“I came to speak with Lord Hamilton about the stall repairs,” he said, voice low. “Didn’t expect to find you here.”
The useless urge to explain rose in William’s throat.
“I never meant—” he began.
“Don’t.”
Thomas’s tone was soft—he had never been a man to raise his voice in anger, and that quiet restraint struck harder than any shout.
“Don’t stand there and tell me what you ‘never meant.’ I knew you from the time you were a boy, my lord. I believed I knew your character. I was wrong.”
His voice cracked.
“Because I saw the heartbreak your choices left in my daughter when she finally wrote to us… and when her mother and I came to her. And I have seen it on her every day since.”
William could not speak. The truth of Violet’s suffering landed with quiet finality, hollowing him from the inside.
Footsteps sounded on the staircase. William glanced up to see Nathaniel descending the steps. Thomas did not turn; his gaze stayed fixed on William.
“My Violet loved you,” he went on, the words thickening with sorrow.
“Loved you with a loyalty I prayed wouldn’t destroy her.”
His grip on his cap tightened.
“And you… you shattered her.”
The quiet force of those words hit like a blow. William flinched.
“Mr. Hayes,” Nathaniel said gently as he reached the foot of the stairs, “Violet would not want a confrontation waged on her behalf.”
A muscle jumped in Thomas’s jaw.
“You do not know what he did to my Violet—how much he hurt her.”
Nathaniel stepped to William’s side, offering the older man a respectful incline of the head.
“She told me her truth,” he said quietly.
Thomas finally shifted his gaze toward Nathaniel now, something raw tightening his features.
“Good,” he whispered. “It was a truth she carried alone for far too long.”
William’s stomach dropped, shame settling like a verdict he could not dispute.
Thomas Hayes lifted his cap and settled it back onto his head, hands steadying the brim.
“I’ve work to return to,” he said stiffly. “When you have a moment, Lord Hamilton, you might find me in the stables. There are matters I must go over with you.”
“I’ll come shortly, Mr. Hayes,” Nathaniel replied, his tone gentle but steady.
Mr. Hayes nodded once to Nathaniel, then walked past William without a backward glance, boots fading down the corridor with measured, resolute steps.
For a long moment, William stood frozen, throat tight, vision stinging.
“I was only headed to my rooms,” he murmured. “I… have need of some time alone.”
Nathaniel rested a hand briefly on his shoulder. “I’ll have someone fetch you when it is time for dinner.”
