“Then what is it? I rather like how we started off.” When she didn’t answer, he rolled to his other side, away from her. “Goodnight, my dear.”
19
Sophia finally left her room the following day. Despite everything, she could not stay in her room for the rest of the voyage. The next few days slipped past far too fast for her liking. The other ladies played the harpsichord, hemmed handkerchiefs, wrote in their journals, and otherwise wiled away the time. By tacit consent, no one suggested playing cards.
They made plans for Lisbon. Caroline wanted to see the Belem Tower and the Jerónimos Monastery, for she’d heard them much admired by ladies who had traveled to Portugal. Captain Wentworth, who alone of them had been to Lisbon, agreed and also added that if there was time, they should visit theFeira da Ladraor Thieves’ Market.
“Is it quite safe?” Anne asked.
“I wouldn’t send you alone—or even with a maid—but for the most part, yes. It is not all thieves, although I am sure there are some. It is merely an open-air market with all sorts of curiosities, art, and historical treasures. My sister acquired several beautiful tiles there, among other things.”
All of this Sophia pretended to be interested in, while really her mind was centered on only two things: the thrice-cursed mail and Mr. Belvedere, still locked in his cabin.
The shore of the European continent became visible as a dark line on the fourth day of the week, and on the fifth day the shape of the Portuguese coast began to delineate itself.
And still the closed door to Mr. Belvedere’s cabin preyed on her mind. She found herself staring at it in spare moments. The silence from within was deafening, even in the midst of other noise. Was he angry? Was he despondent? Was he afraid or was he scheming?
Most importantly, why didn’t he turn on her? Was it possible that he was abiding by the promise he’d made her? Sophia’s poor heart writhed in uncertainty and guilt.
She could’ve drawn the dreadful door from memory by then. She knew the oak panels intimately and each knot and swirl. She knew the off-color corner, and the squeaking upper hinge. She knew the two dents that must have been made on a previous journey, and every splinter and scuff.
Every morning and evening she sat there for her meals, plus teatime, while the guilt gnawed at her. His door was situated near the head of the dining table and there was no escaping it. Sometimes the others would catch her staring. They tactfully pretended not to notice.
And if the bleak door hiding its silent, dreaded prisoner was not bad enough, she also had her task to complete. It had seemed so simple once upon a time.Oneletter to destroy in three or four weeks of sailing. ‘Twas a small price to pay to accompany Lady Marston on this journey. They would collect Sir Mark’s inheritance, Sophia would receive a small competence, and she would leave her former life far behind.
But it was impossible. Therealwaysseemed to be sailors about, or the surgeon sitting up late in the dining room with alamp and a lexicon, or Captain Smythe leaving his cabin to walk the upper deck in the late reaches of the night.
That morning she encountered Captain Wentworth in the dark early hours, for he “always rose early when he was at sea. Could he perform any service for Mrs. Scott?”
She had run into each of them in turn and had given excuses. To fetch a maid, to get water, to stretch her legs… She did not so much as turn her eyes in the direction of the deeper cargo hold, but she knew she had only to twitch in that direction, and they would clap her up in her own cabin.
She finally managed a word with Lady Marston and told her so. “I cannot do it. Ican’t.Perhaps with both of you helping me, it might be possible. But alone? No. And it is no use threatening me that we are almost there, for I have been threatening myself for days, and it is still impossible.”
Lady Marston, although cold and severe, was not an idiot. She saw the sincerity in Sophia’s desperation. “So you’ve failed. So be it, I will take a hand, but I hope you don’t expect the same amount of the inheritance.”
Sophia raised her chin, trying to sound firm. “You will hardly leave me with nothing when I might inform against you.”
Lady Marston’s fingers clenched. “Are you threatening me?”
“No… but I am reminding you of your promises.”
Lady Marston forced her claw-like hand to relax. “I think we understand one another. We have at least one day left and two nights. The captain says we will reach Lisbon tomorrow night if this wind holds, and then we can disembark the following morning.”
“So soon! I had an idea—if you were to request something from one of your trunks, perhaps we might go together to retrieve it. No one would dare let me in the cargo hold alone, but if you went with me, or even by yourself alone?—”
“Do not be stupid, child. If Ididwant something from a trunk, I would send the steward to fetch it, or to fetch the trunk to me. And if I insisted upon going there, you can be sure he would accompany me.”
“Oh, that’s true, he probably would.”
“If only you’d had that ideabeforeall this nonsense, it would’ve been to some purpose.”
“Yes. Ugh, Ialmostwish I had accepted Mr. Belvedere’s offer of help.”
“Youtoldthat bounder?—”
“No, of course not! I told him nothing. But he knewhehad not tampered with the mail or stolen the necklace, so he deduced it was me.”
Lady Marston gasped. “The necklace. That is the answer.”
