“I am sure he will come to see that.” Colborn absently studied his fingernails and mumbled, “Though he may also fear he might get exiled, so who knows…”
Despite his sins feeling more oppressive than ever, Ash’s lips twitched at his son’s sulky tone. Colborn was truly such a child. Ash prayed thisexilewould be the start of him growing up.
“So, you really didn’t sleep with her?”
Ash jerked back slightly at the abrupt question. He met Colborn’s questioning gaze. “Of course I didn’t.”
Guilt over his kiss with Felicity burned his cheeks, and it took everything in his power not to tug at his cravat. He had tried so fucking hard, and yet he still had betrayed his son, even if he hadn’t slept with Felicity.
“You look very guilty for someone professing he’s innocent in all of this.”
“Someone can feel guilt even if they didn’t commit the crime. I may not have slept with her, but…”
“But you want to.” Colborn laughed, and he seemed genuinely amused. “I’m not sure it even bothers me that you do. I…I think I was more angry you took away something that was supposed to be mine than the fact that it was Felicity at all.” He grimaced. “As you’ve pointed out, I’m not sure what that says about me. You feel guilty purely forthinkingsomething wrong.”
But it hadn’t been justthinking. He had acted, and he couldn’t keep that from his son. “I wanted to, yes. And I didn’t.” He held his son’s gaze. “But I did kiss her.”
“Oh.” A rapid array of emotions flickered over Colborn’s face, then his gaze dropped to the floor, and his face slackened. His brow furrowed, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly.
“Despite the current situation, your treatment of Felicity, and my upset with you… You have every right to be angry with me for what I did.”
His son continued to stare at the rug in silence.
“I still betrayed you, Colborn. And for that, I must offer my sincerest apologies.”
Colborn shook his head and finally met Ash’s gaze again. “It’s odd. I do not think I’m mad about it. I mean, I am mad, I suppose. She is mine—”
A low growl rumbled deep in Ash’s throat, and Colborn’s eyes widened.
“Was mine,” Colborn hastily amended.
Ash slapped a hand on his thigh. “No, she wasn’t, Colborn.” He looked to the heavens for patience. “She was still her own person, even when she was your betrothed. But you didn’t see her as such. You saw her as your possession, belonging to you. And yes, I understand that is what the law dictates. But that is precisely why you are in no place to be someone’s husband. In a world where a woman is legally entrusted to your care, you must be fit for the task of protecting her—of providing her with the life she wants, just as you are fortunate to be free to live the life you want. Legally, she has no choice but to give you complete control over her. You must be deserving of that responsibility. It is a gift.”
“Just as you were deserving of that role with Mother?” Colborn’s words were soft, but that didn’t make them any less sharp, any less precise in hitting their mark.
Ash picked up his son’s whisky and threw the rest back, wishing he could submerge himself in the burn of the liquor. He stared at the empty glass, watching the small drop of amber liquid remaining curl around the bottom as he spun it slowly in his hands.
Ash drew in a deep breath, though it did nothing to combat the tightness in his lungs. “I failed your mother, Colborn. And I have failed you and Jacob.”
He met his son’s gaze and said the words that forever haunted him. “Your mother paid the price with her life. I will never forgive myself for that, and I will never be able to adequately express how sorry I am for taking your mother from you.”
The sorrow, the guilt, the pain filled him, took up all the space inside him so there wasn’t any left. No space for breathing lungs, no space for a beating heart, no space for pulsing blood.
“That is what happens when someone is entrusted to your care, and you are not fit for the role. I do not want that to be your fate as well.”
Colborn looked away, his fingers drumming on the arms of his chair. “I may see your point,” he said quietly, his voice tight. “I’m not sure even my own future can be trusted in my hands. I can’t help but think that if I had been in your shoes and someone like Felicity tried to seduce me, I wouldn’t have put up a fight at all. Regardless of if she was my son’s betrothed. And I think that might scare the shite out of me.”
He slowly lifted his gaze back to Ash, his eyes searching. “How am I your son when we are so vastly different?”
Ash’s stomach turned over. At the question. At the lost look in his son’s eyes. Because he knew the answer. How could a father and son be anything alike if a father was never present?
“We are different because we have lived very different lives,” Ash said, forcing the words past the thick remorse. “It’s never too late to change and grow for the better.” He let out a self-derisive huff. “God, look at me and how I have failed you. Five-and-twenty years, Colborn. Of failing. But I am determined to make sure that from this day forward, things are different.”
His gaze dropped to his empty glass. “I hope with time you will find that’s not how you would act in that situation any longer. I hope you are smarter than me and figure it out much, much faster.”
Colborn cocked an eyebrow. “Perhaps. And since we’ll be spending more time together, maybe some of your decency will rub off on me.”
Ash might be fooling himself, but the glimmer in Colborn’s eyes had him thinking that just maybe—in this small moment—they weren’t at odds.
