Someone knocked softly. “Miss Dupont? It’s me.”
She recognized his low voice.
“Don’t panic. I’ve only come to bring you something to eat.”
She rose on unsteady legs and unlocked the door. Captain Overtree stood there, candle lamp in one hand, a bowl of something in the other.
“Thought you might be hungry...” He studied her face by candlelight. “Are you all right? You look unwell.”
“Sea travel doesn’t agree with me.”
“Ah. Sorry to hear it. Maybe eating something will help?”
She took one whiff of the fish soup and her stomach wrung. She turned and retched into the basin. How mortifying! At least she need not worry he would find her attractive and be tempted to rush the honeymoon.
“I’ll see if I can find some bread or something plain.” He left, taking the offending soup and the basin with him. Her ears burned in embarrassment to have him do so.
He returned a short while later and handed her a hunk of crusty bread wrapped in brown paper.
“Better?”
She nodded and accepted it gratefully. “Thank you.” She nibbled a piece, then said, “I have managed a few hours of sleep, if you would like a turn.” She gestured toward the bunk with a nervous hand.
He removed his hat. “Perhaps I’d better, or I shall not be fit for anything tomorrow.”
He stretched out on the bunk fully clothed, crossing his hands over his chest. Eyes closed, he said, “How can I sleep with you watching me?”
“Oh, sorry. Shall I go up and take some air while you sleep?”
He opened his eyes. “No. Please stay. I won’t sleep if I have to worry about sailors ogling you. Or worse.”
“Very well.”
He closed his eyes again. She sat on a small stool in the corner and pretended not to watch him. He turned on his side—the scarred side of his face pressed into the pillow. A few minutes later, his breathing slowed and he apparently slept. Sophie leaned her head back against the wall, took deep breaths to ease her nausea, and prayed.
The bed ropes creaked, and her eyes flew open, thinking he’d awakened. But he had only turned over in his sleep. She leaned near, looking more closely at the jagged, angry-looking scar snaking into his side-whiskers. She wondered how he’d gotten it but doubted she really wanted to know.
When they neared St. Peter Port the following day, Sophie tidied her hair, donned her lace cap and shawl, and repacked her valise. Together they disembarked and easily found their way to the stately brown-brick Town Church overlooking the harbor—its tall steeple visible from the docks.
Inside they saw another couple before them, a doe-eyed brunette and her attentive lover. Their adoring gazes and secret smiles made Sophie feel all the more self-conscious, standing beside this stiff, austere man who barely glanced at her and certainly wasted no smiles on her.
They met the Reverend Mr. Partridge, who smiled enough for the rest of them, and who would conduct the wedding for a fee. His amiable wife and grown son, who also served as parish clerk, would act as witnesses.
When their turn came, Sophie and Captain Overtree walked up the aisle to the altar. Sophie held the silk flowers Mrs. Thrupton had given her, chagrined to see them tremble in her hands.
How awkward she felt standing with this stranger, forming vague smiles as the cheerful clergyman explained what would happen next, and asking the requisite questions: had they both come of their free will to be married, their ages, and so on.
Tension emanated from Captain Overtree. Was he having second thoughts? She could not blame him if he were. For her part, Sophie felt oddly numb. Her decision made, she went through the motions without resistance or deep thought, as though performing a role in a play.
With his wife and son looking on, the parson began, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God... to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony; which is an honorable estate... signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and His Church; and therefore is not by any to be enterprised unadvisedly, lightly, or wantonly, to satisfy men’s carnal lusts and appetites, but reverently, discreetly, advisedly, soberly, and in the fear of God...”
Sophie’s heart beat hard at the parson’s words. Were they entering into holy matrimony “unadvisedly, lightly, or wantonly”? A chill went up her neck at the thought.
The parson continued, “First, it was ordained for the procreation of children, to be brought up in the fear and nurture of the Lord...”
Would she and Captain Overtree have children together? Sophie wondered. It seemed difficult to imagine when he would barely look at her, let alone touch her. But he was a man of faith, apparently. So might he help her raise the child she already carried to love and fear the Lord? She hoped so—if he lived. Even though faith had not played a role in her upbringing, she wanted it for her own child.
“Secondly, it was ordained for a remedy against sin, and to avoid fornication...”
