“I hope you know that your actions have now risked her future. You will not, in no uncertain terms, ever relay that you ruined her. It will be difficult enough with your reputation…people will assume.”
Fuck. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “We will have to hopeherreputation is stronger than yours, and that when she does marry, her husband is none the wiser. It is one thing to destroy your own future, but another’s? Have you ruined any other unmarried ladies I should know about?”
“No, I haven’t. She was my fiancé. Everyone knows the lines blur once you are betrothed. And ifyouhadn’t ended the betrothal, Father, then this wouldn’t even be an issue. Her future wouldn’t be at risk.” He sat back with a self-satisfiedI have wonsmile on his face.
Ash laughed, because his son’s ignorance and arrogance were so profound it was comical. Colborn’s smile faltered.
“You think her future would not be at risk if she married you?” He leaned forward. “Your behavior in the library was abominable. Your treatment of a woman…I have never been more furious at and ashamed of both you and myself for what kind of man you are turning into. And that was the entire point of her visit here, Colborn. To save herself fromyou. Which she laid out to you in detail in the library. But for some reason, no matter what anyone says, all you hear isme, me, me.”
Ash’s lungs worked, and he fisted his hands, fighting for calm. Frustration with Colborn’s vanity and pomposity melded with Ash’s helplessness at being able to fix what had become of his son. What he had turned his son into.
“Yes, well, that is how it works, isn’t it? You always give me everything I want, so what am I supposed to think? No matter what I do, you throw coin at it or flaunt your title or pull a favor and make it go away, as if it never happened, as if I never—” He abruptly stopped talking and looked away.
And there it was. Exactly as Felicity had said. Beautiful and brilliant and bold, and clearly better at parenting than he was, even though he had five-and-twenty years of experience, and she was…five-and-twenty. He grimaced.
“That’s not happening this time, Colborn. You will remain here, and we will do things as a family and celebrate Pandora’s birthday. Once that is over, you will go to Brackenridge Hollow. It should only require a few months of work until the horses are ready for travel. I want you to lay off the vices—no drink, no women, no cards.”
Colborn’s eyebrows slammed together, and his lip curled up as if Ash’s words tasted sour. His eyes were wide with incredulity, or possibly incomprehension. Because apparently his son couldn’t fathom a world where his vices were taken from him.
“I mean it, Colborn. Partake in something ludicrous calledworkand do some self-reflection. I will join you at the end of summer, and we will bring the horses here together. And then, instead of flitting off to London or some raucous house party, you will stay here with us.”
“Is that another ultimatum? Remain here, or I’m cut off,” his son muttered, staring hard at the rug.
Ash blew out a sigh. “Look at me, Colborn.”
His son reluctantly met his gaze, one so much like his own, sometimes he felt as though he was looking into his past when he looked at his son. A past he never wanted to relive.
“It is not an ultimatum. It is a father asking to spend time with his son, so they can start making up for five-and-twenty years of distance.”
Colborn swallowed, his lips flat and jaw clenched. But he remained silent. Remained glaring at Ash’s desk as though he could light the papers atop it on fire with his gaze.
“I hope—one day—you will understand why I am doing this.”
Colborn’s childish snort and exaggerated eye roll suggested otherwise. But then his stare clashed with Ash’s, and what Ash saw there was akin to a knife to the gut.
“You’ve changed,” Colborn murmured.
And just like his eyes, his tone held a flicker of hope. Or a plea, perhaps. A silent plea for a father who did more than throw money at him to make him disappear. And that knife in Ash’s belly? He deserved to be gutted with it. Lord, how he had failed the young man before him.
“I have not been the father you deserve, Colborn. I mean to rectify that.”
Colborn dipped his chin in a nod, and when he finally spoke, his voice was rough. “I suppose I could stay. If the vice restriction is lifted once I return here.”
Ash’s throat thickened, and his chest seemed to collapse in on his heart. Yet at the same time he wanted to burst out laughing.
They had a long way to go, but perhaps there was a sliver of possibility for him and Colborn yet. For one of his two sons. But the words Colborn threw at Ash back in the library still sat heavily, an iron cloak of guilt.
Like you never harmed her.
He had. It was the truth. He was responsible for his late wife’s death, and his sons blamed him for it. The sliver of hope withered away. He feared that was a mountain too large to ever overcome.
“Have you heard from Jacob?” he asked, his words tired and dejected. “Do you know if he’ll be joining us for Pandora’s birthday?”
Colborn’s face went suspiciously blank. “I believe he’s too busy with his studies.”
While Jacob was away at Oxford, Ash always hoped his son could find time to come home for Pandora’s birthday, but for the past two years Jacob had attended university, he hadn’t had time. Whether that was true or an excuse, it was clear Colborn wasn’t going to provide any information about his brother. Ash hoped that meant Jacob at least had Colborn for support. Not that any twenty-year-old should be looking to Colborn for support or guidance.
“That is what I had thought. It has been a long while since he has come home, even when term is over.” And just in case Colborn and Jacob did stay in touch… “My letters to him, just as mine to you, go unanswered. I hope he knows he is welcome home any time.”
