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Hugh rose from his seat. ‘How long have you known?’
Albert swallowed. ‘When Oliver turned five, you invited children from the local area who were born that same day to his party at the Hall – do you remember?’
Oliver, Carys and Abigail exchanged glances.
‘Of course I remember,’ Hugh said indignantly. ‘There were two children from the local area. A little girl and a boy.’
Albert nodded. ‘Abigail and Toby.’
Hugh raised his eyebrows. ‘I remember the boy who came with his mother.’
‘Yes, that was Joyce.’
‘She left the party early, taking the boy with her,’ said Hugh. I remember that because I recall he didn’t stay long enough to blow out his candles.’
‘I think she’d always suspected the truth,’ said Albert. ‘But it was the birthday party when Joyce knew with certainty that the babies had been switched by mistake. You couldn’t fail to see the resemblance between Toby and his older sister, Carys.’
There was a long silence. Abigail guessed that Joyce had been afraid the Somervilles would take away her adopted son. That’s why she’d left the party and taken him to London.
‘Daphne saw it too. And so did I when she showed me the home movie after I demanded to know why Joyce was suddenly packing her bags, leaving the cottage, and taking our son away to London. That’s when I found out Toby wasn’t our son; that our son was being brought up by Lord Somerville at Somerville Hall.
A heavy silence permeated the room. Albert looked at Oliver. ‘I wanted you back. I wanted Daphne and Joyce to tell the truth and to give Toby back to Hugh. He’d lost his wife in childbirth; he didn’t deserve to lose his son too.’
Abigail swallowed. It suddenly dawned on her, now the truth had come to light, what Hugh had lost. He’d never have a chance to get to know his son, Toby.
Oliver finally spoke up. ‘What happened to change your mind? About having me back?’
‘Daphne persuaded me. She made me think about your future. If I kept my mouth shut, you were going to be the next Lord Somerville, inheriting a vast estate. Could I take that away from you? What did I have to give you? I don’t even own this lighthouse.’ He looked at his son with pleading eyes. ‘You and Toby had spent the first five years of your lives in different worlds, with different families. It would mean taking you both away from everything and everybody you’d ever known and handing you to strangers.’
Hugh had something to say on the matter. He glanced at Oliver. ‘Was there another reason Daphne wanted her son to stay where he was?’
Albert looked away.
‘I knew it!’ Hugh slapped his knee. ‘She didn’t believe in primogeniture – well, not the part that passes it down the male line. As the eldest child, she always believed the estate, everything, should have passed to her. What sweet revenge on her father, on me, if her son became the next Lord Somerville! Even though nobody would know,shewould know, and it must have tickled her pink to think she’d got one over me.’
‘That’s not true – is it?’ Oliver asked Albert.
Albert heaved a sigh. ‘I didn’t want to believe it of Daphne. I thought it was about your future, Oliver, about you, and what was good for Toby too.’
‘Something changed your mind,’ Hugh said flatly.
‘It was Joyce who made Daphne put the cottage into a trust for Toby when she found out Toby was the rightful heir to Somerville Hall. She wanted her adopted son to get something in the future from the Somervilles. Daphne didn’t want to do it. She was afraid the truth would come out. Then, years later, she said something to me that made me question her motives for not telling you the truth, Hugh, about your son.’
Albert paused.
Hugh narrowed his eyes. ‘Tell me what she said.’
Albert shifted in his seat. ‘She said,my brother took away everything that should have been mine, so through a twist of fate, I’ve kept something precious of his.’
Everyone turned to look at Hugh.
Albert continued, ‘Before she died, she did tell me that it was her biggest regret in life, and that it was her biggest fear in death that she’d never be forgiven for what she’d done.’ He sighed heavily. ‘Things were never the same between us after that party. I forgave her, later on when she expressed her regret – of course I did – but she never got to have that conversation with you, Hugh.’
Hugh sat back down in his seat, deflated. ‘I’d heard rumours in the village that she’d been having an affair for years. I didn’t know with whom, but when I got a call to say that she was asking to see me before she died, I … I refused.’
‘I think she was intending to tell you, Hugh. She made Joyce and I promise we wouldn’t. It was her secret to tell, her penance to make, but she never got that chance. After she passed away, I didn’t know what to do. I believed, after all these years, that nothing good would come out of telling the truth – I still believe that.’
Albert hung his head. ‘I knew it was wrong – not telling the truth after that party, Oliver. But all I could think was what Daphne told me. I got to see you and spend time with you when you visited Daphne at her cottage, but I couldn’t take you away from your wonderful life.’
