Felicity considered that. “He’s certainly shown me how in the past few weeks. How to offer strength without expecting anything in return.”
“And that’s what you’ll do,” Elise said, then straightened up as the carriage turned and a cottage came into view. It overlooked the bluffs and the sea.
“We’re here,” Felicity said, her voice beginning to shake. “What if I can’t help him? What if I can’t be enough? What if—”
Elise touched her hand. “You are. You always have been. You know that.”
Felicity took a long breath as the carriage door was opened, and stepped out just in time to see Asher get down from the first carriage, helping down Celia and Rosalinde, then handing them off to Gray and Dane, who had been riding alongside on horseback during the journey.
She moved to him, sliding her fingers into his, looking up at him with what she hoped was a smile of strength. And he returned the expression, though his own smile was shaky at best. She only hoped she could help him as he had helped her.
The door to the cottage opened and Asher tensed as his father appeared in the doorway. He knew he looked like the man, although his father was lined and wrinkled by age and loss. His hair was gray. But they shared the same dark eyes and the same jaw. In his father’s face, he saw Rosalinde’s nose. Celia’s smile.
And he knew, even more than ever, what he was about to do. For himself, for his sisters, for his father.
He was bringing his family home. And he was terrified at what would happen. Especially when his father looked startled by the great gaggle of people who had been deposited on his drive.
Felicity squeezed Asher’s hand. “I’m here,” she whispered.
He looked down into her upturned face. She was so lovely and focused on him. He felt her strength pulsing into him and he took it all. He needed it as he finally released her and made his way to the door, where he embraced his father.
“Good afternoon, Father,” he said.
“Asher,” Seyton said, smiling, though he kept looking at the others. “And you’ve brought…well, the entire Danford clan, it seems.”
“I have,” Asher said gently. “Are you unhappy?”
He saw a flash of displeasure on his father’s face. A flash of the defiance when confronted with those who were titled, which Asher had often noticed in his childhood. He hadn’t understood it, especially when his father always preached so strongly about their “place” as servants.
Now he did understand it.
“Of course not.” Seyton stepped forward and Stenfax met him, hand outstretched in greeting.
“Mr. Seyton, such a long time, and we’ve missed you,” Stenfax said. “Perhaps we could go inside and we’ll…we’ll make the other introductions there.”
Seyton shifted, sending his son another look. “Well, it’s nothing fine, my lord. Just a small home.”
“It’s lovely,” Felicity said, moving forward. “Seyton, how wonderful to see you.”
“Lady Fel—er, Lady Barbridge,” Seyton said, taking the hand she offered. He sent another side glance toward Asher. “You look lovely.”
“Come,” Asher said, ushering him inside. “We have much to discuss.”
It took a few moments to situate everyone. His father kept no servants, but Elise rushed off to pour tea and Felicity went to help. The others gathered in his father’s small parlor. Asher watched Celia and Rosalinde as everyone found their places. They had not yet greeted his father and simply stared at this man they had been looking for so long.
Once Felicity and Elise had returned, Asher cleared his throat. “Father, I know I’ve sprung guests on you, and for that I apologize. But I wasn’t certain how you would react if I told you I was about to bring down so many people into your house. Or who they were.”
Seyton’s eyes went wide. “Asher, you needn’t imply that I wouldn’t welcome—”
“But you don’t welcome,” Asher interrupted. “I never understood why until now. I never understood…”
He trailed off as his voice caught, for he stared at his father and saw the depth of pain in his eyes. He’d never recognized it before, but it was grief, never lost and never tempered. Grief that could only come from having almost everything you loved torn away from you. At being impotent against the forces of evil.
He had such respect for his father now, but he needed to do more than guess the truth. He needed to know.
“Celia, Rosalinde,” he said, motioning them forward.
At those names, his father caught his breath and his grip tightened on his cup.
