“You’re a good boy.”
Captain Overtree stepped to the window, frowning at the inordinate number of birds fluttering on the ledge outside. “Deuced things—they must be nesting in the eaves. I shall ask Jensen to send a man up...”
“Please don’t, Master Stephen. I have taken to feeding the birds on that little ledge. I hope you don’t mind. They give me such pleasure.”
“Oh. Very well. If you don’t mind the mess.”
Winnie turned back to Sophie and patted her hand. “Well, Mrs. Overtree, you come and visit me whenever you like. But not at night, if you don’t mind. I prefer... daytime visits.”
“Of course.” Recognizing her cue to leave, Sophie rose. “A pleasure to meet you.”
The captain held the door for her, and together they made their way back downstairs.
Sophie whispered, “Does she never come downstairs?”
“Not often. She has become something of a hermit up there, sorry to say.”
“But she isn’t an invalid or anything. She appears quite fit, at least physically.”
He nodded. “Now and again Kate cajoles her out into the garden. Or to church on Holy days. Otherwise she prefers to keep to herself. She always ate her meals in her room or the nursery—with us when we were children—and now on her own.”
When they returned to their bedchamber, he said quietly, “I have known Miss Whitney all my life. She is kind and wise.” He made a rueful face. “She is also the person who told me I would not live to see my thirtieth birthday. I don’t credit it completely, of course. But she’s been right about so many things over the years....”
Sophie stared at him. “Then perhaps your mother is correct, and Miss Whitney’s mind is slipping.”
He shook his head. “I think she is perfectly lucid. Yes, she forgets things now and again, especially when she is tired or ill. But that is normal for her age. Probably doesn’t help that she is alone so much.”
“Has she no friends? Other women in her situation? Retired governesses, or nurses like herself?”
“Not that I know of. Most governesses and nurses are the poor spinster aunts to equally struggling relations and end up in an almshouse somewhere.”
“How sad.”
He nodded. “It is why I have made such an effort to keep her here. I want her remaining days to be as comfortable and secure as the early days of my life were, thanks in great part to her.”
Sophie had never heard the quiet captain speak so much or so warmly about anyone else. She found his loyalty to his old nurse touching and, in this instance, slightly troubling.
“May I ask why you are so attached to Winnie, while your mother and others clearly are not?”
He nodded. “She and Mamma have often butted heads over the years. Winnie thought my parents preferred Wesley, so she in turn, doted on me. Mamma always resented it, I think. As did Wesley.”
“But... she said you weren’t going to live, and you believe her?” Sophie hoped she didn’t sound as incredulous as she felt.
He shrugged. “I know it doesn’t make sense. But I have to allow for the possibility, because I have never known Miss Whitney to be wrong.” His gaze lingered on her face. “Though I hope that this time she might be.”
Stephen’s explanation had been true, if generalized. He could recount many times in his youth when Miss Whitney had inexplicably known things. But as far as the enmity between Winnie and his mother, he would trace its roots to a specific occasion when he and Wesley were adolescents. The housekeeper had reported two medals missing from their grandfather’s desk. Wesley lost no time in reporting that he had seen one in Stephen’s room. Stephen denied stealing anything, but the major—his grandfather’s rank at the time—had given Stephen one of his campaign medals in private, for his last birthday. But he was away on duty at the time and not there to defend him. Stephen had not mentioned the medal to his family before then, since the major had given one only to him, and not to Wesley.
Doubting her father would have given away one of his few prized medals, his mother had not believed Stephen’s version of events. Finding the one medal in his possession was damning evidence in her eyes. She accused him of taking both it and the missing one as well. Stephen faced serious consequences for the theft—he would lose his beloved horse and receive a switching in the bargain. Mamma had even brought in the vicar and tried to force her son to confess. Stephen had rarely felt so powerless. His parents’ trust—gone. His word—worthless.
But then Winnie got wind of what was going on, and stood up to his parents, telling them she knew for a fact Major Horton had given his grandson one of his medals, because Stephen had taken it upstairs to show her, so proud of it he was. His mother had not wanted to believe the nurse. Wesley went so far as to say Winnie had made it up to try to protect Stephen, her favorite. So it had been Winnie’s word and Stephen’s, against Mamma’s and Wesley’s.
Then Winnie delivered a final blow, and said she couldproveWesley had taken the other medal. She proceeded to tell Mamma exactly where to find it—beneath a tray of colored pencils in Wesley’s drawing box. Though how she knew where it was, Stephen never learned. Wesley had tried to deny it, saying why would hewantan army medal, and accusing Winnie of putting the medal there herself, to shift blame to him. Stephen doubted his accusation but had never asked Winnie about it. He wasn’t certain he wanted to know....
At all events, his parents had gone up to Wesley’s room, and the missing medal was back on Grandfather’s desk the next day. As far as Stephen knew, Wesley was never punished. Apparently their parents believed his claims of innocence, and the matter was dropped.
Later, his mother had apologized to the vicar for the “inconvenience.” She had been misinformed, and the medal found. It had clearly galled her to admit she had been mistaken. She was embarrassed and vexed to be proven wrong by a subordinate. And Stephen knew his mother had never forgotten, and probably still resented it.
Stephen had never questioned Winnie’s word on the subject, or any subject for that matter. But now... Sophie’s incredulity about Winnie’s mental state, and about her “prophecy,” gave him pause. Unlike his mother, Sophie was an objective observer. Might there be reason to doubt Miss Whitney’s mind... and her word?
