Chapter Twenty-Three
WHILE THE TEA brewed, Robin cleared a small tray and loaded it with two cups, saucers, and a little bent, tarnished spoon. He carried the tray into his living room where Morwenna was sitting by the simple stone fireplace. The room was small and bright and painted the same pale blue as most of the rest of the house. Its white floorboards were as much in need of a new coat of paint as the ones in Robin’s bedroom. The living room was plainly furnished with a settee, which was old when his grandfather was young, and two armchairs. A glass-doored cabinet rested against one wall and was home to some trinkets from various voyages.
He’d inherited almost every piece of furniture from his father, who’d gotten it from his father. Robin never saw the sense in replacing anything unless it was damaged beyond repair. The armchairs, however, had been carved by Duncan. Robin thought many times about getting rid of them, but he told himself that was wasteful.
Morwenna seemed distant. Haunted. They hadn’t spoken much since the scene in her garden a few days before. Things were different now. When Robin looked at her, he didn’t just see the woman who had practically raised him; he saw all the years they’d wasted. All the time she hid from him, denied him. And that’s what it felt like, no matter how much he understood her reasons why, he couldn’t help it. He felt like she’d denied him. He loved her, and she knew that, but somehow it wasn’t enough. It didn’t mean enough. His love wasn’t good enough. It wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair, but right then, it’s how he felt.
“You don’t know how hard it was,” she said at last over the crackling from the fireplace. “Every day, knowing you were so close. I had to be so careful, couldn’t let anyone know or even suspect. I acted as your nurse when I should have been your mother. The first time Erasmus went off to sea after you were born, you came to stay with Barnabas and me. You probably wouldn’t remember—you were only about three years old. Erasmus needed the money, I think. He didn’t want to go, he agonised over the decision, leaving you for so long. He knew what it would mean, what it would do to me. He wanted a better life for you, didn’t want you to have to go to sea for months or years at a time, not like he did, not unless it’s what you wanted to do. And he did it, too. Over time, he provided for you, more than enough for your whole life.”
“Some of it must ’ave been pirate money, though. And ’e said somethin’ about havin’ to go back to his old ship,” Robin said.
“You read his letter, then? In the journal? I suppose it must have been for something more than just the money. Your father liked his secrets.”
“’e weren’t the only one,” Robin said.
He might understand her reasons, but he still felt hurt. If Morwenna was wounded by this comment, she didn’t show it.
“For the two months he was away, you lived with Barnabas and me, and we were like a little family. It was so hard when Erasmus returned and you went back home. So hard. I had to pretend to be happy, happy you were back with your father, but I cried every day for a week. I hid away while Barnabas was working, or took myself off to the Wishing Tree. Lying against it, you can’t see the waves or the horizon. It seems as if the sky falls forever, as if the whole island is adrift among the clouds. I used to dream of sailing away with you and Barnabas. Or you and Erasmus. I couldn’t tell Barnabas that I was sad. I couldn’t even tell your father. It wouldn’t have been fair. Barnabas doted on you, you know. Having a child in the house meant so much to him, to both of us.”
“’E were always so kind to me,” Robin said. “‘E never got angry. ’E always looked after me. I remember bein’ in your ’ouse almost as much as me own. Remember when ’e tried to teach me ’ow to paint? Showin’ me ’ow to ’old a brush and that. I couldn’t even paint a cloud. The patience o’ that man! I never did get the ’ang of it, but some of my ’appiest memories are of watchin’ ’im workin’ on a canvas while you sat and made fishin’ nets for the men—or baked or sewed. You said you should ’ave been my mother, but in every way that matters, you were. Don’t you see, Morwenna? I were the luckiest boy in the world—growin’ up, I ’ad a mother and two fathers.”
She cried again. Heart-deep sobs that sounded as if they were dredged up from the darkest part of her soul. Robin handed her a handkerchief.
“Oh, Robin, he knew. He knew what I’d done. He died because he knew.”
“You said before you always suspected that. Anyway, you can’t be certain. Sylvia Farriner didn’t ’ear what they were arguin’ about. It could ’ave been anythin’.”
“There’s something else.”
Robin braced himself. He wasn’t sure he could handle any more secrets.
“What now?” he asked.
Morwenna pulled at the handkerchief, twisted it.
“The night your father left—the night Barnabas died. I met Erasmus and I told him we couldn’t see each other anymore. Not in…that way.”
Robin furrowed his brow and considered this. “You mean—you two were still seein’ each other? All that time?”
Morwenna nodded while Robin stood up.
“But I thought… I assumed you’d stopped after I was born. Dad never said—in his letter, I mean— ’e never said anything about you two still seein’ each other. Nothin’ about it in the rest of the journal. I thought it would ’ave been too risky, what with you bein’ ’ere so much. Spendin’ so much time around Dad. Too obvious.”
“We tried to stop. We did,” Morwenna wailed. “And it’s true that it wasn’t the same anymore. What we had was different, but it was still… I don’t know how to explain it, Robin. When Barnabas held my hand, my heart calmed. I was at peace. When Erasmus held my hand, my heart galloped. Neither one was better or worse than the other. Both felt right. Both felt like home.”
“So, you told my dad you couldn’t…be together anymore, and then ’e went and told Barnabas about you?”
Morwenna began to shake again. She nodded violently.
“He must have. I told him, and he was so angry. He couldn’t understand why. Why after all this time. I told him it couldn’t go on forever. It wasn’t right.”
“Is that what ’is last journal entry were about?” Robin asked. “The bit about putting an end to something?”
“No. At least, I don’t think so, but when I saw his journal the next morning, those final few lines… Is it any wonder I hid it? How would it have looked to the village?”
She was shaking again and dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. While she regained her composure, Robin poured some tea.
“What made you fall in love with my dad in the first place?” he asked suddenly. Morwenna was shaken by the question and took some time to consider her answer.
“He was wild,” she said at last, still dabbing her eyes with Robin’s handkerchief. “Like a force of nature. A hurricane. He blew through this village from the moment he could walk. Not an inch of it went unexplored by him. He climbed every tree in the woods, kissed every girl, sailed in every boat. We were the same age, and we palled about together, but we were never…you know. Together. We were friends, but that was all. He had too much of a roving eye to ever settle for me. He went off to sea when he was twelve, I think? Maybe thirteen. Young, anyway. Him and his dad, Jonas. Proud as could be, they both were.”
“’E said ’e were scared. In ’is letter,” Robin said. He still had trouble picturing his father as a young boy.
“I know, but he didn’t show it. He never showed it. A few years later, I met Barnabas and we fell in love. We were so happy together. And then Erasmus came back alone. He’d grown so much. The wildness was gone, he was quieter. Focused. Something had happened to his father, but he would never tell me what it was. He was just gone. As he tried to settle down in the village he’d left as a boy and returned to as a man, we spent a lot of time together.
“It’s a terrible thing, Robin, to be in love with two men at once. When I looked at Barnabas, I saw my future, everything we could have together. But Erasmus was the past, my past.
That’s a very difficult force to resist. He’d changed, but inside, he was still the boy I knew my whole life. We kissed for the first time under the Wishing Tree. The moon was full and the moths were in flight. We’d spent the afternoon walking around the coast, Barnabas had been struck by his muse and had to work while he could. I don’t know why I did it. It just…felt right. But Erasmus was wracked with guilt. The next morning he left in Bucca’s Call and I didn’t see him again for another two years.”
“’E made an ’abit of runnin’ away from ’is problems,” Robin said. “Maybe that’s where I get it from.”
Morwenna nodded. “By the time he’d come back, Barnabas and I had realised we’d never have children. It was a difficult time for us. He’d wanted to be a father so badly. Erasmus and I, we picked up where we left off. I couldn’t control myself. I know it’s pathetic; I know it’s not right, but I couldn’t. Something had changed in him. He wasn’t scared anymore. He knew what he wanted.”
Morwenna had begun to cry again now. Robin raced to her side. He knelt by her and took her hand in his. Much of this he’d already known from Erasmus’s journal, but hearing it from Morwenna’s side made it more real for him.
“Finding out we’d never have children of our own, it was so hard to accept, and seeing Erasmus again, it was all too much. He’d take me out around the islands at sunset, in Bucca’s Call. The sea would blaze in these incredible colours. He showed me the edge of the world. The edge of my world.”
Thinking of his father deliberately pursuing a married woman made Robin uncomfortable. It was an act that fell far short of the ideal he’d always held his father to. Whatever his feelings about how he’d been abandoned, Robin had always thought of Erasmus as a fundamentally good and honourable man, but between all of this and finding out he was a pirate, it was a notion that had well and truly been quashed.
“You read ’is journal. You knew ’e were a pirate,” Robin said.
“Yes, though he never spoke about it at the time. And before you ask, I didn’t know about the Battle in the Bay or the Caldera. I didn’t know it was really a pirate ship.”
“Were you ever going to tell me the truth?” he asked. “You could have at least told me about the piracy.”
“How could I? You idolised your father. When he left, I thought you’d never recover. And if you were to lose the picture you’d built of him as well? I couldn’t do that to you, not when you were so young.”
“I’m a lot older than I used to be,” Robin said, forcing a little smile with his pale lips. He could see she was choosing her words carefully, as though she knew that a sharp, ill-chosen word could easily shatter him.
“I feel cheated. I was going to tell you everything. When I was at your bedside in the Moth & Moon, after you collapsed, I planned it all out. I was going to invite you round to my house and tell you what really happened; I was going to give you his journal. But you got to it first. So many times, I’d wanted to confide in you, and just when I’d finally plucked up the courage, the rug was pulled from under me. It was too quick, too brutal, and much too public.”
“’Ow did you not realise you were pregnant?” Robin asked. “I mean, I know this isn’t exactly my area of expertise, but couldn’t you tell?”
Morwenna laughed at this through her tears.
“I don’t know what to tell you. It happens sometimes, Robin. It happened to one of my aunties. She got quite a shock one morning in the middle of a sewing circle.” They both laughed at this. It felt good; it felt like before.
“I’m going to ’ave to stand up now, because my knee is absolutely killin’ me,” Robin said as he clambered to his feet. Every joint in his legs popped and cracked as he got up. “I know why you didn’t tell Barnabas. I understand what it would ’ave done to ’im. You gave me up for ’im. For the both of you.”
It was easy to see why no one had guessed their true relationship. He towered over her, broad-shouldered and formerly blond, with soft, round features. She was short and had been dark in her youth with sharp eyes and nose. Robin took after his father.
“That’s…that’s not exactly true…” Morwenna began and stopped. “Or maybe it is. I’ve never thought about it in quite that way before. You said your father ran away from his problems, and that’s where you got it from. Well, I do it too, in a way. I waited too long to stop things with Erasmus. I waited too long to tell you the truth. And you do it, too. I see it in you. You wait for things to happen, wait for problems to fix themselves. Wait for other people to make the first move.”
She raised her eyebrows at this and he knew what she was getting at. “What are you waiting for, Robin?”
Chapter Twenty-Four
THE VILLAGE WAS a hive of activity. People worked tirelessly to repair the damage caused by the hurricane. Eva and Iris insisted their house staff tend to the needs of their own families and properties before worrying about the relatively minor damage sustained at Wolfe-Chase Lodge.
It was just approaching sunset when they arrived at number 5 Anchor Rise.
“Ladies Wolfe-Chase, thank you so much for comin’,” Robin said as he opened his sky-blue front door.
“Thank you for inviting us,” Iris said cheerfully. “Was there something in particular you wanted to discuss?”
Eva pulled off her elegant velvet gloves. She was dressed in a deep purple taffeta dress, which swished noisily as she moved. Iris was wearing a more modestly styled floral cotton dress, the same hue as Robin’s door.
“There was. Please, come in, come in,” he beckoned, leading his guests into his living room.
The fire blazed in the hearth and cast a cosy glow around the room. On her way in, Eva took in the surroundings of Robin’s home. Though she lived only a few doors away, she had never been inside before. The house was warm and inviting, and its narrow hallway didn’t feel cramped, as she had imagined, but more like a friendly embrace. She looked up to the first floor landing and saw the striking portrait of Captain Erasmus Shipp. She felt his ghost was watching over her, waiting to see what she would do next. Mrs. Whitewater was sitting on an armchair by the fireside in the living room and greeted the women cordially.
“May I offer you both some tea?” Robin asked.
“Actually, Mr. Shipp, if this is about what I suspect it’s about, we might be better off with something a bit stronger,” Eva said.
“Fair point. I’ll get the good stuff,” he said as he unlatched his cabinet and removed four small glasses. “And you can call me by my first name, you know. We’re not fancy ’ere.”
“Sorry, Robin,” Eva said, the name still sounding odd on her lips. “Force of habit.”
From a decanter, he poured some whiskey and handed one each to his visitors, beckoning them to sit on the settee while he plonked himself on the vacant armchair. “And while we’re at it, you can call ’er Morwenner.”
Morwenna caught Eva’s attention and playfully rolled her eyes as she sipped from her tumbler. “Mrs. Greenaway told me it was you who Sylvia Farriner overheard speaking of Erasmus Shipp’s pirate past.”
“Ah, yes. I’m sorry about that, I hadn’t realised she was listening,” Eva said, somewhat taken aback.
“Don’t worry. I saw how you stood ready to leap to my aid should things with Sylvia turn physical. I won’t soon forget that. Not to mention it’s because of you we know of Erasmus’ heroism in defending the village. For that, I will always be thankful. We both will. Now, what’s this all about, Robin?”
“My father’s disappearance,” he said.
He told them about Erasmus’s journal and the letter it contained.
“Dad wrote about that man you mentioned, Oughterlauney,” Robin said. “Said ’e were part of ’is crew for a while. Said ’e were a troublemaker, a violent man. ’e kicked ’im off the boat. In your father’s records, did you read anythin’ about ’im? About what ’e were up to when the Chase Company ships found ’im? Why do you think my dad would sign onto a vessel under ’im?”
&nb
sp; Eva thought about this, trying to divine Erasmus’s motivations.
“Well, the thing is, we don’t know if he actually signed on to be a crewmember. That’s a bit of information that seems to have been repeated so often it’s become the truth. Usually, if a ship sinks, my father launches a full investigation, but obviously this was an exception. We have none of the Caldera’s records. We don’t know what your father was doing on board.”
She paused there when she saw the growing disappointment in Robin’s face. He’d obviously pinned all of his hopes on her possessing some kernel of information that would clear up this one, final mystery.
“Perhaps Captain Oughterlauney had threatened him?” Iris suggested. “We know your father marooned him and stopped him from attacking the island. Maybe he came back here for revenge. Threatened him. Threatened to hurt you, even. Pirates have all sorts of arcane codes of honour and conduct. Your father might well have surrendered himself to save you. Sacrificed himself.”
Robin’s brow furrowed as he considered this new possibility. In private, Eva would later swear she could actually hear the cogs turning in his mind.
“Morwenna, did you speak to Captain Shipp that night?” Iris asked.
Morwenna nodded. “He was rattled—preoccupied. I stopped him on the road.It was late and we had to talk quickly. He said he was on his way to speak Barnabas. He could have already been threatened by Captain Oughterlauney by that point, I suppose. He was angry, flustered. Frightened, I think. He rushed off away from me. I called to him, but he wouldn’t stop. It was the last time I saw him.”
Eva wasn’t prone to affectionate displays and was surprised by the urge she felt to hug Morwenna, who looked so very forlorn at that moment. She knew it would be inappropriate, although she suspected it would be secretly welcomed.
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