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cattle as they sped off, returning within seconds with towels. “Where is your head, girl?”
      “It was an accident, Father.” Faith lifted her hands in a conciliatory gesture then clasped them together before facing Sir Wilhelm. “Mysincere apologies, Sir Wilhelm. I was not paying attention.”
      Sir Wilhelm scowled as he snatched a towel from one of the maids with a snap and dabbed at his sodden breeches. “Perhaps, Admiral, you should hire a governess to teach your daughters proper etiquette. Apparently, without their mother, their social graces have lapsed.”
      “It was an unintentional mishap, Sir Wilhelm,” Grace said, ever the voice of calm propriety.
      The admiral frowned. For a second, Faith thought he would defend his daughters, but then he grabbed his drink and plopped back into his chair.
      After tossing the wet towel back to the maid, Sir Wilhelm adjusted his wig and took his seat. Mr. Waite held his hand to his mouth, and Faith sensed a smile lingered behind it. When his eyes met hers, a spark of playfulness danced across them.
      “Sit down, Faith.” Her father pounded his boot on the floor and pointed to her chair. “You have insulted our guest enough. If you cannot behave, I will insist you leave this room at once.”
      Faith sank into her chair, not wanting to leave her sisters to endure Sir Wilhelm’s vile opinions without her protection. She squeezed Hope’s arm and felt her quiver as a soft sob escaped the poor girl. A heavy weight of guilt pressed down upon Faith. Why had she resurrected such a horrid memory?
      “Quit your sniveling, girl,” the admiral barked at Hope. “We have guests.”
      Faith glared at her father. He knew very well what had upset Hope. Yet repeatedly he chose to hide behind the delusion of propriety. He could face battles upon the sea, witness men’s legs being blasted into twigs, make snap decisions that changed the course of history, but he could not face what had happened to his own daughter.
      “You must forgive my daughters, Mr. Waite.” The admiral scratched his thick gray sideburns as the servants cleared the dishes from the table. “Since their mother died, they have not had proper female instruction.”
      “As you well know, Father”—Faith could not control the acrid bite in her tone—“I have taken that role upon myself. And I will continue to do so.” She turned toward her sisters. “Although I know I can never take Mother’s place.” She eased a lock of Hope’s golden hair from her face and saw her mother staring back at her. Faith’s heart warmed. “You look so much like her.”
      Hope smiled, her eyes shimmering.
      “Your mother must have been an incredible woman.” Mr. Waite’s deep voice smoothed the ripples of distress radiating over the table. His warm gaze landed on Faith and lingered there as if he were soaking in every detail of her. “Possessing both beauty and piety.” He smiled then looked down and began fidgeting with his spoon.
      Faith took a sip of cool water, hoping to douse the heat rising within her at his perusal.
      “She is in heaven now.” Grace kissed Hope on the cheek.
      “God shouldn’t have taken her in the first place.” Faith released Hope’s hand. “We have more need of her here than He does in heaven.”
      “What you need, my dear, is a good husband to tame you,” the admiral said, gulping down another swig of wine.
      “I will never marry.” Faith shook her head and gave her father a stern look.
      The admiral huffed. “Don’t be absurd.”
      Sir Wilhelm cleared his throat and exchanged a knowing glance with her father—a glance that sent dread crawling over Faith.
      “If a woman can provide for herself,” she said, “she needn’t subject herself to the tyranny of a man who restricts