“That is... unfortunate. For a girl, I mean.” He could not quite hide a wince at seeing it.
“It is only a birthmark,” Sophie said.
“I know. It’s just... Ah well. At least it is on her neck and not her face. A well-placed collar or shawl shall easily conceal that little flaw, never fear.” He raised the blanket to Mary’s chin and kissed her perfect cheek.
Then his eyes shifted to Sophie, his expression more sorrowful and humble than she had ever seen it. “I am sorry, Sophie. Sorry for everything. When I thought I was about to die, so many regrets filled me. So many mistakes....” He wearily shook his head.
“It’s all right,” she whispered. “God has turned our mistakes into something good. Something better than I deserve.”
“Don’t say that. You deserve every good thing life has to offer. Someone better than me. But are you sure this is what you want?Marsh?”
“Never more so.”
Wesley sighed and lifted his palms. “Well then, I surrender. Let’s not keep him waiting.”
Taking the child awkwardly in his arms, Wesley used his shoulder to push the door open wider. “Marsh? Come in here, if you please.”
Captain Overtree rose from the table, left arm wrapped, but forgoing a sling. He entered the room, looking from one to the other. Then his eyes lit on the child.
Wesley held Mary out to him, as though a gift. An offering. “Here she is, Captain. Your daughter.” His voice hitched as he said it, and Sophie’s heart twisted in reply.
Stephen’s eyes flashed to his brother’s, and a look passed between them. He held out his large hands and gingerly accepted the bundled infant, carefully gathering her in his arms.
“Hello, Mary Katherine. How beautiful you are.” He gave his brother another look, begrudging humor in his eyes. “Lucky for her she looks like you rather than me.”
“Do you think so? I think she looks like Kate, as Sophie said.”
“Yes, I do see a bit of Kate in her.”
Wesley inhaled. “Well, I shall leave you. I hope you three shall be very happy.”
Stephen asked, “And what about you? Will you go home and make things right with Angela?”
“I will try. But how can I, really? Seeing Mary now gives me an inkling of what Angela went through because of me. What she gave up. Forever...” Again he shook his head.
Confusion flared. “What do you mean?” Sophie asked.
When Wesley hesitated, Stephen murmured, “I’ll explain later.”
Wesley drew himself up. “I will at least apologize.Trulyapologize. Even if I had a mind to do more than that, I imagine CK has won her over by now.” He managed an unconvincing grin. “Not my week with women.”
“And after that?” Stephen asked.
“Oh, I think I might sail back to Italy, now that Napoleon is exiled again. See if my Mona Lisa is still out there somewhere.”
“If you think that’s the best course.”
Wesley gave his brother a wry look. “I’m surprised you aren’t prodding me to stay home and do my duty by the estate if not Angela.”
“Are you really surprised?”
“Ah. Want me gone, do you? And the more miles the better?”
“For now, yes.”
Wesley’s gaze rested on the child once again. “I won’t forget Mary. In fact, I shall bring her something back from Italy. A christening present, perhaps. I will strive to be a proper uncle to her.”
“That is good of you.”
