“Does Matthew know?” Oliver carefully asked.
“Yes,” she replied. “He started asking questions about his father last year when a new wireless station chief came here with his wife and children. They often play together, and the oldest asked Matthew wherehis father was. Matthew didn’t know the answer, so he asked me.” She paused and sipped her tea. “I’d never intended to keep it secret from him, because I’ve come to learn that secrets never stay hidden. I knew that if I kept the truth from him, he’d find out eventually and resent me for not telling him.”
“That’s true. He probably would have.”
She nodded. “So, after I told him, I dug out all the letters his father had written to him from prison, which I’d been stuffing into a box. I read a few of them to him, and I’ve been using them to help him learn how to read.”
“You’re a good person, Emma. Not every mother would be so honest or levelheaded about it.”
She laughed. “I didn’t say I wasn’t tempted to burn each one to a crisp whenever they arrived on the supply ship.”
Oliver chuckled also. “In any case, you did the right thing.”
She took another sip of her tea. “I hope so, because it’s confusing for Matthew. More than once, he’s asked if his father is a bad man. All I can do is try and help him understand that sometimes adults make mistakes.”
“That’s true.” Oliver had made his own share of them.
For a moment, he gazed pensively toward the window, then returned his attention to Emma. “But killing someone is a rather gargantuan mistake. What were the circumstances, may I ask?”
“He claimed self-defense,” she explained, “but the court didn’t agree. Some people thought it was murder because there was a clear motive. He’d been having an affair with the man’s wife.” Emma paused. “In the end, he was found guilty of manslaughter, but I’ll never know for sure if that was the right verdict, because it’s obvious that I didn’t know the first thing about the man I married.” She finished her tea and set the cup in the saucer.
Oliver gave her a moment. “How long will he be in prison?”
“The sentence was twelve years,” she explained, “but you never know. He could get an early release.” She ran the pad of her fingeraround the rim of her teacup. “But that’s enough about me. I’d rather hear about the shipping business. How is it?”
“Going well,” he replied. “Better than I could have imagined.”
“That’s wonderful, because I remember your concern after what happened to theBelvedere.”
He nodded. “It took a while to sort through all that, but I’m pleased to say that I’m now captain of my own ship, and I own two others.”
Emma’s eyebrows lifted. “Goodness! Congratulations. How did that come about?”
He wondered how much he should reveal, and in the end decided to bare all because she had just done so, and for some reason she still had that same old effect on him. With Emma Clarkson, he couldn’t seem to keep anything to himself.
“I have a patron,” he explained, “who wanted to keep me at sea and ... let’s just say reward me for certain loyalties.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Such as?”
“Discretion regarding my wife,” he candidly explained.
Oliver studied the expression in Emma’s eyes. She was interested, curious, engrossed, so he continued.
“My father-in-law has friends in high places, as it were, and he wanted to avoid the scandal of a divorce—which I wanted. So, he introduced me to an investor who made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. We’re partners now, and in return for the favor of the introduction, I’ve agreed to turn a blind eye to my wife’s affair.”
“But what about your children?” Emma asked with sympathy.
Oliver swallowed heavily. “That’s the fly in the ointment, so to speak. But I was able to make sure that my presence in their lives was part of the arrangement. I see them every time I return to England, and we usually go on a holiday, just the three of us. But I’m away a lot, so it isn’t easy. Sometimes I feel as if I’ve sold my soul to the devil, in a way.”
The front door opened, and Matthew ran into the kitchen with a fist full of flowers. “I found some!”
Emma stood and took them from him. “Well done. These are beautiful. I’ll put them in water.”
While she retrieved an empty vase from a shelf and filled it at the sink, Matthew sat down on the chair she’d been occupying, rested his chin on his small hands at the table, and stared at Oliver. “Are you staying for supper?”
Oliver wasn’t expected back at the ship until dusk, but he would never dare to presume that Emma wished to extend an invitation.
She returned to the table with the flowers and set them down. “The captain is welcome to stay if his schedule allows. What do you think, Captain Harris? Would you like to join us? I know my father would be disappointed if he missed you.”
