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Authors: The Dutiful Daughter
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their use. He must know that they could not be a part of the Season without making an investment in clothing and entertaining costs.
Hope suddenly rushed through her. If Edmund was willing to pay for a Season for his two cousins, a dear investment of hundreds of pounds for clothing alone, maybe he would allow them to use that money instead to fix up the cottage. The small inheritance she had from her father would not be hers for another year...or until she married.
But she would not need to marry if she could take care of fixing up the cottage before she moved in with her mother and sister. Her hope was followed quickly by uncertainty. How could she ask her cousin to agree to such a plan without insulting him? Handling this would require God’s help in finding the right words.
Father, show me the way.
Maybe the cottage would not need expensive work. She had not visited it for many years. Last time the odors of damp had made her sneeze, and the skitter of rodents had sent her and Catherine fleeing. She should have gone after Papa died, so she would know what needed to be done to make the house comfortable. She vowed to visit the little cottage farther inland the very first chance she had.
In fact she would be happy to go right now...and avoid Lord Northbridge. She could not, not after what she had said to him last night.
Sophia made sure she was smiling while Lord Northbridge and his children continued toward them. Her expression faltered when the earl’s step stuttered, and she realized he had just noticed her beside his friend. Did he wish to pretend last evening had not happened...as the men seemed determined to forget the war? He might, but she needed to apologize for her heated words.
“Good afternoon, Northbridge,” her cousin called. “Make sure you hold tightly to your children in these winds. You may need calling-bands to keep them from being blown away.”
Gemma scowled at Edmund’s suggestion that she was still young enough to wear cloth strings that her father could hold like a dog’s leash. The little girl’s expression changed into a grin when Sophia bent to give her and her brother a hug.
Squatting so she was on a level with the children, Sophia asked, “Are you having fun seeing the sea?”
Michael’s glum demeanor dropped away, and he bounced up and down like a marionette. “So big! Looks like the sea by Grandmother’s house.”
“That is because it is the same one.” Gemma rolled her eyes.
“Are you sure?” he asked, looking from his sister to Sophia. “Can’t be. Right, Sophia?”
“ Miss Sophia,” his father corrected quietly.
Michael ignored him. “It cannot be the same sea. We rode days and days.”
“Yes, ’tis the same one,” Gemma retorted.
His face tightened, and Sophia was astonished how his eyes sparked as his father’s had in the book-room. “Not true!”
Sophia took Michael’s hand and then Gemma’s. Looking from one to the other, she said, “Michael, your sister is being honest with you. The sea goes around England.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” Sophia nodded as the anger eased from his face. “And do you know what is even more amazing than that? Your father and his friends have gone across the sea.”
Both children spun away from Sophia and faced their father.
Excitement brightened their eyes, startling Charles. He could not recall a single time they had regarded him without suspicion or anger. This was a welcome change. A very welcome change. Wanting to thank Sophia, he kept his focus on his children.
“Is that true?” asked Gemma, mistrust creeping into her voice.
“Yes.” He pointed toward the eastern horizon. “Over there is Europe, just past the point where the sky and the sea meet. There are cities and fields and...” He faltered, not willing to speak in the children’s hearing of what he had seen there.
“And,” Sophia said quickly to fill the silence, “perhaps a boy and girl like you standing on that shore and wondering about
Hope suddenly rushed through her. If Edmund was willing to pay for a Season for his two cousins, a dear investment of hundreds of pounds for clothing alone, maybe he would allow them to use that money instead to fix up the cottage. The small inheritance she had from her father would not be hers for another year...or until she married.
But she would not need to marry if she could take care of fixing up the cottage before she moved in with her mother and sister. Her hope was followed quickly by uncertainty. How could she ask her cousin to agree to such a plan without insulting him? Handling this would require God’s help in finding the right words.
Father, show me the way.
Maybe the cottage would not need expensive work. She had not visited it for many years. Last time the odors of damp had made her sneeze, and the skitter of rodents had sent her and Catherine fleeing. She should have gone after Papa died, so she would know what needed to be done to make the house comfortable. She vowed to visit the little cottage farther inland the very first chance she had.
In fact she would be happy to go right now...and avoid Lord Northbridge. She could not, not after what she had said to him last night.
Sophia made sure she was smiling while Lord Northbridge and his children continued toward them. Her expression faltered when the earl’s step stuttered, and she realized he had just noticed her beside his friend. Did he wish to pretend last evening had not happened...as the men seemed determined to forget the war? He might, but she needed to apologize for her heated words.
“Good afternoon, Northbridge,” her cousin called. “Make sure you hold tightly to your children in these winds. You may need calling-bands to keep them from being blown away.”
Gemma scowled at Edmund’s suggestion that she was still young enough to wear cloth strings that her father could hold like a dog’s leash. The little girl’s expression changed into a grin when Sophia bent to give her and her brother a hug.
Squatting so she was on a level with the children, Sophia asked, “Are you having fun seeing the sea?”
Michael’s glum demeanor dropped away, and he bounced up and down like a marionette. “So big! Looks like the sea by Grandmother’s house.”
“That is because it is the same one.” Gemma rolled her eyes.
“Are you sure?” he asked, looking from his sister to Sophia. “Can’t be. Right, Sophia?”
“ Miss Sophia,” his father corrected quietly.
Michael ignored him. “It cannot be the same sea. We rode days and days.”
“Yes, ’tis the same one,” Gemma retorted.
His face tightened, and Sophia was astonished how his eyes sparked as his father’s had in the book-room. “Not true!”
Sophia took Michael’s hand and then Gemma’s. Looking from one to the other, she said, “Michael, your sister is being honest with you. The sea goes around England.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” Sophia nodded as the anger eased from his face. “And do you know what is even more amazing than that? Your father and his friends have gone across the sea.”
Both children spun away from Sophia and faced their father.
Excitement brightened their eyes, startling Charles. He could not recall a single time they had regarded him without suspicion or anger. This was a welcome change. A very welcome change. Wanting to thank Sophia, he kept his focus on his children.
“Is that true?” asked Gemma, mistrust creeping into her voice.
“Yes.” He pointed toward the eastern horizon. “Over there is Europe, just past the point where the sky and the sea meet. There are cities and fields and...” He faltered, not willing to speak in the children’s hearing of what he had seen there.
“And,” Sophia said quickly to fill the silence, “perhaps a boy and girl like you standing on that shore and wondering about
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