When Colin raised his eye to look around the room for no particular reason, he saw Baron Hampton walking toward them, and his teeth clenched, while his hands tightened on the sheet he was holding. To keep from crumpling it, he slid it back to Nathaniel.
His friend noticed his changed demeanor and glanced back, then he turned back to Colin with a questioning look. Colin only shook his head, silently telling him that it was not something he could discuss with him.
“Your Grace.” Baron Hampton bowed when he reached them.
“Baron Hampton,” Colin drawled coolly. When Hampton looked at Nathaniel, he decided to introduce them and get that out of the way. “I do not believe you are acquainted with my friend, Sir Nathaniel Bradford. Anna’s father.”
“Great to make your acquaintance,” Hampton said cordially and Nathaniel rose.
“Likewise, My Lord.” Then he excused himself and Hampton sat in the chair he vacated.
“I heard you were in town, and I wanted to speak with you,” Hampton began, his shoulders slightly slumped.
Colin still regarded him warily. “What have you to say to me? If you wish to inquire about Anna’s well-being, I can assure you that she is well and happy, and you may confirm that from her sister.”
The corners of Hampton’s mouth turned downward. “I know she is well. She wrote to her mother, and I read some of the letters.” Colin knew when Anna began to respond to her mother’s letters, but he could not recall her father writing to her.
“Why have you never written to her?” he asked.
“I do not think she would want to hear anything I have to say. That is why I am here, you see. I want to apologize to you, and hopefully reach Anna with time.”
“Can you not do that through her mother?”
Hampton shook his head. “Yes, but I wish to apologize to you foremost.”
Colin sighed. “I am not the one in need of your apology.”
“Yes, I know that, Your Grace, but you are her husband, and she will consider your opinion before she considers anyone else’s.”
He was right. Anna would listen to Colin if he pleaded to her on her father’s behalf. The question of his willingness hung in the air, however. He leaned back in his seat and waited for Hampton to continue.
“I have realized my errors—"
Colin had to cut him off with a raised hand. “Beating your daughter for years is not an error, Hampton. It is cowardice. Your pride was too large for you to gently ask what you wanted from her, so you resorted to violence.” He could feel his blood rushing vigorously in his veins, and his hands made fists. Swallowing, Colin willed himself to be calm and listen to what Hampton was saying.
“You are correct, Your Grace. I was cowardly, and the greatest regret of my existence is the unkindness I have shown Anna. I want to seek her forgiveness, and if she is willing, mend our broken bond.”
Hampton bowed his head and blinked rapidly, hiding his tears. Colin could not deny him the opportunity to be a father to his daughter once more. It was up to Anna, even if Colin would never regard him as a father-in-law after what he had done.
“You may begin by writing to Anna. Give her time to respond, and know that when she does, it will be from her heart and not anything I tell her.”
Hampton raised his head, a hopeful gleam in his eyes. “Yes, I understand, Your Grace. I thank you.”
Colin nodded. His father never had the heart to change, but if he could help Hampton become a better man, for everyone’s sake and especially for Anna’s, he would perhaps try.
Anna and her sister were passing the afternoon, with Catherine reading to Anna, when Mrs. Willis walked into the drawing room, grinning. She curtsied, then announced, “His Grace has returned.”
Anna sat up, disturbing Nips, who gave her a displeased look before leaping off her lap and curling on the seat beside her. She stood and smoothed her hand over her skirt, her heart racing, while Catherine smiled up at her.
“Do I look fine?” she asked both her sister and Mrs. Willis.
“Of course, you do,” they said at once.
Anna walked out of the room, her steps steady, but once she saw Colin by the front door speaking with Chalker, her steps quickened. He turned when he heard her, and started walking toward her. Their patience thinning, they began to run, and he swept her up into his arms.
She held him, breathed in his scent, and relished his very presence. Anna had been wounded like a tight string while he was away, but she could be relieved now. He took her face in his hands and kissed her, not caring that they were in the middle of the great hall and there were servants about. Anna did not care either.
“Anna,” he whispered against her lips, “never allow me to be parted from you again.”
