Chapter 3
Sophie’s mind spun with questions. Could she trust Captain Overtree?
Must she accept on blind faith that he was a good man?
She remembered again Wesley’s descriptions of “Captain Black.” A soldier who had probably killed men with his bare hands in combat.
Could she put her life in those hands? And how would he treat her child—Wesley’s child—whom the world would see as his, though they would both know better?
Having met him now, she wasn’t sure what to think. Stern and blunt, yes. But dangerous? She wasn’t sure. She’d been surprised by his gentlemanlike reserve and religious convictions. Were they genuine?
In her mind’s eye, she saw again his striking blue eyes—glinting in determination, hard and officious, icy in irritation—and a warmer look she thought she’d glimpsed once or twice but could have been mistaken.
It was too early to try to form her impressions of this man, and certainly too soon to consider binding herself to him for life. If only she had more time!
She decided she would go and talk to Mrs. Thrupton. Hopefully she could help her decide what to do.
Mavis Thrupton sat in the armchair near her sitting-room window, sunlight spilling over her face, softening the lines around her eyes and across her forehead and giving her skin a golden glow.
At that moment, Sophie could imagine the beautiful young woman Mavis had once been, with a fine complexion, well-shaped features, large dark eyes, and thick brown hair piled atop her head.
Actually, she had seen Mavis looking very much like that once, in a portrait her father had pointed out in the home of a wealthy patron.
Mavis had worked as a painter’s model in her earlier years.
Several artists had vied for her attention, and the opportunity to paint the striking brunette.
Sophie felt a twinge of sadness as she now looked at the former beauty. Which was worse, she wondered, to have been beautiful once but faded, or to never have been beautiful at all?
No one had ever extolled Sophie’s beauty, pursued her, or asked her to pose for him.
Until Wesley . . . But even he had acknowledged that she wasn’t the feminine ideal.
Her pale skin lacked brilliancy and tended to look sallow in certain light.
Her face was thin—as was the rest of her.
She was not endowed with the apple cheeks and rounded arms and bosom men seemed to praise.
But Wesley had admired her in spite of those flaws, which endeared him to her all the more.
He liked to tease her, saying she reminded him of a sad, half-starved Madonna.
She could still see his golden-brown eyes, shining warmly with humor and admiration.
Now Mavis listened as Sophie confessed her predicament and Captain Overtree’s astounding offer.
“Oh, my dear!” Mavis breathed, eyes round. “But what about Wesley? I know how you feel about him.”
Sophie nodded. “I love him. Body and soul. But . . .” She shook her head in regret. “What you must think of me. You did try to warn me, I know.”
“Never mind that now. We have all made mistakes. I would be the last to condemn you. In fact, I feel responsible. What sort of a chaperone have I been? Your father will be so disappointed in me.”
“It isn’t your fault.”
“Wesley is a very handsome man, and he paid you such marked attention. I can easily understand how you might be tempted. But I thought him a gentleman, so I was not as vigilant as I should have been.” Mavis clucked her tongue.
“Still I never guessed he would leave you like this, to face this alone.”
“Don’t blame him too harshly,” Sophie defended. “I didn’t . . . exactly . . . tell him.”
Mavis cringed. “Oh, Sophie.”
“I hoped he was about to ask me to marry him, and I didn’t want him to feel forced.
I told myself I would wait just a little longer, and then if he did not ask, I would find the courage to tell him.
I thought he loved me. I still do, in my heart of hearts.
He is the one I want. Not his brother. Not a stranger I don’t know.
And what I have heard about him does not bode well. ”
“What do you mean?” Mavis’s brow furrowed.
“Wesley spoke of his foul temper, his disapproving and cold manner. His tendency to strike first and ask questions later.”
“That could be his military training—not necessarily his natural disposition. You . . . don’t think he would hurt you, do you?”
“I don’t think so, but what do I know? I have only just met him.”
“You are in an awful predicament, my dear. But what other choice do you have? Tell me you aren’t thinking of marrying Maurice.”
Sophie’s stomach soured at the thought. “Never.” Her father might think highly of the young man, but Sophie neither liked nor trusted him.
“Good. Then what will you do—wait for Wesley?”
“I don’t know. As his brother points out, unless Wesley reaches Italy and immediately takes the next ship back, I shall be well past the point of hiding my condition.”
“But . . . would that be the worst thing? If you really thought he would marry you as soon as he learned the truth?”
“I don’t know. His parents no doubt hope for a more advantageous match. But I think he would marry me if he knew.”
“Are you confident enough to risk your life on that? Your future and that of your child?”
Sophie thought again of Wesley’s blithe parting words. And his brother’s regretful conclusion that he would not be coming back, at least not for her. Captain Overtree would have no reason to mislead her, would he?
“I don’t know,” Sophie admitted.
“I’m glad you’re not considering the drastic course women sometimes take.” Mavis nibbled her lip, then tentatively continued, “I once . . . knew a woman—a former painter’s model, like me—who found herself in a similar predicament, and felt she had no other choice.”
Sophie had heard of the dangerous things desperate girls sometimes did to avoid losing their respectability, loved ones, marriage prospects, or livelihoods. She shuddered. “I could never do that. Not to an innocent babe.” And especially not to Wesley’s child, she added to herself.
Mrs. Thrupton nodded. “I have to say that relieves my mind.”
Sophie asked, “What happened to that woman—do you know?”
Mavis nodded, eyes distant in memory. “She went on to marry, her secret never becoming known. But years later, I . . . saw her, and she admitted she deeply regretted it. I tried to comfort her, reminding her she had done what she’d thought she had to. But they were hollow words.”
“Poor woman.” Sophie sadly shook her head and pressed a hand to her slim abdomen.
Mavis inhaled deeply and drew herself up.
“I can’t tell you what to do, Sophie. You know enough of my history to know I married a man I didn’t love.
Mr. Thrupton was not a bad man, but he didn’t love me either.
I wouldn’t wish that sort of life for you, my dear.
But plenty of people marry for reasons other than love.
It’s not the worst fate. I survived, and so can you. ”
Sophie thought of her father, who had enjoyed a loving relationship with her mother, while she lived.
Sophie still didn’t understand why he had married Augusta O’Dell a few years ago, a widow with a cruel tongue and three small children.
Had he thought he would grow to love her?
Or had he believed any marriage would be better than loneliness?
Sophie asked, “Did you ever come to love Mr. Thrupton, or he you?”
“Honestly, no. But over the years, I found that the more respect and kindness I showed him, the more respect and kindness I received in return. I know not everyone is as fortunate. Some men repay kindness with cruelty. But hopefully Captain Overtree is not that sort of man.”
“How am I to know?”
Mavis pressed her hand. “Perhaps pray about it and ask God to show you. I hope that isn’t hypocritical of me. I admit I have not given God much thought lately. Nor prayed as often as I should.”
Sophie nodded. “It almost seems wrong to beseech Him for help when I have ignored Him all these years. But I confess I have been praying like never before. I don’t know if He hears me, but I hope He forgives me.”
“I believe He does, with all my heart,” Mavis assured her.
“Now, may I meet this Captain Overtree? I am no infallible judge of character, as I’ve already proven, but I would like to at least meet the captain and convince myself he is a decent man.
I will have to answer to your father, you know, and I can’t have you running off with someone I’ve never even met. ”
“Yes, of course you may meet him. I would like that. But he says I must give him my answer by tomorrow morning, and that if we are to marry we must elope to Guernsey without delay.”
“Does he indeed?” Mavis’s eyes sparked with ire. “As if I shall let you sail away with a strange man without a chaperone! I have learned my lesson, better late than never. I will escort you and confirm his intentions are honorable before he has you alone and in his power.”
“Oh, I don’t think you have to worry about that,” Sophie said. “He made it clear it would be a marriage in name only.”
“What?” Mavis gaped at her. “Is the man not flesh and blood?” She shook her head. “Lofty promise, but difficult to swallow. I’d believe a man’s actions before his words. I think we’ve both learned that the hard way.”
Sophie managed to eat a little something at Mavis’s insistence, and then left the cottage and headed down toward her father’s studio.
Thoughts in a whirl, she walked through Lynmouth, past shops and public houses, barely seeing what she passed.
Then a familiar face caught her eye and she drew up short.
There, through the window of the Village Inn, she was stunned to see Wesley’s friend, Carlton Keith.
She had thought he’d left with Wesley. What was he still doing in town?