“I believe, my dear Miss Wentworth, that you are braver than any woman I have known.”
“Then you have not known many women, captain.”
He laughed. “No, I have not. None as worth knowing as you!” He said the words offhandedly, but Sophy found that they had flown straight to her heart. This man thought she was worth knowing! A few hours conversation and he knew more about her thoughts and feelings than anyone else in the world.
“You cannot convince me, Miss Wentworth, that you would not be the very bravest of women on board ship.”
She smiled shyly. “Well, perhaps. But we none of us expect to be in smooth waters all our days. So it is not particularly brave to say that I long for an adventure or two before I die and would be willing to risk harm for it. It is merely a hopeful expectation.”
“And what if those adventures took you away from Milverton forever? Have you thought about that? Would you long for escape then?”
“Escape,” Sophy repeated and paused. “I do not so much desire to escape as merely to see something new of the world. Life is quite circumscribed for me here. It has been the same routine for all of my life. And it shall always be the same.” Sophy noticed Captain Croft nodding along with her, apparently agreeing with her and considering what she said. “That is not to say that I do not love it here. There is a comforting monotony to knowing always what will happen. The prospect of never seeing it again is not a happy one for me. Though it has been small, it has been my life.”
Sophy paused, absorbing the significance of the words she had uttered. She had never admitted these things, even to herself. “I confess that I would not know where to start if I did have the opportunity for adventure. I believe I would – in short time – long just as much to be back home as I did to be away.” Sophy paused again, thinking of what she had revealed. She looked at Captain Croft, sitting near her on the bank of the pond. He was looking at her now with a quiet smile on his face. She smiled back and asked, “Do you grow homesick when you are traveling the world? You have been away from Milverton for most of your life, it seems.”
“It is strange to me to think that I have been away for fourteen years. Most of my life, as you say. It seems like so much less. Perhaps time speeds up in the places one leaves behind. It is easy not to notice the wrinkles that develop or the aches and pains of age.” The captain's quiet smile disappeared. He seemed to be troubled by the next thought. “But I do grow homesick at times. I long for mother's cooking or the advice of father. Sometimes I would merely like to see a smiling, friendly face, reassuring me that everything will be all right in the end. Caring faces may be thin on the ground aboard ship when I have to ration the men's grog or issue a punishment to one or other of them.” The captain's gaze shifted again to something far away. “I will say that I have been more homesick since becoming a captain this last year than I ever was as a midshipman or a lieutenant.”
“Why is that?” Sophy uttered her question in little more than a whisper, anxious not to disturb the captain into revoking the gift of this intimate confidence.
“As a captain I cannot be seen to favor any particular group. And so where I could once enjoy meals with my friends, now I must dine alone or be careful to rotate members of the crew. And there is a loneliness in bearing the weight of all the decisions aboard ship. It can be a heavy burden.”
As he spoke, Sophy recognized the shadow that came across his face. It was the same one she had noticed in the parlor as he told stories of his wartime deeds. What had he seen? What had this man had to do to keep himself and his crew alive? In this moment, as he spoke of his feelings, he seemed so vulnerable and lonely. Sophy wanted so much to comfort him. Without thinking, she reached out and placed her hand on his forearm, giving it a comforting squeeze.
It was a gesture she had performed a hundred times before in as many different situations. Only a small way to tell her companion, I am here. She was usually met with a smile of thanks. And so Sophy could not now anticipate the reaction she witnessed.
Captain Croft was still looking away from her, but she heard his breath hitch as if he had been punched in the gut and could not breathe. Sophy felt that she must take her hand away from him. She should not have touched him like that. The intimacy of the afternoon had made her small gesture into something she had never intended. At least she thought she had not intended it. All of these thoughts swirled around, even as her hand remained on his arm.
Before she could convince herself to take action, Captain Croft caught her in his gaze, no longer turned toward that far away place of his reverie. Now he was overwhelmingly present. Sophy felt her own breath stop and suddenly became aware that his skin was bare and very warm. She looked down at the place where they touched. The captain's eyes followed hers.
But then his brow contracted and he jerked his head slightly backward, as if he had been struck with a sudden, overwhelming pain. She saw him swallow heavily and drag his eyes from hers. She was barely able to breathe, much less think of what had passed between them.
All too soon, Captain Croft was rising and politely offering her his hand. He helped her rise, as if nothing had happened. Sophy was confused. What had happened? Had she done something wrong? She was embarrassed and angry. But she would not let him see that she was hurt. As she rose, Sophy blinked away the tears. Until she could think more about this, she would follow the captain's lead. He had pulled away from her. He did not want her. But would he reject her friendship, too? Sophy waited to see what he would do. She would model her behavior on his.
When they were both standing, Captain Croft walked to pick up his coat. Before he turned back toward her, Sophy thought she saw his shoulders rise and fall as if he had taken a deep breath. When he turned back toward her, he smiled and started the conversation as if it had not been interrupted by an earth-shattering burst of feeling. Sophy thought that it had been mutual. But now, with his apparent indifference, she could not be so certain.
“You will find me sometimes a maudlin old man, Miss Wentworth. I can become enamored of my own melancholy if I am not carefully handled.” He smiled ruefully at her. Was that what had passed? A maudlin moment of feeling? Was that all?
Sophy could not sort it out now. So she took her cue from the captain's lighthearted behavior, though her voice wavered slightly as she began to speak. “Come now. 'Old' is much too strong. I have yet to see about the 'maudlin' part.” She managed to smile at him, which seemed to clear the air a bit. Sophy took a deep breath, filling her lungs as if she had been underwater for too many long minutes.
The captain shrugged into his coat and offered Sophy his arm. By mutual consent they started back toward Milverton. Their afternoon of skipping stones had come to an end. And yet, even with all that had passed, the captain seemed easy in her presence. It puzzled Sophy. And yet, it must be, for he was now humming softly. She recognized the tune and seized upon it as a neutral topic.
“You were singing that song when I surprised you so suddenly this afternoon. What is it?”
Captain Croft gasped comically. “You have never heard the 'Bay of Biscay'?”
“And why is that so surprising to you?” Sophy asked in a lightly mocking tone.
“I suppose that it is not. Only that it is one of our favorite songs on ship. Come, I shall teach it to you.”
Sophy demurred. “I really couldn't... I don't sing well.”
“Nonsense! Everyone has a voice. There is no need to be ashamed of yours! You must simply use it with as much enthusiasm as you can, no matter how well you think you sing.” Sophy still shook her head in protest.
“Come now, Miss Wentworth,” Captain Croft stopped and turned to face her with a smile. “One of the greatest delights God has provided us is singing out of doors with all of Nature listening. And anyway, you may be sure that I shall sing loud enough for us both. No one will even hear your sweet voice.” The mischief was back in his eyes and she found she could not resist this show of friendship.
“Oh, f
ine!” Sophy relented. “I shall try it for your sake. But you must teach me the words and the tune.”
And so they stood on the path to Milverton and sang together, Captain Croft singing a line and Sophy repeating it until they could both sing at the top of their voices with only Nature and each other listening.
Chapter XIV
An evening's reflection brought Sophy no more insight into herself than she had felt in those moments by the pond. Her thoughts remained a complicated knot which she could not quite untangle. There was the heat of her desire for the captain, followed by her embarrassment at the force of what she had felt. Then anger at Captain Croft's rejection. Then delight at his continued friendship. Then back to anger at herself for forgetting about Mr. Hollingson. Though the young curate had not yet offered her his hand in marriage, she was sure he meant to. He had seemed on the edge of declaring himself the other evening, the night before the madness of Freddy running away and the excitement of Captain Croft's arrival.
Sophy relived these moments over and over again. That exquisite feeling when they had touched and then the horrid realization that he did not want her, that she had been too bold. The contraction of pain she had seen on Captain Croft's face was burned into her memory.
Even as she relived the scene, Sophy chastised herself. What was she doing with this Captain Croft, anyway? He would leave in a few days and she would most likely never see him again. And besides, how could she feel anything for him? She had only known him a few days. Indeed, their afternoon by the pond had only been the second time they had spoken privately together. It was impossible to know someone in such a short amount of time.
Again, her mind returned to Mr. Hollingson. Sophy felt as if she had betrayed him. He was such a good, kind man. And he loved her. How could she desire to kiss another? And how could she face him tonight at the Rector's dinner party without blushing? Should she admit to him that she had wanted to kiss another man? Was the betrayal in thought as bad as it would have been to kiss the captain?
All day long on Thursday these thoughts revolved in Sophy's mind. She moved from acceptance of her situation to despondency to anger and back again with remarkable speed. Nothing much was accomplished. Instead of concentrating on her chores, Sophy stared out her window, trying in vain to sort out her feelings. Now it was almost time to leave for dinner at the Rectory and she still did not know herself. She would soon have to face both Captain Croft and Mr. Hollingson and she had no idea what she wanted or even how to speak with either man. They both must guess her folly and despise her for it. Or, what might be worse, they would pity her and treat her as a child who did not know herself.
And yet, even in the midst of her confusion, a small part of Sophy looked forward to this evening. Dinner parties were rare occasions in Milverton. Few events called for the formality of dressing in her best clothing. But Mrs. Croft had taken her son's surprise return as an opportunity for one of these rare occasions. So Sophy now found herself in front of the looking-glass, smoothing out her dress and examining her elaborate hairstyle. She was not accustomed to spending such time on herself and so it seemed as if someone else looked back at her. In a way, it suited her mood, for she hardly knew herself today.
Sophy put her hand gingerly to her hair. Each ordinary morning she coiled it into a neat roll and forgot about it. But tonight she had done it up in a fashionable style. The waves of her brown hair loaned themselves to the loosely braided coils that now sat at her neck. Soft strands were already curling around her face, though she had not purposely dislodged them.
She smoothed her dress over her hips and turned from side to side. The action filled her with the odd desire to twirl around, like she had done as a little girl. It was a moment of lightheartedness in a day that had been filled with many emotions. The dark blue fabric felt heavy against her body, so used to the light dresses she wore everyday. Sophy could not remember the last time she had had an occasion to wear it. What she saw in the mirror pleased her, as she hoped it would please those she was in company with this evening.
It was not to be a large company, but it would be a merry one. In addition to the Crofts and Wentworths, Mr. Hollingson had accepted his invitation. To try and balance her numbers – Mrs. Croft and Sophy being the only two females amongst that brace of males – the hostess had also invited Mrs. Hancock and her two daughters, Vanessa and Margaret.
Mrs. Hancock was the widow of Milverton's largest landowner. A rotund and good-hearted woman, she had lately invested herself fully in marrying off her daughters. Sophy suspected the widow had designs on Mr. Hollingson, and perhaps even Captain Croft, now that he had returned home. Sophy almost laughed aloud at the thought. Both daughters were comely but extremely shy. She did not know how they had managed to be so in spite of their outgoing mother.
Doctor Wentworth's voice interrupted her tally of the guests for tonight. “Sophy, are you ready?It is almost time for us to appear.”
“Yes, Papa. I'll be down presently.” Sophy glanced once again in the looking-glass, tucked an escaped strand of hair behind her ear, and left the room. Her father was waiting at the foot of the stairs with her shawl. He was dressed in his best suit and looked the picture of a gentleman.
“Where are Freddy and Edward?” Sophy asked.
“They were eager for more time with Captain Croft...”
“Papa! You must not let them continue to overwhelm the poor man.”
“I know. I know. But the captain did declare that his mother could use their help in some last minute preparations.” Papa smiled at her. “And if the man must answer some further questions, I am sure he will think it worth his while as payment for their services.”
Sophy sighed. “Really, I think Captain Croft is a saint to deal with them so spectacularly.”
With a twinkle in his eye, Papa patted her hand and they set off down the road toward the Rectory.
* * *
Dinner was a feast of many delicacies which Mrs. Croft put forth in front of a delighted and appreciative audience. As each course appeared, the guests settled further into the company, forgetting their formal manners and becoming quite at home with each other, talking and laughing as if they had known one another all their lives.
Connie was proud of the evident success of his mother's party. At first he had been skeptical of such a formal event, thinking that the proprieties they must observe would stifle conversation and make for a rather dull evening. But he should have remembered that Milverton people could take any event and make it merry. Though they were all dressed in their finest formal wear, the gathering felt like a warm Sunday lunch. Connie looked around at all the guests. His mother had assembled quite a mixture. There were his father and mother, of course. And the two Wentworth boys, looking quite uncomfortable in their formal wear.
Then his mother had invited Mrs. Hancock and her two daughters. They were beautiful girls and he suspected that their mother meant to throw them in his way, hoping one would catch his fancy. But neither of them did. Oh, they were nice girls. He looked across the table from one to the other now. Vanessa, the younger, was a pretty thing with blond curls, while her sister Margaret had her brown hair piled on her head in a fashionable way. Both girls wore flattering white dresses, which only served to highlight their innocence. For all their beauty, the Hancock girls were desperately shy. His mother had placed Connie next to Margaret at the table. All his efforts at conversation had so far gone unrewarded. The girl had only blushed and answered him in single words.
Connie wished his mother had seated him next to Miss Wentworth. She looked magnificent tonight. Her blue dress perfectly complemented her complexion, and she had done her hair in a way that seemed somehow both careful and careless. It exactly suited her. And it made his heart race. His heart had done so each time he had thought about her today, and that had been a lot.
How could he not think about her after what had passed yesterday afternoon at the Old Mill pond? He had gone there for a walk, an escape from the endless
visitors at the Rectory. His only thought had been a few moments of quiet to absorb the beauty around him. But then Miss Wentworth had surprised him. In more ways than by sneaking up on him, Connie thought.
Miss Wentworth had been even more interesting than he'd anticipated. They had talked and laughed together, matching each other perfectly in wit and stone-skipping skill. Connie smiled. The woman certainly had a talent for it and she had not been demure about showing it.
But then... then their conversation had turned serious. And she had placed her hand on his arm. He knew it had been a gesture of kindness. Connie could tell from the way she jerked slightly when she realized that it held more significance for him than mere kindness. He had been surprised at himself. She was a fine woman, he would have admitted that from the first. But to realize suddenly that he felt more for her had been a shock. There had been an exquisite moment when he had expected to kiss her, had wanted to kiss her. The air had almost crackled with the electricity around them. For one moment he had felt it all, had held their future in his hands. He had seen it stretched out in front of him.
Something had stopped him, though. In among the images of an ideal future with Miss Wentworth had been one glimpse of the truth: in a few days' time he would leave. He would sail away from Milverton with no idea of when or if he would ever come back. It had been a painful thought, and it had made him break their gaze. Hard as it had been, Connie knew that he had to be the one to pull away. It had pained him to see her confusion. Miss Wentworth did not deserve to be disappointed.
My Dear Sophy Page 11
