Page 23 of A Devious Secret

“I did not.”

She nodded. “My son wanted to see what the world had to offer. He was never content with what he had,” she shared. “We discovered what he had done by way of a letter.”

“That must have been difficult.”

“At first, yes, but we came to respect his decision,” Mrs. Heathcote said. “We had hoped he would have followed in his father’s steps and become a barrister.”

“For what it is worth, Benjamin was an accomplished officer, and he saved many people’s lives through his quick thinking and determination.”

Mrs. Heathcote pressed her lips together. “And look at what it has done for him.”

Stephen leaned forward and placed his teacup onto the table. “I wanted to offer my condolences for your loss, and to assure you that your son’s sacrifice was not in vain. He was fighting for something much bigger than him.”

A gasp escaped Mrs. Heathcote’s lips. “Benjamin is dead?”

Stephen gave her an odd look. “Did the War Office not inform you of his death?”

“Yes, but I thought it was a mistake.”

With a steady voice, Stephen said, “I regret to inform you that Benjamin died when theHMS Intrepidwent down.”

“You are mistaken,” Mrs. Heathcote asserted. “Benjamin retired from the Royal Navy when he returned nearly seven months ago.”

It was his turn to act surprised. “I beg your pardon?”

It was Mrs. Heathcote’s turn to give him an odd look. “Did you not know he retired from the Royal Navy?”

“No, but more importantly, I didn’t know he was alive,” he said. “He was on the list of casualties that died that day.”

“I’m afraid your list was wrong.”

Stephen lowered his gaze as he tried to take in what he had just been told. How was Benjamin alive? All the survivors of theHMS Intrepidwere taken captive by the French and sent off to that wretched prison.

Bringing his gaze back up, Stephen asked, “May I speak to Benjamin?”

“Unfortunately, I do not know where my son is,” Mrs. Heathcote replied. “He walked out of the door one day and has yet to return.”

“How long has that been?”

“About six weeks.”

Stephen had been back in London for about six weeks. Surely that was just a coincidence.

Mrs. Heathcote lowered her teacup to her lap. “I had been hoping that you would know where my son is.”

“I’m afraid not.”

“That is a shame,” Mrs. Heathcote said. “He left behind his responsibilities, and I would like to ensure he is all right.”

“Do you have any idea of where he might be?” Stephen questioned, attempting to keep the eagerness out of his voice.

Miss Heathcote spoke up. “Benjamin was known to frequent the Scarlet Lady gambling hell.”

Shifting in her seat, Mrs. Heathcote asked, “How would you know such a thing?”

“On occasion, he would come home drunk and start shouting about how the Scarlet Lady had stolen his money,” Miss Heathcote shared.

“I do not recall this,” Mrs. Heathcote said.