frame was soft; her cottony blond hair, her pale eyes, her unsmiling lips, and her tepid voice. No spark in her eyes. No snappy color in her cheeks. No animation in her words. But of course there wouldn’t be; she’d been a widow only a few days, and from what John had told him, she’d been fond enough of her husband.
“May I offer you tea?” she said limply.
“No. Thank you.” He glanced over her shoulder hopefully. “Little ones about?”
“The children are napping,” she said. “We walked to the cemetery this morning to visit my husband’s grave. They were tired when we returned home.”
The cemetery where John Park had been laid to rest was miles across town. Poor girl couldn’t even afford a hackney coach to visit her dead husband.
“Glad to send a carriage the next time you wish to go,” he said, a sinking sensation in his gut as he watched her dull eyes and even duller movements as she went into the sitting space of the tiny flat.
“You mustn’t go to such trouble for us, Captain. You have already been tremendously generous.”
Sick, sharp guilt replaced the sinking sensation.
“No trouble,” he said. “My honor.”
She sat on a hard wooden chair.
“Will you have a seat, Captain?” she said, gesturing, then fell silent. He’d had a number of occasions to speak with her over the five years during which her husband had served as his first officer, and she’d never been more animated than she was at this moment. By now Elle would be peppering him with queries.
Shoving Gabrielle Flood from his thoughts once again, he set his hat on the table between them.
“Mrs. Park, I’ve news to share with you, the sort I don’t like to have to share, truth be told.”
Her features remained bland. “News, Captain?”
“Your husband’s gaming debts were such that he wagered his pension against them.”
Alarm flickered in her eyes.
“Is that—is that legal?” she said.
He shook his head. “But there are moneylenders who’ll take advantage of a man. It’s one of them who holds the note on your husband’s pension.”
Her cheeks went white as a topsail.
“The pension was all we had,” she said weakly. “I have no family, Captain. No work. Nothing. Without it . . . Oh, no. This cannot be.”
“I know.” He drew a deep breath. “Which is why I would like to settle your husband’s debts myself. If you’ll allow it.”
The colorless eyes widened. “But the amount—It is not a small sum. That pension was intended to support me and my children until they are grown.”
“I would consider it my honor.” The devil take his useless honor. His hands were icier than the North Sea.
“You are too generous, Captain. But I cannot accept.”
“I wish to do this. I hope you will allow it.”
“I cannot. Why, for years already you have given my family so much. John adored sailing with you.” Now her eyes watered like leaky planking, one tear dripping out after another. “When he would come home on furlough, he was always so full of tales of the Victory and your generosity with all of your officers and crewmen. He said you were the finest commander in the fleet, that everyone wanted to be assigned to your ship. He took such pride in working for you. Once he told me that never in his life before had he felt so useful and so appreciated as he felt serving as your lieutenant.” Her damp eyes were downright starry.
“He was a fine sailor,” he forced through his lips. “An exceptional first officer.” A first officer he could not have done without. Good God, he had to end this interview. “His family don’t deserve to suffer from a little gambling debt. Allow me to settle it, ma’am.”
“Gambling is a sinful pursuit, Captain. As such, my husband must answer for it in the hereafter.”
Good God. This, he had not expected. But now he recalled John mentioning his wife had been the daughter of some starchy vicar up in Newcastle. No wonder his lieutenant had always been eager to return to sea.
“I cannot compound that sin by accepting money from you, who are blameless,” she continued fervently, driving the guilt like a dagger into his belly. “The sacred vows of marriage I spoke to my husband must make that burden mine to bear alone.”
As well as her innocent children’s, he wanted to point out. They seemed to be getting the short end of the stick with this theology.
“Then I’ll be glad to give the money to you, and you