Page 111 of A Devious Secret

Hawthorne gave him a knowing look. “Were you disciplined by the Royal Navy for the loss of your ship?”

Stephen shook his head. “I was not,” he said. “The day we were attacked it was foggy and visibility was poor. We didn’t even see the French frigate until they were right upon us.”

“If no one else finds you to be at fault, when will you forgive yourself for the things that you cannot change?” Hawthorne asked.

“Gemma said something similar,” Stephen said. “But I don’t think I can.”

A server approached the table and placed two glasses of brandy onto the table. “Will there be anything else?”

Hawthorne reached for a glass as he replied, “Not at this time.”

“Very good, my lord,” the server said before he walked off to a nearby table.

Hugh took a sip of his drink, then said, “I was once where you are now.”

Stephen huffed. “I doubt that.”

“I defended a murderer, and I was able to get him acquitted by a jury of his peers,” Hugh started. "After he was released, he went on to murder his wife and his daughter.”

Unsure of what to say, Stephen remained quiet.

Hugh leaned forward in his seat and continued. “I couldn’t come to terms with what I had done, so I turned to gambling. I ran away from my problems, instead of facing them head on. In doing so, I was spiraling out of control, and I pushed everyone away.”

“What changed?” Stephen asked.

A smile came to Hugh’s lips. “Marielle came into my life, and she believed in me.”

“Surely it can’t be that simple.”

“I’m afraid it was,” Hugh said. “She disrupted my life, but in a good way, causing me to rethink everything I knew to be true.”

Hawthorne interjected, “Never underestimate the power of love and the woman that wields it.”

Hugh raised his glass. “Well said, Brother.”

“I can’t just forget what transpired and move on,” Stephen said.

“Nor should you,” Hugh agreed. “You can’t change the past, but you can choose whether or not to learn from it.”

“What about all the people that died?” Stephen asked in a harsh tone. “They don’t have the luxury of learning from anything.”

“No, they don’t, but that doesn’t mean you throw away your life because of it,” Hugh counseled. “Live life to the fullest.”

Stephen tossed back his drink and slammed the empty glass onto the table. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

Hawthorne exchanged a concerned look with Hugh before saying, “Then you will lose Gemma.”

Stephen let out a sigh. “I can’t lose what I never had.”

“I know you care for her,” Hawthorne pressed.

“I do,” Stephen readily replied. “I have never cared for another as much as I do for Gemma.”

“Then you have to decide if the trouble of your past is more important than your future,” Hawthorne said.

“How is that possible?” Stephen asked, half-hoping.

“Bad things happen, you must accept that,” Hawthorne said. “No one is immune to heartache and sorrow, but you decide how to respond.”