Page 69 of Miss Beresford and the Beast

“I thought that if I could read just one, I might better understand you,” Charlotte said.

He directed a dubious look over the pile of letters that covered the bureau’s writing surface.

She followed his gaze. Guilt washed over her face. “Oh no. I didn’t realize…” Her face flamed. “Did I really read them all?”

“It appears so.”

“I must have lost myself.” Her blush deepened to crimson. “I’m so sorry, Magnus.”

He picked up one of the letters from the desk, scanning the faded writing. The long-ago words sank into his soul, conjuring every feeling he’d felt when he’d written them. The loneliness. The despair. The deep sense of injustice.

I sail as a midshipman on the HMS Euryalus on Monday. We are bound for Japan. I pray that through my efforts on behalf of the Crown I may someday redeem my honor in your eyes.

Magnus tossed the letter back onto the desk with a snort of contempt. “And did it?” he asked. “Help you to understand me?”

Charlotte’s blue eyes were soft with emotion. “I don’t know. There’s still so much that puzzles me.”

Magnus’s muscles tensed at the expression in her gaze. It was too close to compassion. “What’s the puzzle? My father cast me out. He cared only enough for my welfare to secure a place for me in the Navy. I was dead to him after that. Not worth a thought. At the time, I believed it was his pride. That when I’d proven myself, he would welcome me back. It’s why I continued writing to him of my exploits, despite never receiving a reply.”

“You wrote to him earlier than that,” she said. “There’s a letter here that you sent eleven years ago, shortly after you left Yorkshire following the inquest. You explain everything to him about Miss Farr and her brother in scrupulous detail. The account of your conduct is identical to the one you gave me yesterday.”

He stiffened. “You assumed it would differ?”

“No,” she said. And then again, more earnestly, “No.” She stepped toward him, setting her hands on his chest. “But I was relieved all the same to have my instincts about you confirmed.”

Magnus was still as stone. It took a herculean effort to ignore the gentle press of her palms.

“Your father was wrong, Magnus,” she said. “He shouldn’t have abandoned you when you needed him most.”

“I didn’t need him.”

“Everyone needs their father. And if that father falls short⁠—”

“I’m the one who fell short. My father’s actions make that abundantly clear.”

“But he did still care for you, despite sending you away. You said yourself that he may have been responsible for your rise through ranks.”

“He might have been.” The hateful notion had occurred to Magnus several times in the early years of his naval career as he’d swiftly risen to the rank of captain. “Why else do you think I left the Navy? I had no right to be lauded by my superiors. Protected by my father’s wealth and title while Miss Farr and her brother lay moldering in the grave.”

She searched his gaze. “Can’t you forgive yourself?”

His throat tightened. “I have no right to.”

“You do. It was a terrible thing to have happened. I can’t imagine how terrible. But it wasn’t your fault. It was a dreadful accident.”

“That doesn’t absolve me of blame.”

“Rubbish. Mr. Farr was as much to blame as you were. More, for he was older. You were still just a boy.”

“I was nearly seventeen. That’s hardly⁠—”

“You deserved better,” she said.

He stared down at her, a fathomless tension coiling in his breast. So much within him wanted to believe her. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. “You don’t know what I deserve,” he said huskily.

A line etched her brow. “You think me young and naïve, I know. Even silly, perhaps.”

“Not silly,” he said. “Inexperienced.”