“It might be an interesting exercise,” Mr. Overtree allowed.
“Sounds amusing,” Kate agreed.
“Sounds dangerous,” Keith added, although thankfully too low for everyone else to hear.
“Well,” his mother said, a wry glint in her eye. “I don’t want either of you to be disappointed, but I shan’t go removing Katherine’s current portrait from the wall just yet.”
No doubt relieved to shift the attention from herself, Sophie asked, “What will you wear, Kate?”
“Oh! Good question. What do you think, Mamma?”
“Whatever you like, my dear. Though I have always liked you in blue.” His mother turned to him. “In the meantime, when may we see your Lynmouth paintings?”
Wesley hesitated, then put her off once more, knowing his parents would not be pleased to see their new daughter-in-law in such poses. He knew he couldn’t evade them forever. But seeing the look of fear cross Sophie’s lovely face, he decided he would leave that crate nailed shut for now.
The three of them—Kate, Sophie, and Wesley—set a time to meet in the attic studio the following day. Sophie had worked the night before, preparing her canvas and doing some preliminary sketches. Sophie wore a simple muslin day dress for the sitting, but instead of her usual workaday apron, she wore a pretty lace apron instead. It wasn’t as fine as Mrs. Thrupton’s shawl, but she would not risk getting paint on that. Then she smoothed her hair, telling herself not to worry about her appearance for Wesley’s sake.
At the appointed hour, she left her bedchamber and headed for the stairs. There, she drew up short. Wesley leaned against the newel post, strikingly handsome in green frock coat and buff trousers. Seeing him waiting for her, her palms grew instantly damp.
Kate’s door opened, and she popped her head out, “I’m not ready yet. Libby is curling my hair. I want to look a picture!”
Sophie hesitated, nervous to be alone with Wesley any longer than necessary. “All right. But don’t be too long.”
“Take your time,” Wesley drawled. “We’ll get started without you.”
Kate wrinkled her face. “How will you do that?”
“Oh, I have a few ideas...”
Sophie said officiously, “By mixing paints and preparing our palettes, of course.”
“Ah. Right. Be up soon.”
As Sophie and Wesley ascended the stairs, she said, “I have already primed my canvas. Have you?”
“No. Thankfully I had one in my studio. I suppose it’s second nature for you. You primed your father’s canvases and painted his backgrounds for years. I am surprised he is managing without you.”
“Oh, I am sure he does well enough. After all, he has Maurice to help him.”
“That ambitious young man will steal half of your father’s commissions by year’s end if I don’t miss my guess.”
“I hope you are wrong.”
They entered the studio and began preparing, Sophie opening the shutters and moving aside the portrait of the captain to make room for the freshly primed canvas.
She noticed Wesley’s resentful gaze resting on his brother’s image. “Marsh has finally had his revenge.” He shook his head, eyes glimmering in memory.
“What do you mean?”
“There was another woman of our mutual acquaintance. She and Marsh had known one another for years, but there was no specific understanding between them, nor any promises between our families. Stephen may have expected her to marry him eventually. Assumed it afait accomplit, I don’t know. But somewhere along the way, this young woman began to prefer me. I could not help it if she developed feelings for me. I did not steal her away, whatever Marsh might think. A woman is not like a fine watch in a shop that might be put in one’s pocket and carried away.”
Was this the “Jenny” Captain Overtree preferred not to talk about, Sophie wondered, or someone else?
Wesley positioned his own easel, avoiding her eyes. “Whatever the case, apparently he’s never forgiven me, but bided his time. I suppose he convinced you I wouldn’t return? Cast doubt on my character?” He shook his head, a bitter twist to his lips. “Now his revenge is complete.”
HadCaptain Overtree married her out of revenge? Sophie didn’t think so. She surely hoped he had not. She thought again of the captain’s proposal of marriage. He had said he didn’t think Wesley would return for her. He also told her he had reason to suspect he might die while away on duty and leave her a widow. Might he have fabricated both for his own ends, so she wouldn’t question his motives for marrying her in the first place? So she would accept him? She hated to even contemplate the possibility.
Kate came in, curled and powdered and pretty in a frosty blue gown, white ribbon waist and gloves, with delicate blue and white silk flowers in her hair. She beamed in anticipation of their reaction, and Sophie was quick to oblige her. “You are beautiful, Kate.”
