throwing herself in his arms and begging him not to go.

Three months? At least he would be home for Christmas. Or would he? She didn’t know how the navy operated in peacetime. Would they issue orders right away when he completed this mission, or would he have some leave time?

Betsy, at five years old, was really too big for Sophie to carry, but the urgency of her embrace and hiccupping tears made Sophie loathe to put her down.

“It’s going to be all right, Betsy. He won’t be gone forever. We should be happy for him. He’s waited a long time for this.” She was saying all the right things, but it still hurt. “We will miss him, but we’re going to be strong women, taking care of Gateshead until he comes back.”

They reached the nursery door, and as she pushed it open, she said, “Maybe you and I and Thea can have a snuggle in Thea’s bed. She’s not been herself lately either. I will pop down to the kitchen and get us some cups of chocolate, all right?”

The room was dark except for the faint light from the windows. Even that wasn’t much, because just before dinner, a squall had moved in, sending down fitful gusts of windblown rain. Was Thea asleep?

Sophie put Betsy on the bed. “I’ll be back, love. I just need to fetch a light from the hall.” She hurried out and removed a candle from a wall sconce, bringing it in to light the lamps. When she raised the candle near Thea’s pillow … it was empty. Her dinner tray sat beside the bed, only crumbs on the plate.

“That child. She’s probably snuck down to the kitchen to talk to the maids and perhaps get some apple tart. Betsy, love, do you want to come with me, or do you want to start getting ready for bed while I fetch Thea?”

“I … want … to come with … you.” Her voice jerked, though she’d stopped crying.

“That’s fine, but I can’t carry you this time. You’re getting to be such a big girl, you’ll have to walk.” Sophie held out her hand.

The scullery maid and Mrs. Chapman bustled in the hot kitchen between the preparation table and the fire.

“No, milady, I ain’t seen her.” The new scully was fresh-faced and young.

“I’m sorry,” Mrs. Chapman shook her head, the lace fringe on her white cap fluttering. “Thea was upstairs when I took her tray. I haven’t even thought of her since.” She transferred pastry to a tray.

“Botheration. Betsy, you stay here, and I’ll find your sister. If the captain finds out she’s disappeared, he’ll be rightly upset.” Sophie hurried out to check first in the captain’s study, which held fascination for both the little girls. Thea loved to use his spyglass at the windows to search for ships.

Not there.

Should Sophie raise an alarm? Thea had been punished for going down to the beach without permission. Surely she wouldn’t do it again. And in this weather?

But alarm bells rang in her head. Better to be sure than have regrets later.

Hurrying into the dining room, she interrupted the conversation, not worrying about manners. “Charles, I’m so sorry, but I cannot find Thea. She’s not in her room.”

Penny tossed her napkin down. “That girl. She’ll be hiding, angry about being punished. She did this once before at Miss Fricklin’s.”

Charles pushed his chair back. “Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse us.”

“We’ll help you look.” Marcus stood. “We’ve got time yet.”

“Penny,” Sophie said, “please fetch Betsy from the kitchen and get her ready for bed. Search the nursery, dressing room, and schoolroom, then stay with Betsy.”

They had barely moved into the hall when a heavy pounding started on the front door. Without Miles, who still hadn’t made an appearance, to perform his duties as footman, Charles took it upon himself to open the door.

Partridge stood there, streaming water from his hat and canvas cloak. “Boss,” he gasped, looking past Charles to Marcus. “They came early. They’re loading the boat, and …” He gulped a gout of air. “The little girl, the red-haired one, she snuck past me and went down the stairs to the shore. Went right into the boathouse. Boss, they saw her, and they’ve snatched her. I’m ashamed. I don’t know how she managed to get by me. They’re preparing to shove off with her aboard.”

Ice ran