‘Thank you, but there’ll be a terrible scandal. I can’t stay. I need to go somewhere new and start again, maybe set up my own establishment.’
‘Where?’
Violet looked back out of the window at the sea. Where would she go? Perhaps she should take a leaf out of Arthur Amberton’s book and board a ship for some foreign clime, but even as she thought it, the answer became obvious. There was only one place she really wanted to go, the only other place where she might be welcome.
‘York. I’ll go and find my family.’
* * *
‘Ow!’ Lance growled as someone wrenched back the drawing-room curtains and a shaft of piercing yellow sunlight fell across his chair, startling him back to consciousness.
‘Good morning to you, too, Little Brother.’ Arthur loomed over him, wearing a distinctly unsympathetic expression. ‘Ready to talk yet?’
‘Shut the curtains!’ Lance glared ferociously. The pain in his head made every movement an effort, but the bright light was even worse. He felt as if there were a myriad tiny swords stabbing into his skull.
‘Not until you tell me what the hell you think you’re playing at.’
‘I’m trying to sleep and I don’t want to talk.’
‘That’s what you said last night—or this morning, I suppose. You told me to mind my own business, or words to that effect anyway.’
‘The statement stands.’
Arthur folded his arms. ‘Do I have to pummel the truth out of you like when we were boys?’
‘I always beat you at fighting.’
‘Most of the time, yes, but right now I’d say I have the advantage. What on earth have you done to yourself? You look green.’
‘I feel it.’ The pain in his head felt like ten ordinary hangovers put together. He hadn’t even drunk that much. ‘I must be getting old.’
‘Most people get older and wiser. Apparently you’re the exception.’
Lance peered through his fingers at his brother and scowled. ‘Is this why you came back to Yorkshire, to insult me?’
‘No. I came back to find out if you were still alive, although from the look of things I should have stayed away.’
‘Don’t say that.’ He felt a pang of regret for his bad temper. ‘You don’t know how wonderful it is to see you again.’
‘Which is why you’ve drunk yourself into a stupor, I suppose?’
‘That’s not the reason.’
‘Then tell me what is. I presume her name starts with a V.’
‘I’m trying to do the right thing, if you must know. It’s just not easy.’
Arthur unfolded his arms and took a seat opposite. ‘So explain to me how telling your wife to get a divorce so that I can marry her and have all her money is the right thing? For one thing, it sounds rather sordid. For another, I doubt it would be allowed. In the eyes of the law, she’s my sister now.’
‘We should still try.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I have to give it all up, Arthur. I don’t deserve any of it, Violet especially. I need to put things right, the way they ought to have been, the way Father wanted them.’
‘That’s another thing.’ Arthur sounded exasperated. ‘Since when did you care so much about what Father wanted?’
‘I do now.’
‘Why?’
‘I just do!’ Lance tried to jump to his feet and then dropped back again as pain seared through his leg and shot up his spine.
‘I’m not leaving until you tell me, Little Brother.’
He leaned forward, hanging his head. ‘Because Father was right about me. He said I was a reprobate and he was right. I’ve spent my life being selfish and reckless and thoughtless. I’ve hurt people. If Violet stays with me, I’ll probably hurt her, too. I can’t take that risk.’
‘You’re too hard on yourself, Lance.’
‘No, I haven’t been hard enough. That’s why I have to do this now. I married Violet because she was part of Father’s plan for this place, but she was supposed to marry you. Everything I have now was supposed to be yours. Now that you’re back it should be yours again. You can run the estate and be a better husband than I can. If Father was right about me, then he was right about that, too.’
‘He wasn’t right about you. I know you better than anyone, Lance. I know why you behaved the way you did.’
‘Don’t make excuses for me. I was a bad son from the start.’
‘Not from the start. Only since Mother died. You were grieving.’
‘It still doesn’t excuse anything. I missed her so much, but her death wasn’t Father’s fault. I knew that deep down, but I still blamed him. It was unfair of me.’
‘Maybe he deserved to be blamed. Not for that, but for the way he treated us afterwards. He shut himself away in his room and barely spoke to us, not for days or weeks, but for years. He was grieving, too, in his own way, but he never helped us come to terms with her loss. If you were a bad son, then he was a bad father as well.’
‘I still should have reached out to him.’
‘You did. Every time you argued with him, you were reaching out. So was he every time he argued back. Only the pair of you were too stubborn to admit what you were doing. I should have banged your heads together a long time ago.’
‘I thought you said you didn’t come here to insult me?’
‘I’d rather insult you than watch you wallow in self-pity.’
‘Then what about what I did to you? I failed you, too, Arthur. I should have come back when you asked me to.’
‘How could you? You were halfway across the world and a captain in the army. I wanted you to come home, I admit that, but it wasn’t your job to save me. I shouldn’t have asked. I should have stood up for myself instead of running away, but I knew Father would never budge.’
‘I still should have tried to do something. Then you wouldn’t have run away and he wouldn’t have collapsed.’
‘Or maybe he would have anyway. But what happened to him is on my conscience, not yours. It was because of the shock that I gave him. I won’t let you take the blame for it.’
‘I never even tried to be a good son.’
‘Well, I did and look where it got me.’
‘Did he ever speak of me after I went to Canada?’ Lance looked up hopefully.
‘Just once.’ Arthur heaved a sigh. ‘After you left, he shut himself away even more. So did I, mainly to avoid his ranting, but I found him one evening, in that very chair as it happens. He was holding two miniature portraits, the ones Mother commissioned of us when we were boys. He wasn’t angry, he was just sorry—for all of it—and we talked. He’d been drinking, of course, but we really talked, about Mother, and you and me, and the future. It was incredible. For those few hours I thought that everything was going to be all right.’
‘Then what happened?’
‘The next morning he’d forgotten about it. Either that or he pretended to. When I mentioned it at breakfast he looked at me as if I’d gone mad. So I went sailing.’
‘I’m sorry, Arthur.’
‘So am I. You know, despite everything, I think he really did love us and Mother as much as he was able.’
‘You think that he loved us?’ Lance felt a tightness in his throat.
‘Yes. He could just never show it. He never disinherited you, did he? But he could never back down either. And once he got an idea in his head...’
‘Are you making a point?’
‘I’m trying to. And I’m not going to marry the woman you love.’
‘Why not?’ Lance bristled indignantly. ‘She’s worth a thousand of Lydia Webster.’
‘I know that.’ Arthur’s voice sounded pained. ‘I knew that before I ran away.’
‘You did? How?’
‘It doesn’t matter. Suffice to say I found the tru
th out the hard way, but it’s all right. I barely think of her now.’
‘I’m still sorry I told you the way I did. I should have been subtler.’
‘That was never your style, Little Brother.’
‘At least it means you’re free to marry Violet.’
‘Oh, stop being so pig-headed.’ Arthur stretched out a foot to kick his good leg. ‘She’s your wife!’
‘Barely.’
‘Meaning what?’
‘Meaning we only went to bed once.’ Lance cleared his throat self-consciously. ‘Last night, in fact.’
Arthur’s eyebrows arched upwards. ‘She said you’ve been married for two months.’
‘We have.’
‘But you only just took her to bed?’
‘Yes.’
‘Don’t you find her attractive?’
‘Of course I do! But she’s not like all the others. She’s different. And I made her a promise. I wasn’t going to touch her for seven years, only...things changed. I changed. Last night, I told her everything about my past. I told her the worst things about myself and she didn’t hate me. She said she didn’t want to wait seven years and neither did I. For the first time since I was shot, I thought that maybe I could move on from the past and be happy again.’
‘And were you? Happy, that is, before I arrived?’
‘Yes, but that doesn’t mean I’m not happy to see you, too.’
‘I know that, but let me get this clear. You were happy. She was happy. You slept together. But now you want her to get a divorce and marry me?’
‘It’s not about what I want.’
‘Just stop and think for a moment, Lance. Father wasn’t right about you and fulfilling his wishes now won’t fix the past. It’ll only ruin the future and make all three of us unhappy.’
‘She deserves somebody better.’
‘She deserves somebody who loves her—and don’t pretend that you don’t. I said so before and you didn’t deny it.’
Lance drew in a long breath and then released it through his teeth. ‘What if I do love her? I just as good as told her I didn’t. I made her think it was all about the money.’
‘Which is why you need to go upstairs and tell her how you really feel. Right now, before she goes back to Whitby and starts divorce proceedings. Don’t make the same mistake Father did, keeping your feelings to yourself. You won’t help anyone by turning into him. Tell her how you feel and get on with your life. Do it for me, if you won’t for yourself.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean that I enjoyed my life at sea. It’s what I want, or something like it anyway. I’ve no intention of staying here, birthright or not, and I’m certainly not going to be bullied into marrying anyone. I might not have stood up to Father, but I can stand up to you.’
Lance climbed to his feet, facing his brother head-on. Arthur looked different, he realised—bigger, stronger and more resolute. For the first time in their lives, he made him feel like the younger brother.
‘I still won’t take your inheritance. The house is yours.’
‘Then look after it for me.’
‘Arthur...’
‘No. You didn’t do the last thing I asked of you. If you truly want to make amends, then you can do this instead. Look after the house and estate for me. Call yourself a steward if you like, but for pity’s sake, go and apologise to your wife.’
The sound of a gasp, followed by a distinctly unladylike exclamation of astonishment, made them both turn around. Mrs Gargrave was standing in the drawing-room doorway, looking between them with an expression of abject horror.
‘I’m not a ghost!’ Arthur raised his hands quickly.
‘You’re alive?’
‘Indeed I am, Mrs Gargrave. It’s good to see you again.’
‘Yes...’ The housekeeper raised a hand to her head as if she were struggling to remember something important. ‘I...came to tell you...about Mrs Amberton...’
‘What about her?’ Lance’s heart gave a painful lurch.
‘One of the grooms just came back from Whitby... She asked to be taken there first thing.’
‘She’s gone?’
‘Yes.’ Mrs Gargrave’s eyes settled on Arthur again before her whole body started to teeter unsteadily and then tumble to one side. Both brothers sprang forward, catching her a moment before she hit the floor.
‘I seem to be having a bad effect on women today.’ Arthur made a face. ‘They either run away or faint.’
‘Can you deal with this?’ Lance gave him a questioning look.
‘Of course.’ Arthur grabbed hold of his shoulder and then pushed him away. ‘Go and find your wife. Tell her you’re sorry and that you love her. Tell her to come home. Just don’t come back without her.’
Chapter Nineteen
‘What do you mean, she’s already gone?’
Lance felt as though Ianthe Felstone had just punched him hard in the stomach. Not that he would have been entirely surprised if she had. She looked very much as if she wanted to. She’d looked as if she hadn’t wanted to admit him to her house either, only Robert had intervened, letting him in when he’d turned up unannounced, hungover and distinctly the worse for wear on their doorstep. After Mrs Gargrave had fainted, he’d pulled on the first clothes he could find and charged straight out of the house, riding full tilt to Whitby without even waiting for Martin.
‘I mean that she’s already gone.’ Ianthe jutted her chin out angrily. ‘She left an hour ago.’
‘Where did she go?’
‘What does it matter if you want a divorce?’
‘I want to talk to her.’
‘Well, she doesn’t want to talk to you, not any more. She doesn’t want to be anywhere near you.’
‘Mrs Felstone.’ Lance ran a hand through his hair, wishing he’d made slightly more effort to look respectable. ‘It was a mistake to mention a divorce. In my defence, I was in shock at my brother’s return, but I was still a fool and I know it. I also know that I’m one of the most worthless rogues Whitby’s ever produced, but I love Violet. I don’t want a divorce. If you tell me where she is, I promise I’ll never hurt her again.’
‘Ianthe.’ Robert put a hand on his wife’s shoulder and her expression wavered.
‘All right, but this is your absolute last chance. If you do anything to upset her again—’
‘Then you can push me off Whitby pier yourself. I’ll even jump if you tell me to. Now, please, tell me where she is.’
‘She’s gone to York.’
‘York? On her own?’
‘Yes, Mr Rowlinson found out where her aunt lives and, no, my Aunt Sophoria went with her.’
‘Do you have the address?’
Ianthe sighed and walked across to a bureau, coming back with a slip of paper. ‘Here.’
‘What train did she catch?’
‘The ten o’clock.’ Robert spoke this time. ‘There’s another soon if you hurry.’
‘I’ll run if I have to.’ He was already limping towards the door. ‘Thank you.’
* * *
The journey inland felt interminable and not just because every burst of the whistle made his head feel as though there were a swarm of bees living inside it. Lance stared out of the window, willing the miles away as the train steamed through the moors, stopping at what seemed to be every station in existence, before entering the flatter expanse of the Vale of York and finally rolling into the city itself. He jumped down from the carriage before the locomotive had even come to a halt, earning himself a remonstrative whistle from the guard, as well as a warning twinge in his leg. He ignored both. All he wanted was to find Violet and make things right again.
If he could make things right again. His stomach clenched at the if. He didn’t want to think about that.
‘Captain Amberton
?’
A small figure blocked his way as he reached the end of the platform, bringing him to a surprised halt as he looked down into the bright, sparkling eyes of a white-haired woman swathed almost entirely in pink lace, wearing what appeared to be an Elizabethan-style ruff around her neck.
‘Ma’am?’ He tipped his hat enquiringly.
‘Oh, it is you.’ The vision in pink beamed. ‘I only saw you once before in person, but some faces are memorable. I’m Sophoria Gibbs.’
‘Ianthe’s aunt?’ He lifted an eyebrow dubiously. It was hard to imagine a greater contrast to the niece.
‘The very same and delighted to meet you, although I suppose you’re far more interested in seeing your wife. Come along, then.’
She didn’t wait for him to offer his arm, tucking her hand into his elbow and leading him determinedly towards the station exit.
‘I don’t understand.’ Lance peered down at her. ‘Were you waiting for me?’
‘Oh, yes, dear. I found out when the next train was due and came back to find you. I told Violet I was going to the tearoom, but it was only a tiny white lie since I did have a cup of tea while I waited. Of course, she has no idea that you’re coming, but then, she thinks you don’t want her.’ She reached over and patted his arm as if they were old friends. ‘But I knew otherwise.’
‘You did?’
‘Of course!’ The old woman nodded vigorously. ‘I’m starting to think I’m far more romantic than any of you young people.’
‘But where is she?’
‘Up there.’ She stopped just outside the station, gesturing up at the tall, grey line of the city walls. ‘She didn’t feel quite ready to visit her aunt yet so we had some lunch, or at least I did, and then took a walk. I think she’s feeling a little lost, dear. Why don’t you go up there and find her?’
‘Thank you.’ He scooped her hand up and kissed the back of it. ‘Sophoria. That’s a beautiful name. May I call you it?’
‘I absolutely insist upon it, dear.’
‘Then if I can persuade my wife to come back with me, I promise to name our first daughter after you.’
‘Well, in that case you must succeed. Now, there’s a staircase over there. Do you think you can manage it?’
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