Oliver’s gaze rested on Emma’s face, and he could barely comprehend the heights of his elation. “I’d be delighted. And we’re old friends, Emma. I think it’s time you called me Oliver.”
Matthew looked up at his mother and grimaced. “He talks funny.”
Emma gave him a stern look. “That’s not a polite thing to say, darling. Please say you’re sorry.”
“I’m sorry,” Matthew said sheepishly to Oliver.
“Apology accepted,” he easily replied. “But you’re quite correct. I do speak differently, because I’m from England, and I have what they call a British accent. And you have a Canadian accent.”
Matthew looked up at Emma again. “Is that true, Mom?”
“Yes, it’s true.”
When she smiled at Matthew and rubbed the top of his head, Oliver saw a joyful light in her eyes and recognized that old spark in her. He was relieved to see that it had not gone out completely, and something in his heart took to the air.
“Do my eyes defy me?” Emma’s father asked jovially as he walked through the door with his cane and spotted Oliver rising from thesofa in the great room. “Captain Oliver Harris! I saw a ship anchored offshore and wondered if it was you.” He set his cane against the wall and limped toward Oliver to shake his hand.
“It’s good to see you, John.” Oliver patted him on the back. “You look well.”
“As well as can be expected.” He turned to Emma. “What a surprise, eh? You must have fainted with shock.”
“Not quite,” she replied with a chuckle as she helped John remove his coat. “But it was definitely a surprise.”
“How long can you stay?” he asked Oliver.
“I told the crew I’d be back before dark.”
Her father checked his watch. “Well then. We’ve got a few hours. You’ve been invited for dinner, I assume?”
“I have.”
“Then let’s not waste time. We should have some brandy. Emma, will you join us?”
“I need to finish making dinner first,” she replied. “But I’ll bring you the drinks tray.”
“Wonderful.” Her father limped to his chair in the great room. “Just like old times, eh?”
“Old times and good times,” Oliver replied. “With the exception of the sinking of theBelvedere, of course.”
Emma’s father slapped his thigh. “Good God. Let’s not mention that. Ah! Here comes the brandy. We’ll drink to better days ahead.”
A short while later, they all sat down in the kitchen to dine on duck stew and fresh bread for dipping. Matthew finished his entire bowl and remembered all his table manners, and the conversation was relaxed and friendly.
“Are Abigail and Philip still here?” Oliver asked, reaching for another slice of bread.
As Emma dabbed the corner of her mouth with her napkin, she exchanged a look with her father. He scratched behind his ear—a gesture that was his habit when he needed time to formulate an appropriate response to an awkward question.
“They left the island for greener pastures,” he said. “When was it, Emma?”
“April of ’49,” she helpfully replied.
Oliver turned to her. “Where are they now?”
“Back in Halifax,” she told him. “Philip has family there, and he still works for the federal government, studying and reporting on the weather.”
“And Abigail? Is she working as a nurse?”
“She’s retired,” her father quickly put in.
