Page 110 of The Gentlewoman Companion

The moment brought his father to mind. Samuel frequently inquired after their father, curious about the man who had helped bring him into the world. On more than one occasion, James had caught the boy looking up at the late earl’s portrait. It was natural to be interested in one’s father, but James struggled to know what to say about him. The distrust and bitterness he’d developed for his father had dissipated somewhat, but a dull ache of betrayal remained.

At the pond, better memories emerged. “Our father used to take me here,” James told Samuel. “He was a great sportsman. On a horse, with a mallet, a gun, or a fishing pole. He outdid everyone.”

Samuel nodded, his face becoming serious. “I will be like our father, then. Will you show us how to fish? I can be quiet.”

James’s chest tightened.

“Let’s go fish,” Samuel said, pulling his friend toward the fishing rods.

They set up for fishing once again, and true to his word, Samuel was silent and kept Tom in check.

Their lines freshly baited, they fished with more success, keeping the bigger fish and throwing back the smaller until the line held enough fish for supper.

That night, James visited the nursery to bid goodnight to his little brother.

“Thank you for today…brother,” Samuel said, turning James’s heart to a pool of wax.

James nodded. “Good night, little brother.”

He turned to leave, but Samuel asked, “Was our father as kind as you?”

How to respond? His father had certainly been diligent in caring for James, yet he had not cared for Margaret and Samuel as he should have. But hadn’t James just done something reprehensible in the name of kindness? He did not want Samuel to only know a father of lies and infidelity. He deserved to know the praiseworthy parts of his father so he could pattern himself in a better way. “Our father was a caring, good father to me, but no one is perfect. I like to think he would have shown you every kindness if he had brought you home to be raised here.”

He descended the stairs to the parlor, where Meg waited for him. She had been looking for furniture, and they had not spoken all day.

“Did you find everything you need?” he asked her.

“I did, thank you, but I wish you had consulted me before leasing that apartment.”

Meg had gone to London to hire a trusted neighbor from Rosemary Lane as a housekeeper. While away, the building had come for lease. “You are right, of course. I was worried it would be let before you returned. I did not imagine you would take exception to it.”

“The lodgings suit my needs. It’s the attached shop that worries me. Mr. Sloan doesn’t want to apprentice me and will not take kindly to my owning a shop across from his. I will make an enemy of the person from whom I most need support.”

“It isn’t a shop yet and won’t be until you finish your education, but when it is, everyone visiting the tailor will notice you. It’s good for business. Until then, keep the windows curtained. You can use it to store supplies for your future shop.”

“All right.” She bit her lips together as if trying to contain a smile.

James raised his brows in question.

“I accept the challenge to impress the county with my skill and will not put your efforts to waste. There is no need for Mr. Sloan to think well of me.”

He laughed, but a quiet pride unsettled him. What had begun as obligation or even penance had evolved into a deep satisfaction that ran above the still tender ache of his father’s infidelity. Within his admiration for Meg’s resilience was found the peace of healing as the bond between him and his sister strengthened.