He was very jealous.
If only the things he wanted weren’t mutually exclusive! He adored exploring new places and having adventures. But he did yearn for somewhere to call his home. Someone to miss him when he was gone. Someone to come hometo.
No... not “someone” in general.
Angelica in specific.
He longed for her more than he’d ever longed for anything. With her, everything was better. He hadn’t minded being cooped up in a tiny jeweler’s shop. He’d looked forward to it. Rushed over at first light. Schemed how best to stay all day.
Just to have one more moment with her.
“I’ve seen how you spend money,” Calvin said hesitantly. “If you’re now in a tight spot, just let me know and I’ll—”
“Good God, no,” Jonathan interrupted.
When he had told Angelica his history, he hadn’t thought of it in the context of other people’s experiences, including her own. Jonathan was the son of a laird, boo-hoo. Jonathan’s father forced a very large amount of money upon him, boo-hoo.
Nobody could guess the circumstances of his birth by looking at him. Being the bastard of a laird made Jonathan rich, not poor. He was accepted into more places, not fewer. He was actively choosing not to utilize his many advantages.
How had she managed not to box his ears?
If he hated the money so much, he could give it all to charity. Or to abolitionists. Or to orphanages. Was it really such a cross to bear?
As female and Black, Angelica had dealt with far worse disadvantages, and she wasn’t spending her Christmas sobbing into a mug of hot chocolate. She was a clever, talented, joyful success, with a delightful, loving, joyful family. She had not one home, but two.
And he had asked her to give both up in favor of peddling waistcoats and fancy breeches.
All because of his father.
Jonathan had let his entire world be upset by one person discounting him. He glowered at his chocolate. Although he gave the trust money away, his actions bought the appreciation and approval his father had never given him.
The time had come to move on. The only person who should hold the reins of his life was himself.
“I’ve never found a place I felt I belonged to,” he admitted.
Calvin looked at him in disbelief. “Nowhereyou’ve traveled through might possibly do? Have you considered that it might be up toyouto make a place your home, rather than expect the place to do it for you?”
Jonathan did not dignify this excellent rejoinder with a reply.
The truth was, he’d been searching for belonging. From the moment of his conception, all the places he’d seen and all the people he’d met had let him leave without complaint. He wanted someone to stop him.
It had never happened.
“Whatever you’re thinking,” Calvin said. “Turn it around.”
Jonathan scowled at him. What an absolutely insufferable prig.
Who might be right.
Maybe Angelica didn’t want to have toaskJonathan to stay. Maybe she wantedhimto want to.
To chooseher.
Instead, Jonathan’s grand plan had been... to leave her behind. To expect coin to be enough, just like his father had done to Jonathan and his mother.
“Ah,” said Calvin. “You’re wearing an I’ve-been-an-idiot expression. A common affliction among those who are the root of their own problems.”
“I’ve walked away from the only place that felt like home,” Jonathan admitted. “The onlypersonthat felt like home.”
