By the time she’d dressed and clambered down from her bunk, breakfast had already started. To her surprise, Rhys was seated at the table. How odd. He never came down for breakfast and, by the tight, whiteness of his face, he wasn’t enjoying the experience. She sighed, slipping onto the bench beside him.
‘What are you doing? Checking up on me?’
‘Good morning to you, too, Bridie Stewart.’
She saw his fingers clench around the raised table edge, the uneaten ship’s biscuit on his plate. ‘It’s all right. You don’t have to be here.’
‘I’ll admit. I’m hoping not to have to join you a second time.’
‘Then, why? Don’t you trust me?’
‘I told you, some burdens are too heavy to carry alone.’
Right. Bridie took a deep breath and blew out through her puffed cheeks. She was going to have to ask, now
