With a watery frown, Griffith shook his head, great tears rolling down his cheeks. “There’s no way to mend it.”
But Silas grinned at his boy. “You never know until you tell me what it is.”
Griffith sniffled, and Silas wiped his nose again before the boy took matters into his own hands again. “She’ll be so angry with me.”
Silas’s brows rose. “Helen?”
Shoulders hunched, Griffith shook his head. “Miss Delmonte.”
With a huff, Silas chucked his son under the chin. “She is very forgiving.”
But Griffith did not relent.
“Can you not tell me?” Silas added. “I give you my word, I will do everything I can to help you make it right.”
Griffith wiped at his eye and let out a shaky sigh. “Your word?”
Silas gave him a regal nod and held out his hand. “My word to you as a gentleman. I will do everything in my power to aid you in your endeavors. Together, we shall win Miss Delmonte’s forgiveness.”
But the child gave no hint of a smile at the silliness. Griffith stared at the hand for a moment before sliding off his father’s lap and marching back to the cabinet. Reaching into the dark recesses, he pulled out a book and turned back to his father. Silas gripped the edge of his desk, his breath freezing in his lungs as he stared at the all too familiar cover of Miss Delmonte’s sketchbook with dirt staining the leather.
“I wanted to see it, and Miss Delmonte was out on a walk—” Griffith’s words broke off into a stuttering breath.
“You know you are not to go into her quarters without her permission,” said Silas, though there was no point in saying so now.
Griffith lifted the sodden book and placed it on his father’s lap. “I just wanted to look at it for a few minutes, so I borrowed it.”
“You stole it,” corrected Silas. Griffith’s head hung low, his expression drooping as his lips began to quiver again.
“But I couldn’t see very well, and I’m not allowed to light candles, so I took it downstairs. But I was afraid someone might see me, so I took it into the garden and tripped—” Another jerking breath halted his explanation, but there was little more to say as it was clear what had happened.
Mud streaked the cover. The pages already showed signs of warping, the edges rippling as the water soaked through the paper. Silas’s stomach hardened, sinking like an anchor as he lifted the front cover to find so many of the drawings ruined.
“I tried to save it,” whispered Griffith, and Silas nodded, though the child’s efforts to brush off the water and muck only smeared the lines further.
But Silas couldn’t think what to say. There was nothing to say. Griffith had judged the situation entirely correctly. Though Silas doubted Miss Delmonte would never forgive the child, the entire family knew how precious her father’s sketchbook was to her, and its loss would be devastating. His chest burned, and Silas forced himself to breathe, though his throat clenched.
“Why would you do that, Griffith? You knew how important this was to her—” But Silas’s words caught as Griffith burst into another round of tears. Setting aside the sketchbook, Silas took his son back into his arms, though he wanted to shout at him. Pressure grew within him, a mixture of pain and anger that Silas didn’t know what to do with. There would be plenty of tears shed today, and Griffith’s were only the beginning.
“Can you mend it?” The question came out in broken, heaving breaths, and Griffith clung to his father with such desperation that Silas wished he had a better answer to give. He waited until the boy was calm once more and stood him before his father to see him eye-to-eye.
“Griffith, there are some things that cannot be mended,” said Silas. “That is why Miss Delmonte told you not to touch it on your own.”
“I am sorry,” whispered Griffith, his head hanging low.
“I know, but that isn’t the end of it,” said Silas. “First of all, we need to speak to Miss Delmonte. You need to tell her what you did.”
Griffith’s lips trembled, his watery eyes meeting Silas as he shook his head, but Silas frowned at that.
“You are going to tell her because that is what we do when we’ve done something wrong.” Silas held his gaze, his tone hard and unyielding. “You aren’t going to hide from the consequences, Griffith. I will be there with you if you wish, but you will tell her the truth, apologize, and accept your punishment. No more hiding, son.”
Lips pinched, Griffith’s shoulders fell, but he nodded. “But you will go with me?”
“Of course. I gave you my word I would help you to make things right, and confession and apology are always the first step. And then we will see if there is something more to do for our Miss Delmonte.”
Leaping forward, Griffith threw himself back into his father’s arms. “Thank you, Papa.”
Silas allowed himself a moment to enjoy the embrace, holding his son tight, but then he set Griffith down and faced him once more. “This doesn’t mean I am not angry with you. I am furious, Griffith. You did something you knew you weren’t allowed to do, and you’ve hurt someone dearly and ruined something very important to her. There will be consequences.”
