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“My uncle said it was to spite him.”
“Do you believe that?”
She shook her head. “I do not,” she replied. “My father was not one to hold a grudge. At least, I thought he wasn’t.”
“What do you mean by that?”
She sighed. “What if I didn’t know my father at all?” she asked. “What if my uncle is right, and my father was a despicable person?”
“Because he lost money at a gambling hell?” Oliver asked with a frown.
“Not just for that reason, but my uncle said he was also ruthless in business.”
Oliver shifted in his seat to face her. “What do you believe to be true, Emme?” he asked.
She grew silent before saying, “I don’t believe my father was like that. He was kind, loving, and he treated others with compassion.”
“Then hold on to those memories of your father,” he encouraged. “Don’t let your uncle taint your father’s memory, especially since losing money at a gambling hell does not make someone a scoundrel.”
“You are right.”
He smirked. “You will find that I generally am,” he joked. “It is a curse that I must deal with.”
A soft laugh escaped her lips, and she brought her hand up to cover her mouth.
“I enjoy hearing you laugh,” Oliver remarked.
“The feeling is mutual.”
Oliver watched her intently before abruptly rising. “It is late, and I should let you go to bed,” he said, his words sounding hoarse.
“Thank you for making me feel better,” she remarked, looking up at him.
“That is what a dutiful husband does,” Oliver teased.
She watched as he stopped at the open door and spun back around. “Did you tell anyone about the smugglers?” he asked.
“I told my lady’s maid,” she replied. “Was I wrong in doing so?”
“Is your lady’s maid trustworthy?”
Emmeline nodded. “She is.”
“Does she have any connections to Whitstable that you are aware of?”
“Not that I know of.” She eyed him curiously. “Why do you ask?”
Oliver grew solemn as he said, “A member of our household staff may have tipped off the smugglers, allowing them time to move the smuggled goods.”
“Who would do such a thing?”
“I am not sure, but I intend to find out.” He gave her a brief smile. “Good night, Wife.”
After the door was closed, Emmeline removed the white wrapper and draped it over the back of the settee, then went to her bed and slipped between the covers.
As she laid in bed, she hoped there would be a time when Oliver would love her as much as she loved him. Because she did love him.Desperately.
She must have drifted off, because she awoke suddenly sometime later.
