Sophia smiled drearily. “Thank you, but I don’t think she would try to hurt me again. She probably didn’t mean to yesterday either—she must’ve known someone would rescue me.”
“But she also knew you could not swim,” Anne said. “It was cruel and dangerous at best.”
Sophia’s eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t let them fall. “True. Will you knock on the door when they are ready for me? I’ll just pack the last of my things—my comb and my handkerchief and so on.”
“Yes, I will. Minnie says your dress has dried—they hung it on the line overnight—but your boots are still rather wet. I’ll bring them to you presently.”
So it was, shod in damp boots that squished a little as she walked, Sophia readied herself to cross the gangway again. A broader plank had replaced the narrow one from last night, with a rail on one side. She kept her hand on the rail as she went over, shuddering as she remembered the briny water surging upher nose. Her gray muslin dress swished around her legs as she hurried across.
It was a bright, sunny morning with a blue sky that a good Englishman would rhapsodize about. Anne and Caroline were already on the wharf, dressed to see the city. Sophia’s small chest of things already waited on the wharf with several other trunks that must belong to Mr. Belvedere.
To her surprise, there were church bells ringing from at least three neighborhoods of the city. Unless she’d gotten very confused, it was not Sunday—only mid-morning on a Tuesday…
Sophia staggered a little as she reached the wharf.
“Careful there.” Captain Wentworth steadied her. “Your sea legs are overcompensating on land.”
Anne squeezed Sophia’s hand. “Lady Marston and Sir Mark were taken over in the first trip to the consulate. Captain Smythe gave them the gist of the situation, but from what he says, there is quite an uproar over the news of a recent battle.”
“Is that the cause of the bells? And—cannons?” Sophia asked. There was another throbbing boom, then another.
“Thundermugs,” Colonel Fitzwilliam explained. “Those are cannon for celebration and commemoration, not war. We received word that Wellington has broken the French at Vitoria. Lisbon has gone a little mad with joy.”
Captain Smythe came down the gangway with Mr. Belvedere, who also carried a large satchel as well as his cane—looking every inch the slightly-dandy young man that had first come aboard.
“Fine morning.” Mr. Belvedere waved his cane toward the colorful city. “It’s like a painting! Seems to be a devil of a lot of people about, too—Is there a parade?
“There was a victory at Vitoria,” Captain Wentworth said. “The dockside taverns are pouring port like water.”
Captain Smythe sighed. “Aye, the streets will be a revel-rout, but we’ll get through. Come along, you two! Even you must be glad of this news about Wellington.”
“Oh, I am,” said Mr. Belvedere. “I am absolutely chuffed.”
They formed their own small parade as they walked along the wharf. Anne and Wentworth came just behind Sophia.
Anne spoke softly, probably not intending for Sophia to hear. “My dear, I really don’t feel I can sightsee and celebrate today. It is so terrible. I simply can’t watch her locked into that carriage and then go off to have a lovely day.”
“I know, my love, but there is nothing more you can do for her. Captain Smythe must go on to Barcelona on schedule. If we wish to see any of Lisbon, we have only today and tomorrow.”
“Yes, I know.”
“And you need time away from the ship. As do Caroline and Richard. We must put a good face on it.”
The wharf turned and led to the actual shoreline, a commercial district full of warehouses and markets for the bustling port city. There were many about on this fine June morning, and everyone with a jubilant air.
The city enthralled Sophia despite herself. The smell of smoke and bread mixed as they reached the streets, but it was not unpleasant because the sea breeze kept the air moving. She had expected to see many with the olive-brown skin and jet-black hair of the Mediterranean, but there was a broad range. Many people had lighter hair and skin than she did. Most of the clothing could’ve been seen anywhere in London or Paris, but a few women wore traditional outfits that reminded her of a Spanish dancer she had once seen in a book.
A job carriage awaited them, and Captain Smythe directed his men to stow the trunks on the back.
“Should one of us go with Mrs. Scott?” asked Caroline. “It isn’t very proper for her to lack a female companion.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” said Captain Smythe, “but it can hardly be improper with myself along. Nor is it very far.”
Sophia and Mr. Belvedere were gestured within, but Anne embraced Sophia before she was put on the carriage. “You’re stronger than you know. Don’t give up.”
“Thank you, and I wish you all the best. All four of you.”
The captain climbed in the carriage after her, seating himself next to Mr. Belvedere. “Don’t think to try anything, sir. I told the consul I’d deliver you next. They already sent for one of the EIC representatives to examine you.”
