“The Luftwaffe sent reconnaissance aircraft over the base almost daily before the battle.” He flipped one hand to the ceiling. “They fly high and fast. Antiaircraft fire cannae reach them, and our fighters cannae scramble fast enough to catch them at that altitude.”
“Aye ...” A question colored Father’s tone.
“They knew when our fleet departed. They were waiting.”
“How is that your fault?” Father’s sandy eyebrows drew together.
Lachlan clamped his lips together and shook his head. “My duty is to protect the fleet. I failed.”
Father’s square jaw shifted to the side. “Is that what your commanding officer said?”
Not in so many words, and Lachlan lifted one shoulder. “He said our ability to protect the fleet is limited.”
“Och aye.”
“He also warned me against failures in the future.” Lt.-Cdr. Bennett Blake seemed eager to add another mark to Lachlan’s record.
Father lifted his teacup to Lachlan. “Congratulations.”
Lachlan pulled back his chin. “Con ... pardon?”
“Congratulations to you for sinking theBismarck.”
Was his father daft? “I wasnae there.” The British fleet had hunted down the German battleship and sent her to the bottom of the sea.
With his teacup high, Father leveled his gaze. “If you’re responsible for the loss of theHood, then you’re responsible for the sinking of theBismarck.”
Lachlan hated it when his father was logical. “Aye. Only fair.”
“Excuse me, please. I’ll be back shortly.” Father set down his teacup and saucer, and he left the room.
A fourth teacup sat on the tray, and Lachlan frowned at it. “Is Neil here?”
“No. He rang not long ago.” Mother sighed. “We hoped he’d come. His birthday’s tomorrow.”
Neil would find his own debauched way to celebrate, and Lachlan released a scoffing grunt.
Mother mashed her lips together. “I hate to mention this when you’re grieving, but I do wish you two would reconcile.”
His poor sweet mother, and he gentled his voice. “I’m sure it’s difficult being torn between two sons you love.”
Mother’s cheeks agitated and reddened, and she fussed with the tea things.
Lachlan took a sip and set down his cup. “I would be glad to forgive him if he showed any remorse at all. But he—he’s proud of betraying me.”
Mother stood, smoothed her tweed skirt, and went to her little writing desk. Standing with her back to Lachlan, she straightened a stack of letters. “The Lord forgave your sins, love. And he longs to forgive Neil’s if he should ask, as I pray every day.”
Lachlan grimaced. Was it wrong to hope Neil never asked?
Pencils clicked as Mother rearranged them in the pencil holder. “I’ve always admired your sense of duty. You’re a man of integrity, like your father.”
“You both taught me well.” If only Neil had learned the same lessons.
“But duty ...” Mother’s voice cracked, and she shook her head. “Duty must be paired with mercy. ‘Blessed are the merciful,’ the Lord taught us, ‘for they shall obtain mercy.’”
Lachlan could still hear his own words to the spy on the beach, hear them with ripping pain.“May the Lord have mercy on your soul. I have none.”
All the air rushed from his lungs, bowing his shoulders low.
