Chapter 29 #2
“Oh, wait until Winnie finds out!” Kate cried. Kneeling, she set down the candle and extended her hand to Gulliver, letting her sniff it before smoothing the cat’s head. “You’ve been a busy b . . . em, girl.”
“Perhaps we should take them to Winnie’s room,” Sophie said.
“Right. We don’t want Mamma to hear them.”
“We’ll need something to carry them . . . like a basket.”
“Maybe a picnic basket?” Kate rose. “I’m sure I can sneak one past Mrs. John.”
Sophie nodded. “You get the basket. I’ll find Winnie.”
“Won’t she be in her room?”
“Maybe not . . .” But Sophie had a good idea where the woman would be.
Kate hurried off to retrieve a basket and Sophie started down the corridor. As she’d anticipated, she heard voices coming from the colonel’s room, the door once again left ajar. But now she recognized both voices.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“You’ve nicked me, woman. Sink me, not again.”
She tiptoed to the colonel’s door and peeked inside the room, well lit by candelabra.
There sat Colonel Horton and Winnie at a small table covered in green felt, a glass of something at each elbow, a bowl of nutmeats between them, and a pile of sweets in the middle.
“Enough with these childish stakes. Let’s play for real money.”
“But what would Janet say?” Winnie gave him an impish smile.
He lifted a jar full of coins. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”
“I’ll take all your money, just as I took all the sweets, and all the buttons.”
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.” The colonel grinned, maniacally wagging his eyebrows. He shook a pair of dice in his meaty hand, and sent them tumbling to the felt.
“Not again. I’ve thrown out.”
Sophie pushed open the door. “Good evening, Colonel. Winnie.”
The colonel sucked in a breath, and slapped his hand over the dice like a child trying to cover stolen biscuits.
But Winnie met her gaze evenly. “Evening, Miss Sophie. Don’t worry, Colonel. Sophie is kind and won’t go reporting us to the mistress—will you, my dear?”
“No, but you’ve got something else to hide from the mistress now. I was coming to find you. Gulliver is a female. She’s had kittens!”
Winnie’s mouth fell ajar.
The colonel whistled. “Don’t let Janet find out.”
“I thought he was getting fat!” Winnie exclaimed. “So that’s why he—I mean, she—was hiding. Where are they?”
“Kate is fetching a basket to carry them up to your room.”
Winnie rose to go, but Sophie held up a hand. “Wait! First things first. What exactly is going on here? Kate thinks someone is extorting money from her grandfather.”
“Does she? Ha! That’s a laugh,” Winnie replied. “The other way around more like.”
“You have the memory of a flea, woman,” the colonel protested. “You’re the one who took all the sweets and buttons and now are working away at my farthings.”
“Farthings?” Sophie asked in concern.
He gestured toward the jar of coins. “Yes. Highfliers we are too. You see, my dear,” the colonel said, “Miss Whitney and I sit together of an evening to pass the time, and play a little hazard. We’re both of us a couple of lonely old souls, and it eases the ache.
” He grinned at the nurse. “Your visits are the bright spot of my day, Winnie. I don’t think my dear Margaret would mind my saying that, now she’s gone, but Janet would not approve. ”
Winnie shook her head and looked at Sophie. “No indeed. And if she knew I was spending time with her father, I’d be out on my ear in a heartbeat, loyal Stephen or no.”
“But I ask you, what’s an innocent game between friends?” the colonel said as though to a jury. “We only play for trifles. But I promised Janet that I wouldn’t gamble anymore. Lost a bit in London, you see, in my younger days. And I wouldn’t want her to think I’m slipping back.”
“We return all the farthings into the same jar and use them again the next time,” Winnie added helpfully. “Surely there’s no harm in that.”
“You didn’t return the sweets,” the colonel pointed out.
“Stephen gave those to me, and I won those back fair and square.” Winnie returned her gaze to Sophie and gestured across the room. “Now, let’s go meet the newest additions to my little menagerie.”
Sophie grinned in relief and held the door for her. “You should have heard how it sounded. All this clandestine talk about stealing you blind, and having your revenge, and the vicar taking your pony.”
“Oh, that last part about the vicar is true.” Winnie winked. “But you didn’t hear it from me.”
Stephen was never more stunned than to look up and see Carlton Keith leaning his shoulder against the doorframe, ankles crossed at a jaunty angle, smug look on his face.
“Hello, Captain.”
“Do my eyes deceive me or have I died and gone to blazes?” Stephen jested. “For I should never believe you an angel.”
Keith grinned, then glanced around the shabby ward. “I would definitely not call this place heaven.” He made a face. “That’s why I’m here. To do everything in my power to get you home as soon as may be.”
Relief flared and instantly faded. Except for Wesley, his family would be eager to see him. But Sophie? He wasn’t so sure.
“I am in no condition to travel, Keith. Nor will I be for some time. And when I am, I shall return to the regiment.”
His former lieutenant studied his face. Surprise followed by understanding shone in his eyes. “Time to decide all that later, Captain. For now, I’ve brought you a few letters from home.”
He pulled three from his pocket and handed them over. Stephen recognized his mother’s handwriting, the colonel’s, and Sophie’s.
“Well,” Keith straightened. “I’ll leave you to read in private. Think I’ll go and see who I have to bribe to get something to eat.”
When he had left, Stephen opened Sophie’s letter first, steeling himself as he read it.
Dear Captain Overtree,
How relieved we all were to learn you are alive. You cannot know how we worried and prayed and grieved during those dark days when you were missing and presumed dead. Mr. Nelson offered prayers of thanksgiving in church yesterday, and we all continue to pray for your recovery.
I hope Carlton Keith arrived safely and without delay.
We were all so grateful that he offered to travel to Brussels to see that everything is being done for you that may be.
And if it is possible to bring you home, so that we might nurse you here at Overtree Hall under the care and direction of Dr. Matthews.
Several in your family vied for the honor of coming to your bedside—myself among them, your grandfather most vocal of all—but various factors, such as your grandfather’s age and my condition, caused us to be overruled.
You have probably heard by now that Wesley is here. You should know that he volunteered for the duty as well, saying it would only be right as you have so often come to his aid. But in the end, Mr. Keith made an impassioned argument that he should be the one to undertake the journey.
I feel I should say what I hope goes without saying.
While we all pray that you will heal whole and strong and maintain the use of both arms, if God wills otherwise, we will accept that and welcome you home with our open arms. Here at Overtree Hall, there are arms enough to go round.
Do come home, Captain. We long to see you.
Sincerely,
Sophie
We long to see you. . . . He thought again of Wesley’s letter, describing Sophie’s martyr-like determination to continue the ruse of their marriage.
Was she really thankful he was alive? Did she truly want him to come home?
Stephen wanted to believe her encouraging words, but his brother’s letter and his accusations continued to plague him with doubts.
Would Sophie remain loyal to him for duty’s sake, for the family’s sake, and maybe even for God’s, all while her heart longed to be with Wesley? His gut clenched at the thought.
If he fully recovered, perhaps he might apply to his superiors to be assigned guard duty on St. Helena to make sure Napoleon’s second exile was his last. Such an assignment would keep him across the world for years, if not forever.
And who knew? Perhaps he would die on the journey, and Winnie’s prediction would come true after all.
He winced at the melodramatic thought. What a sapskull he was.
He really needed to wean himself off that laudanum, and the sooner the better.