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Chapter Twelve
Once, many years ago, when Seth had been working down on the docks, trading with some of the seamen there, he’d run across a man who’d recounted the most ridiculous tale.
He told of a captain who, furious at one of his men, chose to stretch a plank of wood out over the ocean waves and then forced the man to walk out on it and demanded that he jump overboard.
It struck Seth as odd, especially since such a punishment would require that the offending man throwhimselfoverboard instead of simply being tossed into the sea.
He’d written the whole story off as nonsense.
No one would do such a thing to themselves.
And yet, here he was.
This must be what walking the plank felt like.
Seth wasn’t exactly on a ship at sea, neither was he walking over a thin board jutting out precariously over the waves.
He wasn’t walking at all, truth be told.
He sat at the foot of a grand table in Charlotte’s London home, directly across from her, quite far away, at the head. Either side of the table was lined with their children and children-in-law. Eliza sat near his left, followed by Adam, Rachel, and lastly Christopher. His second daughter—actually his niece, but he’d stopped calling her that years ago, as he loved and cared for her as though she were his own—and her husband had arrived in London that afternoon and planned to stay only through Saturday. Though no one had said so aloud to him, Seth highly suspected this meeting was the precise purpose of their short visit.
On his right was Dinah, followed by Henry, Susan, and lastly William.
So, perhaps this was less like walking the plank and more like standing trial. But when one stood trial, there was always a chance of release, albeit it small.
Seth had no such chance.
“I know what you’re all thinking,” Seth spoke to the room as a whole, every eye on him. “I should never have committed to attending the meeting tomorrow.”
Nearly everyone started talking at once. Eliza insisted that she understood why he’d done it. Dinah spoke loudly that she thought it a grand idea—that it was about time her father stepped up and proved he wasn’t as backward as society too clearly believed.
Susan leaned across the table, explaining to Rachel exactly what had happened the other day at Hyde Park and why it could prove harmful to Charlotte’s standing among the other committee members. William and Adam, sitting at opposite corners and nearly yelling to be heard by one another, seemed in agreement that Seth was certainly in the wrong to have insisted he attend. It could only lead to more problems. Christopher and Henry both listened more than spoke, but they occasionally interjected thoughts, most of which Seth couldn’t hear over the ruckus.
Charlotte alone was saying nothing. Their eyes met from across the far length of the table.
“I’m sorry,” he mouthed.
Charlotte smiled softly back. She seemed to be saying not to worry. They would figure it out.
After everyone spoke over one another for a time, Charlotte placed both hands on the table and stood.
The room fell silent almost immediately.
“The aim is for us to help your father,” she said, speaking mainly to Seth’s daughters, “to make a good impression on the committee tomorrow. They need to see that he is one to be trusted.”
Dinah spoke up first. “I thought the goal was for us to convince the committee your head hasn’t been emptied of logical thought and instead filled with romantic notions toward my father.” She followed it up with an innocent blink, one that was too overt to be anything but fake.
Seth felt his face redden slightly at the statement. Charlotte, too, seemed caught between embarrassment and laughter.
Rachel leaned in toward Christopher. “I think more has happened in our absence than we realized.”
“Yes, Dinah, that is the overarching goal,” Charlotte said, regaining her composure. “But allowing the committee members to realize what an excellent man your father is will certainly help pave the way.”
For the next while, their family played at being the committee members. They asked him questions and voiced doubts over his responses. They talked over him, then ignored him when he spoke up. Generally speaking, they were the worst sort of lot, all in an effort to help him.
They were clear regarding their feedback as well.
First Seth was too blunt. He ought not speak so forcibly, he was told. After that, he turned too silent. Apparently, he looked a bit like a curmudgeonly old goat when he sat quiet for too long.Thanks for the comparison, Dinah.
