Inside, they left their bags in the vestibule and followed her father into the drawing room.
Augusta O’Dell Dupont sat on the sofa, her prized son, John, four years old and quite plump, beside her. The two little girls crowded around. Mrs. Dupont wore an ornate overdress atop her plain muslin, and a fresh cap in which to receive callers. Stiff, dark pin curls circled her forehead like a second cap.
Sophie neared as if approaching a queen about to sentence her to the tower.
“Hello. Allow me to introduce Captain Overtree. My... husband.”
“Well, is he or isn’t he?” her stepmother asked, her disapproving eyes snapping with questions.
“I am, madam,” the captain replied in her stead. “And we have a copy of the marriage license to prove it.”
“May I see it?”
Sophie blinked. “Why?”
In lieu of answering, the woman extended a long graceful hand.
Sophie pulled the license from her reticule, unfolded it, and handed it to her.
She skimmed it. “I cannot say I approve of your way of getting a husband,” she said. “But everything seems to be in order. Guernsey, hmm? We shall keep that to ourselves.”
She handed it back. “I would have ordered a finer dinner, had I more notice you were coming. As it is, you will have to make do with a plain family dinner of fish and vegetables. And it’s too late to send Betsy for another bream. I trust you don’t mind?”
“Not at all. I’m not very hungry. Captain Overtree may have mine.”
“I suppose you will want a room to yourself. If you like, we can take Martha and Lyddie in with us for the night. How long do you plan to stay?”
Captain Overtree spoke up, the edge to his voice barely sheathed in civility. “You are all goodness, madam. But we don’t wish to put you to any trouble. We shall remove to an inn, if you prefer.”
“An inn? Good gracious, no. This is Sophie’s home. Or it was.”
Sophie said, “The girls may stay with us. We shall lay cushions and blankets on the floor. We don’t mind, do we, Captain?”
He glanced at her, his smile stiff. “Not at all.”
She turned away from his ironic gaze to address her father. “How goes the commission, Papa? Have you completed the portraits of the Miss Simons?”
He grimaced. “Not quite, my dear. I had hoped you would finish the backgrounds for me, but now... well. I am also struggling to capture the eldest Miss Simon. She is not as pretty as her sisters, unfortunately. I am trying to make her look as well as I can, while keeping it reasonably accurate.” He shrugged. “Though she is plain, the shape and brightness of her eyes gave her a certain comeliness. A liveliness, rather like the eyes of Lady Acland, if you recall.”
“Yes, I do. Shall I see what I can do, Papa? If you don’t like it, you can always paint over my changes.”
He seemed about to agree, but his wife frowned and said, “My dear Mr. Dupont, this is an important commission. I hardly think you ought to let Sophie anywhere near it. The background is one thing, but the face, surely...”
Her father chewed his lip. “Perhaps your stepmother is right, Sophie. Let’s not worry about it now. Tell us about your journey and the latest news of Lynmouth.”
They spoke for a few minutes, and then her father showed the captain his studio and offered him a glass of something, which the captain declined. Later, they sat down together to a meager dinner in the cool, starched company of her stepmother and her quiet father.
Soon after, Mrs. Dupont announced it was the girls’ bedtime. She clapped her hands, and the girls scurried off to clean their teeth and dress for bed. Sophie supposed it was their signal to retire for the night as well.
The small room, with its single bed, seemed even smaller with Captain Overtree’s large commanding presence in one corner, arms crossed, watching her every move as she laid cushions, lap rug, and wool blanket on the floor.
“Is this for your sisters’ comfort or for mine?”
“Which would you prefer?”
The housemaid came in to help Sophie with her buttons and stays. When Sophie asked her to step into the small dressing room—little larger than a closet—to do so, the woman looked at her askance. She had not been so modest before.
A few minutes later, when she stepped out in nightdress and dressing gown tied tight, the captain’s gaze swept over her without change in expression. He finished washing hands and face and cleaning his teeth at the washstand, then followed her example and stepped into the dressing room to change as she had.
