Page 49 of It Takes Two to Tumble
“No, you can’t. You mustn’t. I know that.” Phillip reached across the table and took his son’s hand. “I should have told you sooner. But why did you get the idea that I was sending you off to school? Why now?”
“Mrs. Howard was trying to convince me school would be fun.”
Phillip groaned. “She was likely trying to do you a kindness. Her own children enjoy school terribly, she was telling me.”
“But when you marry her, you’ll want to send us all to school.”
“Why the devil would I want to marry her?” Phillip asked.
“Everyone says you will.”
“Who is everyone?”
“Cook. Mrs. Winston. Ned.” He ticked the names off on his fingers.
“Well, I’m not marrying her or anyone else. And even if I were, you’re not going to school. I’m hiring a tutor. And...” He took a breath, knowing that he shouldn’t make hasty decisions while emotional, but if he was honest, this was a decision he had all but made days ago. “I’m not returning to my ship.”
“What?” Ben and Jamie spoke as one.
“You heard me.”
The old man was watching this entire exchange with evident interest and Phillip heartily wished he’d go away and let them have some privacy, even if this was his house. With the sense of things slotting into place, Phillip realized that his notion of familial privacy most definitely included Ben.
“But...” Jamie shook his head in confusion. “You’re a sea captain. That’s what you are.”
Phillip had thought so too. “Over the past few weeks I’ve learned to be a good many things.” He steadfastly did not look at Ben, but he knew Ben would understand that those words were partly meant for him. “Chief among those is being your father.” He hoped Ben would hear the unspoken words, that Phillip had also learned to be something else, something to Ben. A lover, a friend. He didn’t think there was a word, and he dearly wished for one, even if it was only whispered between them.
“Oh,” Jamie said.
“I see.” That was Ben, and if Phillip knew the man—and heaven help him, but Phillip thought he did—he really did see. He could see what was in Phillip’s heart. Later on, Phillip would hope for a chance to tell him in words, in deeds, in any way he could.
“This is all very interesting,” Alton Sedgwick said, stroking his beard. “Very interesting indeed.”
“No it isn’t, Father,” Ben said firmly. “Commonplace domestic drama, absolutely not something I’m going to find in one of your poems next year.”
“Do you read my poetry?” the older man asked.
“Of course I do, if only to see what slander you’ve committed. And I will not find anything titled ‘The Reluctant Sailor’ or something to that effect.”
Alton Sedgwick shook his head disapprovingly. “That’s a very poor title, Benedict.”
“That’s not the point. How did you come by Jamie in the first place?”
“I came here,” Jamie said.
“Why?” Ben asked the question Phillip had been wondering.
“I didn’t mean to. But then I ran into that man, and he asked where I was going, and I told him I didn’t know. He told me to come here. Then I remembered you said your father always had sweets and never made you do lessons.” Through the open windows, they heard the dog barking plaintively. “And that he was fond of animals,” he added reprovingly.
“All true,” Ben said faintly, looking like he had been hit in the head.
Before Phillip could ask who the man was who had directed Jamie to Fellside Grange, he found himself laughing. He couldn’t help it. The situation was absurd. His son was safe. Phillip’s own future was uncertain, Ben’s even more so, but Phillip felt idiotically confident that they could find a way to at least be uncertain in reasonable proximity to one another.
The door to the outside swung open, letting in a soft warm breeze and a woman with a basket of greengages on one arm and Jamie’s dog in the other.
“This poor rascal was half-frantic out there,” she said, setting the dog on the ground. Then, noticing Ben and Phillip, her eyes opened wide. It took a moment for Phillip to place her, because he had only seen her wearing a large white cap and apron. Now, her salt-and-pepper hair was plaited over one shoulder and her clothing was decidedly disordered.
“Mrs. Winston?” Ben said, plainly astonished.
