“Kate will be heartbroken, you know.”
“Yes. But she has you.”
“Do Mr. and Mrs. Overtree know?”
Sophie imagined that Mrs. Overtree was probably reading her letter right then and was thanking the Lord they were rid of her.
“I have left letters to inform the family,” she said. “I could not wait for everyone to come down. I was in such a hurry. Mrs. Thrupton kindly came all this way to accompany me, but she has a business at home and cannot be away for long.”
A knowing light glinted in Miss Blake’s green eyes. “Found out, did they? And they blame you?”
Sophie swallowed a nervous lump in her throat and met the woman’s gaze, without confirming or denying anything.
Miss Blake formed an apologetic little smile with her childish bow lips. “I am sorry, Sophie. Truly. I believe I understand how you feel.”
“Do you?” Sophie murmured.
Miss Blake slid the reins into one hand and patted her arm. “You know I adore the Overtrees—well, most of them—but they can be most fastidious and not terribly forgiving.” She added, “I don’t mean Stephen, of course. He will not be happy to learn you’ve left.”
“No. But Stephen isn’t here.”
“And Wesley is—is that it?”
Again, Sophie thought it wisest not to comment. “Could you let me down at the post office?” she asked. “I need to post a letter.”
“To the captain?”
Sophie nodded.
Miss Blake held out her gloved hand. “I can do that for you.”
Sophie hesitated.
Miss Blake sent her a wry glance. “Don’t trust me, hmm? I promise you, you have nothing to fear where Stephen is concerned.”
Angela halted on the High Street and handed Sophie the reins. “Hold these for me, will you? At least let me hop down and post the letter for you. Much easier for me, than for you in your present state.”
Sophie reluctantly relinquished the letter, watched through the window as Angela posted it and climbed back into the gig. Then they continued down the street to the coaching inn.
The Devonshire Express was already in the yard, while the guard and coachman made ready to depart. Sophie waved to Mrs. Thrupton, standing near the door, straw bonnet tied beneath her chin and carpetbag in hand. The woman’s look of concern melted into a relieved smile upon seeing her arrive.
Mrs. Thrupton hurried toward the gig, with a curious glance at Miss Blake.
Sophie introduced the two women, and then Mavis helped Sophie down. She insisted on taking her valise from her and stepped away to hand it up to the guard, who was busy stowing baggage on top and rear of the coach.
Sophie watched the activity without really seeing it, thinking of the morning she, Mavis, and Captain Overtree had set off in a similar carriage for their elopement. How long ago it seemed. If she could go back in time would she make a different choice? Refuse his offer?
No...
She prayed he felt the same.
“Godspeed, Mrs. Overtree,” Angela said.
“Thank you, Miss Blake. Take care of yourself.”
“Of course I will. No one else has applied for the job.” Angela picked up the reins. “Now I shall hurry back to the hall and see how the news is being received—and who needs comforting.”
Wesley recognized Sophie’s handwriting with a twist of dread in his gut. It wouldn’t be good news. He took the letter into his room and read.
