“Oh, Son. There was nothing for you to prove.” His father let out a long breath. “Apparently, this conversation is long overdue. Henry, I am proud of you. You have grown into a fine man. I thank you for all the care you have shown those around you, and I know the estate will be well managed when I am gone. But being responsible does not mean refusing to ask for help. It is knowingwhento ask and learning to let go of what isn’t yours. Otherwise, you are in danger of shutting out the very ones you wish to help.”
Henry pressed his knuckles to his mouth, the truth hitting him harder than expected. Because that was exactly what he had done, to Juliet most of all. When she needed belief, he’d given suspicion. When she offered help, he’d kept her at arm’s length. He sat back heavily, the chair groaning beneath him. “I thought I was protecting everyone, but … maybe … I was only isolating myself. Even from God. Because as you’ve pointed out, I was carrying burdens that were never meant to be mine alone.”
“Then perhaps it is time to set them down.”
The words loosened a knot inside him. His father was right. Hedidn’thave to do this alone. And now that he thought on it, he hadn’t been. God had been there, providing help even when he’d been too stubborn to ask for it, all bundled in a wild sprite of a woman.
He blew out a steadying breath. “Despite my failure to contact you, Juliet came along at the right time. Her tracking skills are impeccable, and she knows the grounds hereabouts better than Carver. So, instead of pressing charges, I made a deal with her to help me find who was after Charity.” Yet how often had he hindered even that providential aid with his doubts and second-guessing? All because he assumed Charity washissole responsibility.
And she wasn’t.
A sigh deflated him. “That went a bit sideways, though, as I now fear whoever has been tormenting Charity is trying to scare off Juliet as well.”
His father trapped him with an all-knowing stare. “You care for this woman.”
Care? No. That was too small a sentiment. Something far too unmatched for the way she had somehow become his very breath. Juliet challenged him in ways he’d never imagined. Infuriated him like none other. Broke him and remade him with nothing but a smile.
But he couldn’t very well blurt that out—not to the man who’d schooled him in duty since he could walk in straight lines.
So he offered the truth, trimmed and tidy. “I do.”
The words hovered, not loud, but loud enough. Like thunder far off—distant, inevitable. Whether his father brushed them away like lint or let them settle into his bones, it made no difference. Juliet had already taken root.
Henry squared his shoulders, voice steady. “But I vow I have not let my feelings stand in the way of caring for Charity, especially not when she was ill.”
“Ill? Blast it all, Henry!” His father jumped to his feet, pounding to the door and back, eyes ablaze. “My daughter has been ill, and you did not tell me of it? You take things too far!”
“Ididsend word about her contracting bilious fever. I suspect, however, that you left Italy before the message arrived. Furthermore, you need to know that she was also—”
A sharp rap on the door cut him off. Mrs. Hamby stepped in, face paling. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Russell, Master Henry”—she nodded at each of them in turn—“but you must come at once. The constable is in the sitting room with Miss Finch, and—”
Henry didn’t wait for the rest. He dashed past her, heart in his throat, striding down the corridor with clipped steps. Juliet had only just received her release hours ago. Surely the man wasn’t here to shove her back into that wretched rathole?
Was he?
He stormed into the sitting room where Juliet stood near a chair, more lovely than she had a right to be with her posture picture-perfect and demeanor calm despite the rough-and-tumble Mr. Fisk pacing before her.
Henry stationed himself a step in front of her, a human shield that Fisk would dare not cross if he knew what was good for him. “What is this about?” The question flew out strident and harsh.
“Henry.” His name was a growl on his father’s lips as he trailed Henry into the room.
In a much more pleasant tone, his father approached the big constable, extending his hand. “Good afternoon, Mr. Fisk.”
The constable gave him a hearty shake. “Afternoon, Mr. Russell. I didn’t know you were back in town.”
“I only arrived a few hours ago.” A wily smile curved his lips. “I trust you kept lawlessness from reigning in my absence.”
Fisk chuckled. “I do my best.”
“Well then.” His father retreated a step. “To what do we owe your visit?”
The constable worried his hat with his fingers as his glance flicked amongst them all. “Mr. Scather reported quite a few bottles of laudanum have gone missing. He mentioned Miss Finch’s name in association and that it could be linked to your daughter’s recent poisoning.”
Henry sucked air in between his teeth. He hadn’t gotten to that part yet.
And his father signaled his horror in the magnificent scowl he directed Henry’s way. “You did not tell me about that.”
Henry squared his shoulders. Better to go down bravely. “I was about to when Mrs. Hamby came in.”
