But the discovery made Sophie think of another person who loved biscuits, though she decided not to mention it.
Sophie regarded Miss Blake’s profile by candlelight. Such fair skin spotted with freckles a shade lighter than her hair. Such delicate beauty. Such... unhappiness. Sophie wasn’t sure what had happened to her in the past, but knew the woman was troubled.
“Miss Blake, are you all right?” she asked.
“Hmm? Of course. Why should I not be all right?”
“If there is anything I can do. To help. Please let me know.”
The woman’s bow lip twisted bitterly. “How could you help me, Mrs. Overtree?”
“You’re right. There’s probably nothing I can do. But God can. So I will pray for you, if you don’t mind.”
“God? Ha! He abandoned me years ago. Five years ago, to be precise.”
“How did He?”
“He made me believe he loved me, knew I loved him, but he left me anyway.”
Were they still talking about God? Somehow Sophie doubted it.
chapter 28
Wesley was crossing the hall when Thurman brought in the post on its silver tray. Wesley paused and idly fingered through letters to his mother, a new magazine for Kate, and a letter addressed to the Overtree family. He did not recognize the handwriting, but the Brussels postmark certainly caught his attention. He carried the letter into the parlour, but no one was about. He supposed he should wait for one of his parents to open it, but he was part of the Overtree family, after all, and something about the letter sent a prickle of foreboding over him, which made him want to read it immediately—and dread doing so at the same time.
Standing near the parlour window, he unsealed the letter, unfolded it, and read.
To my family,
A few lines to let you know I am alive. I regret you were given cause to think the worst. I have taken saber wounds in both shoulders, one severe. I hope I will not lose the arm. Your prayers are appreciated. I was separated from my regiment for a time, and briefly held as a prisoner of war, but managed to escape by God’s grace. I will write with more details when I am able. For now, I will recover here in Brussels along with many of my men.
Yours,
Captain Stephen Overtree
Cpl A.K.
Exaltation rose in Wesley’s heart. To be the bearer of such news to his grieving family! A second later, his stomach cramped, as he saw his hoped-for future with Sophie fading away. A part of him wished he had pressed his advantage while he could. Sophie had warmed to him again, allowed him to hold her hand, and tentatively smiled at him when their paths crossed. He’d begun to believe it would be only a matter of time before they were together. Losing her now would rip the heart from his chest. Perhaps he should have convinced her to run away with him earlier, but with the war barely over and a child on the way it had not seemed wise. Besides, he’d thought he had all the time in the world with Marsh gone.
For one irrational moment, he considered burning or hiding the letter, to keep the news from Sophie as long as possible. It was foolish, of course.
Even he was not that selfish.
He went upstairs, found Sophie in the attic studio, and extended the letter toward her with little preamble.
“I thought you should see this first.”
“What is it?” She wiped her hands on a cloth and accepted the letter. She read. Inhaled a sharp breath and looked up at him, wide-eyed. “He’s alive!”
He nodded his head, watching her face closely.
She read the letter again, then slowly lowered it, resolutely meeting his gaze. “He’s alive.”
Again he nodded. So many words went through his mind,“It doesn’t mean the end for us... Hedoesn’t even mention you or indicate his regard for you. He doesn’t love you as I do—doesn’t even pretend to. Let’s leave now before hereturns...”But he said none of them.
“You haven’t told anyone else yet?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No one was about when the post arrived.”
