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and
couldn’t earn an income. How were they to survive? And then a smaller group of
veterans with missing limbs, who complained that the colder-than-average spring
was making it difficult to move about. For the blind veteran, Charlie withdrew a
stipend of fifty pounds, all he could afford until Harriet’s money began
trickling in. And for the others, they came up with a schedule of therapy
involving taking the waters on a twice-weekly basis.
    He spent most of his time with a young ensign, the former scion
of a wealthy family, who had braved the battlefield at a very early age, and
become mute from the experience. The lad could write down a few words, and
Charlie could scratch out words on foolscap, though it was hard to hold down the
page with his prosthesis so he could write fluently with his right hand. From
their exchange, he was able to ascertain that the lad needed help—regular
conversation, even if he just listened as someone else spoke. But whom, and
when? Ah, that was the problem. He would find some way to help Rowland, but it
might take time.
    When he finally had a moment’s pause, he looked anxiously down
the pews to see how Sophie was faring. He hadn’t meant to leave her alone for so
long. Was she beside herself with nervousness and anxiety? No, quite the
contrary. She was sitting in the back of the sanctuary on the floor, with two
children in her lap. A group of widows were gathered around her, talking
quietly. Sophie was listening intently, replying with a soft word here or a nod
there. Her spencer was long gone, as was her bonnet, both strewn across a pew
with abandon. As he watched the tableau, a child reached up and touched one of
her bobbing curls, which made her laugh.
    His heart pounded gratefully. She seemed to be coming along
very well. In fact, she seemed to have already won the trust of those
widows—women who’d barely spoken two words to him before, who kept their eyes
cast down and their lips compressed in thin lines when he asked how he could
help them. She was going to be an extraordinary asset.
    As the church bell tolled the lunch hour, the group began to
drift apart. After shaking hands with a few of the departing veterans, and after
expressing his thanks to the reverend, Charlie started up the aisle to retrieve
Sophie.
    She smiled as he helped her back into her spencer, and bent to
kiss one of the little girls on the cheek as she left. Then she tied on her
bonnet and took his arm decisively. He sucked in his breath a little at the
feeling of Sophie next to him. She had such vibrancy, such life about her. His
existence, so gray and dull until he met her, now pulsed with color. She would
assuredly make a man very happy someday.
    She exhaled sharply, blowing out a puff of air as they left the
church, turning her head up to the sky.
    “Are you tired? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you alone for
so long,” he apologized.
    “Not at all. I think I got on very well with many of the women.
And the children were darlings,” she replied, grasping the crook of his elbow
more firmly as he led her down the steps. “I think the women need money,” she
added in an undertone. “Many have no means of income, and several have children
to care for. Without a steady flow of money, some of them have been reduced—or
nearly so—to rather desperate circumstances.”
    Just as he suspected. He stopped, turning to face her. “You
will help me, then? These women, they respond to you. Together, we can help keep
them from turning to occupations that are beneath them.”
    She gazed deeply into his eyes. “Of course I will help you,
Lieutenant. Did I not already promise to?”
    “Yes, you did. I just wondered if, once you saw how things
were—”
    “That I would gather up my skirts and flee in horror?” She gave
a modest chuckle. “Surely I am better than that.”
    He couldn’t bear the challenge in those blue eyes any longer.
He directed their steps back toward the street. “I do need your