to contemplate the future again.’ The truth tumbled out. Truth he had not realised until he vocalised it.
‘That’s good. Does it involve the sea?’
How did she know him so well? ‘I think so... Not the navy any longer. I was done with that before the fire.’ Another truth he had not seen coming. ‘Ships, I think... Cargo, perhaps. Or passengers. Maybe both. It’s hazy. Not properly formed. Starting small...’ Some of the tangled thoughts began to unravel and he felt strangely lighter.
‘From little acorns...’ She smiled wistfully. ‘That’s wonderful, Max.’
‘It’s terrifying. I am not sure I am ready to go back out into the world.’
‘You are more ready than you were when I first met you almost two months ago.’
‘True...’
‘And I dare say Eleanor would corroborate that by confirming you are much more ready than you were a year ago.’
That was also true. A year ago he had been in a very dark place. He wasn’t in that infinite pit any longer. More a hole a little deeper than one of Effie’s trenches—but he could see some light now. Quite a bit of it. One of the brightest shining beacons was sat right in front of him. How could he sail the seas and leave her behind? Yet another tangled thought to swirl among the mess. ‘It’s probably all too soon.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I still can’t see the wood for the trees. Still can’t make much sense of it all.’
‘Scientifically speaking, the best way to work through a difficult problem is to break it into chunks and go through it systematically. Start at the beginning and work from there.’ She settled back, her cheek propped against her hand. ‘Perhaps it is time to re-evaluate some of those things and look at them with fresh eyes? The fire happened, what, a year and a half ago? Do you have misgivings about what you did?’
‘No. I wish it hadn’t happened, but it did and I had to do what needed to be done to save the ship and the crew. We were all in the thick of it.’
‘And after that?’
‘Six months of blurriness. Pain, laudanum and stupor.’
‘Then do you recall where you were a year ago?’
‘Eleanor’s house. Feeling very alone and very sorry for myself.’
‘Why?’
He slanted her a disbelieving look. ‘All of the above.’
‘That’s not true, is it? Your sister told me once the worst was past and the threat of death was gone, you were full of fight and optimistic about your recovery. What changed?’
‘I saw myself.’ A lie. That had come after and he suspected Effie had worked that out already. ‘Miranda...’
‘Do you want to tell me about it?’
No. But how could he ever move forward if he didn’t? ‘Nelson was an ugly bugger. A great man, but nowhere near as pretty as his portraits would have you believe. He’d lost most of his teeth to scurvy, so his face had caved in. He was blinded when a shell exploded and, aside from ruining the look of that eye, it also ripped his entire eyebrow off and took a chunk out of his forehead. His arm was missing and he had more nicks and scars on his face than a face should carry, but both his wife and Emma Hamilton still loved him to distraction. He wore those scars like medals—proud badges of honour—and nothing kept him down. That inspired me. I assumed my face would heal, my stunning fiancée would still marry me even with a few battle scars and I’d be back sailing the high seas in no time. But Miranda recoiled in horror the first time she saw me.’ He’d tried to hold her hand. Had needed to know everything was going to be all right. ‘I assumed it was because it was all such a mess...the wounds were still open, some were festering, it must have been disgusting.’
‘You hadn’t seen it, then?’
‘No... Unbeknown to me, Eleanor had forbidden anyone from giving me a mirror in case I was so horrified by what I saw, I wouldn’t be able to cope.’ He felt his throat constrict at