The Indebted Earl by Erica Vetsch (best new books to read .TXT) 📗

Sophie surmised that he didn’t overindulge often, being so lean. She met Charlotte’s eyes, which were speculative. Sophie hadn’t mentioned the true reason behind the captain’s visit. It was too private, and she still didn’t know how she felt about it. He clearly felt obligated to her and Mamie, and she could wish things were different, but it made little sense to dwell upon it.

“Thank you, Captain. Has my brother been able to prevail upon you to stay for a while longer?” Sophie unfolded her serviette and spread it across her lap as he set a laden plate before her. “Goodness, I’ll never be able to eat all this.”

“You should try,” Marcus said, crossing his fork and knife on his plate and sitting back. “You’re too thin these days.”

Sophie took a calming breath. He meant well, he really did, but if he felt the need to keep an eye on her, it implied that he thought her incapable of doing the task herself. She didn’t need someone to care for her. She was the one who cared for other people.

Like Mamie. The dear old woman picked up a triangle of toast and bit off one corner.

“The duke and duchess have been most kind, extending the hospitality of Haverly Manor, but I fear I must decline.” The captain drained his coffee cup. “I will be making my departure today.”

Mamie’s chin lifted. “When do you think we should leave as well, Sophie? I suppose it’s a blessing in disguise that we had to pack everything so quickly yesterday. It won’t take long today to get everything ready for our trip.”

“What’s this?” Marcus asked. He looked to his wife, but she shrugged and shook her head. His eyes found Sophie’s. “You’ve only just arrived. You’re not thinking of escaping, are you?” Though his tone was light, his words hit Sophie in the chest.

She was thinking of escaping. She’d been thinking of it most of the night. Living at Haverly, watching the deconstruction of Primrose from afar while fending off the mother-hen cluckings of her family as they wrapped her in cotton wool, would be unbearable. She would suffocate or go mad. Escape was the right word for what she needed.

She dabbed her lips with the corner of her serviette and prepared to stand her ground. “Mamie and I are desirous of taking a journey together. To the seaside, as it happens.” She held up her hand when Marcus looked ready to protest. “Mamie grew up on the coast of Devon, and she wants to see her home county. We both feel a trip comes at just the right time. We need a change of scenery.” Excitement flickered in Sophie’s mind. She’d not traveled much, but if she was going to go, she intended to make the most of the experience.

“I quite agree.”

Heads swiveled to Charlotte, who held her teacup in both hands, her elbows resting on the table in a fashion that would have earned her a reprimand from the dowager had she been present. Sophie shot her sister-in-law a grateful smile.

“Marcus, before you argue, hear me out.” Charlotte set down her cup and reached for her husband’s hand on the tablecloth. “As much as I would love to have Sophie and Mamie stay with us, I’ve tried to imagine what it would be like to be either of them. They’ve been removed quite abruptly from the home they cherish, and so soon on the heels of their bereavement. Though we welcome them with open arms, the temptation is for us to ask—far too frequently, I am inclined to think—how they are feeling, what we can do for them, are they going to be all right? By the middle of the first day, I think I would be ready to throw a few vases and dinner plates.” She nodded, raising her eyebrows to Sophie to see if she were in agreement. “They’re not proposing to venture to the Pacific Islands for the rest of their days. It’s just a trip to the coast for a few weeks. Two or three months at the most.”

“Exactly.” Sophie leaned forward, grateful that Charlotte had chosen to be her ally in this. “A change of scene for us, and a chance to breathe and think away from all the memories and sadness. A chance to make plans for the future. The sea air will be bracing, and Mamie can show me her childhood haunts.”

“I haven’t time to take a holiday with you to the shore. Things are too busy here at the estate.” Marcus leaned back but kept hold of Charlotte’s hand. “And we’ve got Charlotte’s health to consider.” He glanced at his wife’s slightly rounded middle, where their firstborn grew. “In a few months she’ll be nearing her confinement. She can’t travel then, and I can’t be away. I’m sorry, Sophie, but it’s impossible. Maybe next summer.”

“It might surprise you, Marcus, but I never considered you might want to accompany us.” Sophie kept her voice light, but desperation took hold. If her brother closed the door on the idea, it might very well stay closed. “Mamie is free to come and go as she likes, and I do believe I have earned the same privilege. I am twenty years old and of independent means. Anyway, while I love you dearly, having you on the journey would defeat the purpose of getting away from family. Your place is here at Haverly with Charlotte.”

He studied her, his face somber. Her heart beat against her ribs, and she realized just how much and how quickly she’d set her hopes on the idea of a trip to the sea. As the head of the family, it would be optimal to have Marcus’s approval and backing.

Mamie pushed her plate back. “I didn’t mean to start a row. It was just an idea I had.” Regret and longing lengthened her face, and she blinked rapidly. Marcus looked abashed at having made the older woman cry, and he sought Sophie’s and Charlotte’s pardon