The Indebted Earl

to the military hospital in Oporto. Rich apologized over and over, but it wasn’t his fault. The ultimate responsibility lay with me, and I failed him. It is a burden I shall bear for the rest of my days.”
Sophie’s emotions bobbed on a rough sea. If he had seen to his duty, Rich would be alive? And he had the gall to show up here expecting her to … what? Say that she forgave him? Tell him she bore him no ill will?
Anger flared through her, and she turned away lest her face should declare her feelings. She wanted to rail at him, shout that it wasn’t fair. Shake her fists and demand why. She wanted answers, and not just from the captain.
Why, God? Why did You allow this to happen? How can this possibly be Your will? She focused on Captain Wyvern’s guilt. For a moment it felt good to have someone tangible to blame, somewhere to put her anger.
The captain waited, shoulders braced, face grim, anguish plain in his eyes. No doubt he was prepared for her recriminations. But what should she say?
What would Rich want her to say? By the captain’s own admission, Rich had tried to take the blame for the incident that had cost him his life.
No, it couldn’t possibly be Rich’s fault. He wouldn’t be so foolhardy when he knew he was coming home to her.
Yet in her heart she knew Rich would have sacrificed his life if it meant saving another. The fire went out of her, and she took a short breath, sinking once more into sorrow and exhaustion.
Was she better off knowing the circumstances of Rich’s death? It changed nothing, other than that she was now forced to make a choice.
A choice that offended her sense of justice. But she could see Rich, compassion in his blue eyes, asking her to do the right thing.
After a moment, she rose and crossed the room. Captain Wyvern stood his ground, hands once more behind his back. “Captain, I appreciate what it took for you to come here.” She spoke kindly even though she didn’t feel kind. “I am certain Rich did not hold you at fault. He would not wish me to blame you either.” She didn’t say she forgave the captain, because she believed in speaking the truth, and his admissions were too new, too raw for her to process just now. Hopefully, emotion would eventually follow action.
The captain took a deep breath, his eyes bleak. “I understand. The major was a good man, and I wish God had chosen to take me instead.”
Sophie needed to free herself from this tangle of feelings. She hadn’t worked through her thoughts on God’s role in Rich’s death, and she wasn’t ready to lay all bare now, especially to this man. “Captain, it is nearly dark. Have you accommodations for the night?” Rich would want her to offer him hospitality, and Mamie would be distressed if she learned he had been here and she had missed his visit. “You are welcome to stay here with us.”
“I had planned to find lodgings at an inn.” His brows knitted. “I do not wish to impose.”
“Please accept the hospitality of Primrose Cottage tonight. If you have no obligations calling you away, we would be pleased to have you as our guest.”
“That is most kind, Lady Sophia. I am grateful.”
Though he looked pained as he said it.
Lady Sophia was both more beautiful and younger looking than he had expected. Which was odd, since Rich had shown Charles a miniature of her, and Charles had known her approximate age. But meeting her in person, he caught a hint of the restless vitality that her letters portrayed and Rich’s stories had told. He felt like a mossy-backed sea turtle in comparison to her fresh-faced youth. Though she was subdued by her loss, her grief did not dampen the intelligent sharpness in her blue eyes.
The miniature had been a good likeness, yet it didn’t do her justice. Especially now, in the glow of the candles on the dinner table. Though she wore a simple black dress trimmed with plain black ribbon, her skin glowed and her eyes mirrored the candle flames. Light raced across her dark-brown hair and created shadows along her collarbones. Lady Sophia sat directly opposite him, with Mamie at the head of the table, and he couldn’t stop looking at Lady Sophia.
He had not asked for her forgiveness, because he could not forgive himself. And she had not offered forgiveness, at least not in so many words. Was it because she could not forgive either? She had tried to hide her feelings, but he had read several emotions on her face: anger, longing, grief, doubt, resignation. Each had played across her features in succession, recognizable because they had mirrored his own. She had said Rich would not hold him at fault. Therefore she would not either. The two had been so in tune that their actions mirrored each other’s. Charles had never had that kind of relationship with anyone, much less a woman he loved. Again that faint pang of yearning struck the corners of his heart.
In spite of whatever misgivings she might have, she had offered him hospitality. Was that too done from a sense of duty and recalling what Rich would have wanted, or was it a demonstration of a generous nature?
Lady Mamie Richardson had welcomed him as if he were a long-lost son. Her delight had seemed genuine, and to his utter surprise and discomfort, she had hugged him. The warmth of her gesture had thickened his throat and roughened his voice. As she squeezed him, she had even whispered in his ear how thankful she was for his coming. When was the last time someone had embraced him? He couldn’t recall.
“What are your plans now that peace has been declared?” Lady Richardson toyed with her lorgnette, twisting the attached ribbon idly. The elderly woman hadn’t eaten much of the dinner, but she seemed