Marina Venables sat at the end of her garden, staring out at the North Sea. It was a sunny afternoon in the middle of May and the sea was glorious, almost as smooth as a lake. The deepest of blues were flecked with crests of white.
She was in the middle of a painting of the sea and still held the paintbrush in her hand. She put it down on the palette and sat back in her chair.
Thoughts of James Falconer had entered her head, and she was focused on him, still somewhat awed by the way he had managed the collapse of the warehouse, how he had led and handled the men, and had saved all of their lives.
Just imagine, she thought, if he hadn’t gone outside to take off his jacket and roll up his sleeves and then walked back to the warehouse. He wouldn’t have seen that slight movement just under the roof. The men inside, and James himself, would have been killed, buried under bricks and mortar. But he had gone out and he had noticed the imperceptible shift, rushed back inside, yelling at the men to run for it. He had herded them out just in time. James and the crew had stood there dumbstruck, watching the warehouse slowly move, sway, and collapse in front of their eyes.
She was well aware that the men who worked with him liked and respected him. Now he was their hero, and she wasn’t a bit surprised.
No wonder Albert was full of hatred for him, but then her youngest son had been mean, jealous, and filled with envy since his childhood. William, his brother, could attest to that.
Marina had tried to love her youngest son, but he was so vengeful and unpleasant she had held him at a distance. She had been civil, pleasant even, when he was growing up, but never felt close to him.
Her happiest moment had been when he married Anne and moved out. Anne: a lovely young woman who appeared to dote on Albert. Marina had once mentioned their marriage to Georgiana Ward, wondered out loud why it worked. Georgiana had lifted a brow knowingly and laughed. She had said that the rumor was Albert was an artful lover, knew how to please a woman. Sex, she thought. It’s always about sex.
Marina sighed, asking herself how she was going to warn James about Albert without causing any embarrassment to him. At the back of her mind, she heard her sister Esther’s voice telling her, when she was ten, that she must always tell the truth. Nothing less would do.
That thought stayed with her when James came walking down the garden path, as handsome and well dressed as always on this Saturday afternoon.
“Here I am, Aunt Marina, right on time,” James said, smiling, walking over to the seawall and sitting down to face her. “I hope you’ve enjoyed painting today. The weather’s wonderful, isn’t it?”
“It is, James, and I am painting a seascape. Actually, it’s for you, because I know how much you’ve enjoyed living on the seafront, here in the house and on the ships, when you recently went to Le Havre with your uncle and William.”
“What a wonderful surprise! Thank you so much. How thoughtful of you.”
“I don’t want you to forget us,” Marina murmured, looking across at him, her expression loving. “You won’t, will you?”
“Of course not! How could I? You’ve been so welcoming, kind, and loving to me. But I’m not leaving for some time yet. Unless you’re suddenly pushing me out.” He frowned. “You’re not, are you?”
She began to laugh and shook her head. “No. You can stay as long as you wish. Forever, if you want. That would certainly make Clarence and me happy. He was so sad when you said you couldn’t accept his offer.”
“Yes, I know. I explained all my reasons, and he was very understanding, if very disappointed.”
“He told me, and my sister told me about some of your plans made long ago. Esther was very honest with me.”
“Yes, I know.” He cleared his throat. After a moment, he said, “You had something you needed to talk to me about, Great-Aunt. You mentioned that this morning.”
“Yes, I do.” Marina stood up and went and sat down next to James on the seawall. “It’s about Albert. He is my son, but I see him through very clear eyes. I always have, since he was a child. He is mean and vengeful, and not a very nice person at all. I’ve always known it, and I tried hard to encourage him to change when he was growing up. But he didn’t listen. I suppose character is bred in the bone. There’s nothing I can do with him and his life. However, I do know he is your enemy, and surely you know that.”
“Yes, I do, and thankfully, I don’t have to see too much of him, Aunt Marina, although he was under our feet last month after the storm.” There was a pause. James turned, sat staring directly at her, his blue eyes piercing. “What are you getting at?”
“I want to alert you that he has started a rumor about you…” She paused, wondering how to continue tactfully.
“Exactly what is he saying about me?” James asked quietly.
“That you are involved … in a relationship with … Mrs. Ward.” There, it was out. She held her breath.
James said in a cool, even tone, “That’s not true. I am friendly with her, as you know. I’ve been doing a bit of bookkeeping for her and have visited her at her home. But that’s all there is to it, Aunt Marina. He’s invented this.”
“So you’re not having an affair with her?”
Without any hesitation James said, “No, I am not. And how do I stop Albert from impugning a decent woman’s character, ruining her reputation?”
“I don’t think you can do much,” Marina replied, filled with relief that she had brought this matter to his attention. “I suppose you have to rise above it, ignore it.”
“You’re correct. However, perhaps you ought to alert Mrs. Ward. I think perhaps she should know, too, don’t you? She must protect her reputation.”
“I agree. Still, I don’t think she can do much to curtail Albert’s chatter either.”
James let out a long sigh, knowing his aunt was correct. After a moment he went on. “I suggested to Mrs. Ward a while ago that she come to see you and Uncle Clarence about her need for an accountant and a solicitor. It was regarding selling her shares in her late husband’s company. I haven’t seen her lately. Did she visit you? Were you able to help her?”
“Indeed we were. Or rather, Clarence was,” Marina answered. “And she is in good hands. In fact, it is my understanding they are making excellent progress.”
“At least she will have her financial affairs in order,” James murmured. He reached out and took hold of his aunt’s hand. “Thank you for alerting me, telling me about Albert’s venomous lies. I suppose I will just have to … rise above it, as you suggest.” A brow lifted quizzically. He gave her a wry smile. “I don’t think I have any alternative.”