Page 42 of Heartbreaker of the Ton
“A friendship founded on deception will crumble eventually, daughter,” he replied. “If you are to be truly at peace, then you must accept the truth—and let others accept it also. If theycannot give you their good opinion, then they do not deserve you. But it’s your burden to bear and your confession to make, if you so wish.”
Papa was right. A good opinion founded on deception had little worth.
But would she ever be willing to risk Andrew’s good opinion by revealing the truth of her sins? Not when she valued his friendship more than anything.
Anything except…
As if he’d read her thoughts, a familiar cry came from Gabriel’s chamber upstairs. Etty stood, her cheeks flaming. Her father’s disappointment in her behavior must pale in comparison to his disappointment at being so loudly, and rudely, reminded of the fruits of her ruination.
He rose and caught her hand. “Daughter…”
She flinched, awaiting the sermon.
But it never came. Instead, a pair of solid arms drew her into an embrace. She clung to him, curling her fingers around the lapels of his jacket, inhaling the faint aroma of spices and cigar smoke.
“Papa, I’m…”
“Hush,” he breathed. “There’s nothing to say. Let your silly old papa hold you for a moment. I’ve missed you—my beloved daughter.”
Moisture stung her eyes and she blinked. A tear splashed onto his jacket, disappearing into the fibers. At length, he released her and kissed the top of her head.
“Now,” he said, “there’s one thing I’m very much looking forward to—and that is meeting your boy. GabrielLeonard, eh?”
“Do you mind?” Etty asked.
“That you named him after me?” A broad grin stretched across his face. “There’s nothing that could make me happier. I only hope I prove to be a better grandfather to Gabriel than Iever was a father to you.” He retrieved the satchel and pulled out an object. “Recognize this?”
It was a toy boat, carved from wood. The sails, fashioned from cotton, were threadbare around the edges, the material yellowing—but given its age, it was in excellent condition. And it had taken pride of place in Etty’s father’s study for as long as she could recall.
“Your boat?”
He held it out and she took it, running her fingertips over the body, the thin grooves carved in the shape to resemble the planks of wood. Her father had never let either of his daughters touch it, much less play with it. She turned it over in her hands, running her fingertips across the inscription on the side.
H.M.S. Howard.
“My father made that for me when I was younger than Gabriel,” he said. “He always said that if a man was capable of making something with his own two hands, then he would never go hungry. A fine man, he was—and I grew up determined one day to have a ship that I could call my own. Poor Father despaired of me when I showed a singular lack of talent for shipbuilding, but he encouraged me to pursue my own business interests, and when I finally commissioned a ship of my own, I named it after him, in his honor—though he didn’t live to see it. But he taught me to work hard, to take care of myself. This ship is a reminder of the man he wanted me to become.”
Etty stared at the toy boat, her eyes misting with tears.
“I didn’t know,” she said. “I-I can’t take this if it means so much to you.”
“Yes, you can,” he said, “preciselybecauseI value it. It serves as a symbol of my father’s—your grandfather’s—determination to make a better life for himself and those he loved. It’s a determination that has passed to you, dearest daughter, and Ihope and pray that your son inherits it, and grows up to be as fine a man as my father.”
He pulled her to him and placed a kiss on her forehead.
“And now I think it’s time I met my grandson, don’t you?”
Blinking back tears, Etty nodded, and, arm in arm, they exited the parlor.
Chapter Twelve
“Sweet Lord—is thisit? Does Mrs. Smith livehere?”
Andrew glanced at Etty standing beside him, a basket hooked over one arm. “This is herhome,” he said.
“But it’s so small!”
“It’s no smaller than the others we’ve visited.”
