Page 37 of Trouble

Emily glowered openly at him, and he only raised an eyebrow back and gestured for her to lead the way.

It felt like a very long walk up the stairs and into the study. It wasn’t as unnaturally neat and empty as some of the other rooms in the house; there were battered books on the shelves, a sextant and compass on the desk – as if it wasn’t enough to just beinthe Royal Navy, he had to accessorise nautically, too. On the wall was an enormous painting of a sunset over a mirror-calm ocean, a lone ship breaching the horizon. Emily sat down and waited for Captain Edwards to take his seat on the other side of the desk, but he stayed standing, searching for something in a stack of papers on a side table.

‘You were arguing with Oliver,’ he said eventually.

‘He was arguing with me, sir,’ said Emily, sounding petulant but beyond caring. ‘I saw him with Aster the other night. When you were .?.?. During your dinner party. They were outside together after dark, and Aster looked upset, and I thought that perhaps Oliver .?.?. I thought he might be .?.?. taking advantage.’

Captain Edwards looked up at her, astonished. There was a fine scrape of stubble on his chin, mostly dark, but with a little grey around the edges; he was not taking care of himself in the ways that a gentleman should.

‘Taking advantage?’ he said. ‘Oliver?’

‘You didn’t see how they were together,’ said Emily, still breathing out pure exasperation. ‘And Aster is .?.?. I know what it’s like, to feel angry and powerless and to rely on the kindness of a man who offers help, but if that man has ill intentions—’

‘He doesn’t,’ said Captain Edwards.

Emily was getting very tired of people acting as if she were making all of this up for fun and japes; she sat back hard in her chair and folded her arms.

‘How on earth can you be so sure?’

‘Because I know him. I have known him for a long time. That will have to be sufficient for you.’

‘I am not entirely sure that you understand the .?.?. thedynamicsthat could be at play here—’

‘Right, of course,’ he said, his voice steely. ‘Because I .?.?. What was it you said before? I don’t know my children at all?’

If he wanted her to squirm, she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. She could stare just as well as he could, and so she did. He had brown eyes, nothing to write home about, ringed with the sort of naturally thick, dark lashes that only ever seemed to be gifted to men. The prolonged eye contact was starting to feel odd – Emily didn’t spend a lot of time locking eyes with people, if she could help it. She was getting through it by pretending that his face was not really a face at all – perhaps just a statue or a portrait or an oddly shaped cloud – when his gaze dipped slightly, breaking the spell.

‘Would you like a drink?’

Emily’s staring renewed, for entirely different reasons. His voice had dropped out of its usual military register; it was softer, almost mellow.

‘A drink?’

‘Well, I’m going to have one,’ he said.

As she watched, he opened a drawer in the bottom of his desk and pulled out a bottle of whisky. It was half-empty.

‘Ah,’ he said, lifting it towards the light and tilting it, swirling the amber contents. ‘Hmmm. This was sealed.’

‘Aster,’ said Emily.

It wasn’t a question, and Captain Edwards did not pass comment, although he did look a little more defeated.

He poured himself a generous measure, and then sat down, cradling his drink in his hand. Emily watched the slow, considered way he brought the glass to his lips and then savoured the whisky, letting out the tiniest exhalation when it hit his tongue.

‘I cannot tell you all the reasons I trust Oliver,’ he said. ‘But I do. I trust him with Aster – with both of my children – and I know he would never let them come to any harm. And .?.?.’ He broke off for a moment, considering. ‘I realise now that things with Aster have .?.?. progressed. I should not have been so quick to blame you, last night. I was upset.’

It wasn’t quite an apology, but it wasalmostone, even he was talking as if every word pained him. Emily didn’t know what to do with it.

‘It seems that Grace is already very .?.?. fond of you,’ he said, watching her over the top of his glass, as if trying to figure out exactly how she could have tricked his daughter into feeling that way.

It was all suddenly too much. Emily didn’t want Grace to be fond of her. She didn’t want to care if Aster was intent on ruining her life, disappearing into caves and coming home drunk and barely conscious. It was none of her concern what Oliver got up to, and she certainly put no stock in what Captain Edwards thought of her. She didn’t want him to be sorry. She didn’t want him to look at her at all.

The entire point of being here had been to get in and out, making as little impression as possible – to be so invisible that she was beyond reproach or investigation. How could she ever manage that, if Grace started beaming every time she walked into a room, and Captain Edwards felt compelled to invite her into his study and offerwhisky, of all things?

She had thought herself so unremarkable that it would not be a problem, but these people insisted on wanting to know her, even as she resisted with every fibre of her being.

‘Will that be all?’ she said, knowing she was being impertinent, from the tilt of her chin to the fact that she wouldn’t meet his eye.