“On the contrary. I have come to tell you that you are doing everything right. You have withdrawn, and you are drowningyour sorrows and pushing everyone away. It is the perfect way to heal.”
“Very funny.”
“I am serious! Sherton, if this is what you want to do, I am not going to stop you. If there is one thing that I have learned of late, it is that we are all in control of what we do, and that we cannot live with regrets. If you believe that you will not regret acting this way, then far be it from me to force your hand.”
George raised an eyebrow at that. That was not how his friend was, nor how he had ever been. He had always been there to guide George, as George was for him in return.
“Has something happened, Willoughby?”
“Yes, but it is not important at this time. What matters is that you know I am more than happy for you to do as you please. I will not tell you what to do.”
“But–”
But he wanted him to. He wanted someone to tell him he was a fool, and to chase after what he wanted rather than simply accepting defeat. There was so much that he wanted his friend to say, and the fact that he was not doing so simply did not help him at all.
“What has happened?” he asked again. “You were never like this.”
“I shall tell you when all of this is over.”
“Over?”
“Yes. You and I both know that you will do what is right soon enough, because you cannot help yourself. I do not need to tell you what to do, for you will come to your senses whether I tell you to or not.”
They were quiet for a moment, and George had to admit that his friend was right. Not only that, but if he was going to do what was right, it had to be of his own accord, not because he had been told to do it.
“I know what you are doing,” he muttered.
“Good,” his friend replied. “I want you to be happy, Sherton, but not because you were forced to be. You know what you want, and you know where to find it. If you want to prove that you are your own man, then prove it. Otherwise, we can continue to sit and drink. I shall not tell you which choice to make.”
George nodded, and took his drink in one. The sound of the glass was heavy against the wood, and he slammed it down so hard that people turned to him, but he did not notice. There was a resolve in him that had disappeared long ago, and it burnedbrightly within him. He returned home at a quicker pace than he had thought possible, and had a horse prepared at once.
“George?” Philippa asked from nearby in the garden. “What are you doing?”
“I am doing what I should have done long ago. I am going to find Lady Cassandra and tell her how I feel. Are you coming?”
“Me? I could not possibly– why, society would think–”
“If you suddenly care about what thetonthinks, then you owe me an apology for how you have treated me of late. Now, I do not have time for you to fret about such trivial matters of what may be thought of you. I am leaving imminently. Are you coming, or not?”
With one final glance back at the household, Philippa turned to him and nodded firmly.
“I will come with you, but we must tell Grandmother first.”
Their grandmother was, as George expected, more than happy for them to leave.
“I shall need some time to myself,” she nodded. “I will wait here for you both. Do what is right, George. I believe in you.”
It was the first time that she truly did seem to have faith in him, and it mattered to him far more than he cared to admit. They left within the hour, and the carriage ride crawled by, George watching the landscape change.
“Do you suppose she will turn me away?” he asked.
“I do not know. What do you think that she will do?”
“I do not know, but I hope that she will not. In any case, I have to try. If she does, then at least it has been her choice. I will not rest, but I will one day find peace.”
“And that would be a good thing, Brother. I should apologize for what happened this morning.”
“You have nothing to apologize for, Philippa. You have every right to be angry with me.”
