Reaching the bedchamber, Sophie saw the girls had not yet arrived. She rang for the maid and ducked into the dressing closet, taking down her hair and plaiting it herself while she waited. The housemaid appeared and helped her undress, then stayed to tidy up the tiny room and hang up Sophie’s things.
Sophie stepped out alone and saw Captain Overtree’s bare back as he pulled his shirt over his head. The muscles in his arms and shoulders rippled as he did so, and his back was smooth and taut. He turned at the sound of the door, and her gaze was drawn to his chest—masculine muscles, coarse hair, and a scar running shoulder to chest.
“Sorry,” he said. “I thought I had time to change before you returned.”
Sophie swallowed. “No, I’m sorry. That is... I... finished early.”
She averted her eyes, and he quickly pulled his nightshirt over his head. She wanted to ask about the scar but feared raising a painful subject.
The door banged open and the girls flew in, jumping into bed as usual. “Tell us one of your magic paintbrush stories, Sophie.”
“Oh yes, do!”
Captain Overtree raised his brows. “What, pray, is a magic paintbrush story?”
Lyddie supplied, “We tell Sophie what to paint with her magic paintbrush, and whatever we say comes to life, and she tells us a story about it.”
“Sophie makes them up as she goes,” Sophie said modestly. “And some of them are very poor indeed.”
“Not poor. We like them. Don’t we, Martha?”
Martha nodded vigorously, curls bouncing.
“I don’t know that I should. Your Mamma wants us to be quiet.”
“We’ll be quiet. Please!”
“Mrs. Overtree,” the captain said, sitting cross-legged on the cushions. “I for one would enjoy hearing such a story.”
Sophie felt her cheeks warm to hear him call her by that title.
Lyddie smiled. “Me too.”
“Me three!”
“Shh. Very well. They’re just little made-up ditties. But if you insist, I shall try. You all must help me. Once upon a time there was a...”
“Beautiful princess!”
Lyddie frowned. “Martha, you always say that.”
“Then how about a plain princess instead?” Sophie suggested. “A more... realistic tale?”
“Verywelllll...” Martha pouted.
“Once upon a time there was a plain princess. One day, while she was...?”
“Outside in the garden.”
“One day when she was outside in the garden, she took her easel and paints with her. She painted the colorful flowers and fruits she saw there, wishing she were half as beautiful as just one of the most ordinary blooms. Suddenly, whom should she meet, but....”
“A big hungry bear!” the six-year-old cried.
Captain Overtree gave the child a lopsided grin. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Oh, Martha. Not that again.”
Sophie nodded. “That’s fine, Martha. She met a big hungry bear. So, thinking quickly, she picked up her magic paintbrush and painted a...?”
