After trading looks with Papa, James replied, “He was not certain that he would be welcome.”
Ethan stiffened. “I never said or did anything to?—”
“It is not you, son. It’s Owen. After the price you paid for his mistakes…”
Papa drew a breath and looked at him squarely, and Ethan glimpsed the pain behind the stoicism. The pain of a father who knows that he cannot make things right between his sons, that they would either come to an understanding themselves…or they wouldn’t.
“Owen understands that you have every right to your anger,” Papa finished quietly. “For what it is worth, he is trying to do better. He has, for instance, given up spirits.”
“How long has this lasted?” Ethan asked cynically.
“Longer than his previous attempts.” James shrugged.
The battle between anger and forgiveness raged inside Ethan. Why was it so difficult to let go of the past? Why couldn’t he move on?
“This is your home, Ethan,” Papa said. “We—not just Owen, but all of us—are here to assist, in whatever fashion you see fit.”
Ethan accepted his papa’s acknowledgment with a gruff nod. “I am glad you came. The situation has grown worrisome.”
Tacitly taking his cue, Papa shifted the topic of conversation. “Do you trust this fellow Rawlins to carry out the investigation?”
“Don’t let Rawlins’s manner fool you. He is sharper than he appears.”
“My old friend Ambrose Kent, the retired investigator, lives in Chudleigh Crest,” Papa said. “When I heard what was happening, I tried to contact him, but he is visiting the Continent with his family.”
“There’s no need to trouble Mr. Kent,” Ethan said. “I can handle the matter.”
“We will help,” James stated. “Ad Finem Fidelis.”
For once, the invoking of the family motto didn’t stir Ethan’s antipathy. Instead, he felt…grateful. Tragedy had strained but not broken the Harrington bonds.
“I would appreciate the help,” he said.
He saw his father and brother’s surprised expressions.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Nothing. It’s just that…” James smoothed a crease on his trousers. “You seem changed.”
“Leaving London helped.”
“I mean you’ve changed since I saw you last. It has been less than three weeks, and your state of mind seems improved.” James gestured at him. “Your overall disposition as well.”
“It is even more obvious to me,” Papa said. “For I have not seen you since…well, it has been a few months.”
“You were going to say since Constance jilted me,” Ethan said.
Papa sighed. “My apologies. I did not mean to bring that up.”
“It is all right.”
“Is it, son?”
Before inheriting the marquessate, Papa had had a military career. As Lieutenant Colonel Blackwood, he’d been a hero who’d fought Bonaparte. To those under his command, he’d been known for his fairness, integrity, and insistence upon the truth. Growing up, Ethan and his brothers had been no match for the steely-blue gaze, which had led to many a boyhood confession.
In this instance, though, Ethan was glad to share the truth.
“Yes,” he said. “I am fine. Better than fine, actually.”
