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eyes. “Of course. I would know whether my son was alive or not.” She looked at her hands, then back to Sophie.

“I’ve come to tell you some exciting news, and I hope you’ll be happy.” She sat beside Mamie, taking her hand. “Captain Wyvern, Earl Rothwell … Charles …” She almost laughed, trying to sort out what she should call him to help Mamie understand. “Charles has asked me to marry him, and I’ve said yes. You and I are going to stay here at Gateshead and make this our home. You will get to live by the sea forever, and the girls will stay here with us. Isn’t that wonderful news?”

Please, God, help her comprehend, and help her not to be upset.

“Married. To the captain?”

“Yes. And soon. This Wednesday. There’s no need to wait.”

“But, my dear, what about Rich? He’s coming home soon. Won’t he be upset if he finds you married to another man?”

Tears burned the backs of Sophie’s eyes. “Mamie, darling, Rich isn’t coming home. He died, remember? He’s buried in Portugal. We had his memorial service, and the captain came and brought Rich’s things?” Things Sophie had yet to unpack.

“He’s dead. He’s not coming home.”

“That’s right, darling. I’m so sorry.”

“You loved him.”

“Yes, and I always will, just like you always will.”

“But you’re marrying Captain Wyvern?”

“Yes.”

Mamie patted Sophie’s cheek. “You’re a good girl, Sophie. Always looking after everyone else. I hope you remember to look after yourself.”

“I’ll do my part in looking after her as well.” Charles spoke from the doorway. He came in and pulled a chair alongside Mamie’s knitting basket. “You’ll always have a home here with Sophie and me.” He took Mamie’s other hand between his. “You’ll be revered, as a mother should be.”

Mamie looked long into his face. “Do you care for Sophie?”

His eyes met Sophie’s. “Yes, I do. I have long had a fine regard for her, first through her letters and Rich’s stories, and then meeting her myself. She’s a woman of rare beauty, inside and out.”

Warmth spread through Sophie at his words and his intent look. She knew he was only trying to reassure an old woman of delicate mind, but the words sounded so nice, she half wanted to believe them.

“And, Sophie, dear, do you care for the captain?”

Aware that Charles listened intently, Sophie told the truth. “I have a great respect for the captain. He’s a good man, and he’s doing a good thing making sure we’re all taken care of. I am most happy to accept his proposal.”

Mamie assessed Sophie, and she tried to stay still under the scrutiny. She hadn’t exactly declared an eternal love for Charles. Was that what Mamie wanted?

Finally, Mamie released her hand from Sophie’s clasp and patted Charles’s knee. “Then I give you my blessing. Treat her well.”

Sophie exhaled slowly, meeting Charles’s eyes over Mamie’s head. The look there made her heart race.

Sunday morning saw them climbing into the estate carriage, a fine vehicle with the Rothwell crest on its door, to attend church in the village. Betsy sat on Penny’s lap to ease the crush of seven occupants. Sophie gave up trying not to lean into Charles on every turn, and he raised his arm and put it around her shoulders to make more room.

“I suppose someday I’m going to have to break down and learn to ride a horse.” His breath tickled as he whispered in her ear. “Either that or I’ll need to buy an omnibus to get this crew from here to there without packing us in like salt cod in a barrel.”

“You don’t ride?” Sophie winced when she realized how loudly her question had been posed. The girls, Mamie, and Mrs. Chapman all stared, and Charles shifted on the plush seat. But it was odd, a grown man not having such a basic skill. Sophie had been given riding lessons as a matter of course, as had every other young person of her acquaintance.

“I don’t know how to ride either.” Betsy leaned forward and patted his knee.

“There isn’t much call for equestrian prowess aboard a ship.”

“But you’re not on a ship anymore. You live at Gateshead now,” Thea pointed out. She looked angelic. Sophie had helped style her hair, crossing her braids atop her head and pinning them into a coronet.

“For the moment. When my new commission comes in, I’ll be aboard ship with no horses to ride and no place to ride them.”

Thea struggled to sit forward. “You’re still leaving us?” Her eyes narrowed from shock to mistrust. “But I thought you were marrying Sophie.”

“I am marrying Sophie. You don’t need to worry. You will remain with her at Gateshead, even when I’m away at sea.”

“I thought married people wanted to be together all the time.” Thea crossed her arms over her thin chest. “If you leave, who will look after all of us?”

Charles didn’t have to answer, because the carriage pulled to a stop at the church steps. He was out before Grayson could climb from the driver’s seat and open the door. The poor captain. His life aboard ship had not prepared him for being trapped in a carriage with six women.

The beadle escorted them to their pew and unlocked the gate with one of the keys on his belt. The seats were right up front, and the Rothwell crest had been carved into the gate. Sophie felt all eyes upon them, but she forced herself not to turn around. Her bonnet shielded her face, but she could still hear the whispers.

When the vicar took the pulpit, satisfaction shone from his expression when he looked down at the Rothwell pew. Sophie folded her hands in her lap, eager to hear. It had been far too long since she had been to church, and her soul needed feeding.

“Hear the word of the Lord from Ephesians. ‘And be not drunk with wine, wherein is excess; but be filled with the Spirit; Speaking to yourselves in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in

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