When she entered, Miss Whitney turned from the window. “Oh, hello, Mrs. Overtree.”
Sophie glanced around the room. “Where is the captain? I thought he would be here with you.”
“No, he hasn’t been up to see me today. But I saw him. He rode off a quarter of an hour ago.”
“Did he?” That surprised Sophie.
“Mm-hmm,” the woman said, her gaze returning to the window. “I’ve just been bird watching.”
Sophie crossed the room to see what had captured the woman’s devoted attention. Besides a very fat pigeon, she saw no birds at present. But down below across the drive she did see Kate and young Mr. Harrison talking over the churchyard wall again.Bird watching, indeed.
She decided not to comment. Instead, she held out the biscuits on the linen napkin like the friendship offering it was.
Miss Whitney’s eyes brightened. “Thank you, my dear. I adore biscuits.”
Sophie noticed an overflowing glass dish of wrapped sweets on the table. “And you like sweets, apparently.”
Miss Whitney shook her head. “Not particularly. But they are a sweet victory.”
“How so?” Sophie asked, confused.
Miss Whitney chewed her lip. “Don’t tell Stephen, but I rarely eat them. They stick to my teeth. But he’s been giving them to me for years on my birthday and at Christmas, and I hate to hurt his feelings.”
“Perhaps I might think of a tactful way to suggest another gift?”
“Oh, I don’t mind. I find uses for them.”
“What else do you like, Miss Whitney? I shall keep a lookout for your favorites.”
“I like fruit, especially berries. But it’s a bit early in the year. Otherwise, I’m not particular. The only foods I cannot tolerate are turnips and shellfish. Cook knows that and sends them up often.” Winnie made a funny face and sighed. “At least my cat enjoys the fish. I have yet to find a taker for the turnips.”
Sophie grinned. “Surely Mrs. John doesn’t send fish and turnips every night.”
“No. But she is stingy, that one. Sends up the smallest portions—leavings by the looks of it. A crust of bread, a chicken leg, a dollop of pudding. I may be thin, but I need to keep up my strength. Probably thinks I sit about all day and night and don’t need to eat. But it’s not true. And what Idoget, I have to share with Gulliver and the birds. She refuses to send up anything especially for them. I dare not complain to the mistress. I don’t want to give her any reason to send me packing.”
“Surely the captain and Kate wouldn’t let that happen.”
“I don’t worry when the captain is in residence, but after he leaves...? And as far as Kate, I am fond of the girl, but I think if her mother or Miss Blake made a big enough fuss, she would go along with plans to put me out.”
Winnie sat down, took a bite of her biscuit, and asked eagerly, “Now. How goes married life?”
“Well, I... I don’t know,” Sophie faltered. “There are many adjustments to make when one finds oneself bound to a man she barely knows.”
“And not the man you thought you’d marry.”
Sophie reared her head back in surprise. “Excuse me?”
“I... only meant that the person we first meet is not often the person we come to know on longer acquaintance.”
“Ah. That may be. But Captain Overtree is a good man. I see that.”
“He is indeed. The best of men. I’m glad you recognize that. So many seem to prefer Master Wesley, even though Stephen is kinder than his handsome brother. To me at least.”
Sophie thought it wisest not to delve into the subject of Wesley and which brother she might prefer.
Instead she asked the woman, “Did you never think of marrying?” Sophie thought again of having blurted out this same question to Captain Overtree. She’d been unsettled by his refusal to answer.
“I thought about it often,” Winnie replied. “There was a shoemaker I considered marrying once. Perhaps I should have. I didn’t love him, but he would have provided for me. I wouldn’t find myself living alone, all but forgotten in the only home I’ve known for the past thirty years.”
