He’d taken his time looking for Erasmus because he hadn’t really wanted to find his uncle, nor did he want to face Greenbriar and his own guilt, trapped neatly within the confines of its walls. Instead, Ambrose had stopped to check on the tenants he’d been successful in either luring back or convincing to stay. There was a pig farmer, Jasper, who he had high hopes for. A portion of the fence around Jasper’s pigs was in disrepair, so Ambrose had gotten in the muck with the farmer and helped him fix it.
Feeling somewhat lighter after the physical labor but still unwilling to see Theodosia’s reaction to Greenbriar, Ambrose had made two more stops, greeting his few tenants and asking what he could do to help them. His father had taught him the importance of listening before he became a walking tragedy.
It would take several years or more for Greenbriar to be profitable again, or at least be self-sufficient, but even so, Ambrose wasn’t about to pin his financial hopes on the estate. Poverty had been a bitter pill to swallow, and one he vowed never to taste again. After the marriage contracts had been signed, Ambrose had paid a visit to Estwood. His friend had already invested a portion of Theodosia’s dowry. There was more than enough left over for Greenbriar.
Eventually, he’d found Erasmus, so drunk he could barely speak. The punch he’d thrown at his nephew, because he thought Ambrose to be a ‘frightening monster’ as he put it, missed. It did not miss the tankard of ale sitting on the bar, which splashed all over another one of the patrons. After a small fistfight which Ambrose had enjoyed more than he should have, he’d pulled his uncle up from the tavern floor where he’d fallen asleep once again. He probably should have just left Erasmus there with bits of dirt and sawdust stuck to his face, but he didn’t. Uncle Erasmus, for better or worse, was all Ambrose had left of his father. He considered Erasmus a sort of penance for leaving Greenbriar. A punishment for never mending things with his father before he died, something Erasmus reminded him of often.
Looking up, Ambrose remembered Theodosia’s ridiculous declaration that she would rather admire the ceiling than dare to enjoy being bedded by him. His chest still ached at knowing he’d hurt her. He was bound to do so again. The sound of her breathing, deep and even, met his ears over the mound of pillows and the scent of lemons caught in his nose. Placing a hand on one of the pillows, he pushed it down until he caught sight of Theodosia’s back.
“I’m hiring servants. An army of them,” Theodosia said clearly.
She hadn’t fallen asleep after all. Little faker. “I would expect you to. I’m only shocked the house isn’t crawling with them already.”
“Miss Emerson might know how to plan a menu, but I doubt she knows how to pick out the appropriate hue for a drawing room.”
Ambrose had no idea what Theodosia was talking about, nor did he care. What mattered was that she was speaking to him again. “Fortunate I compromised you and not Miss Emerson then, isn’t it?”
A small, feminine grunt was his only response.
His chest constricted as Ambrose’s feelings for his wife took on a more brilliant sheen, one he didn’t even try to push away. He wanted so badly to touch her and tell her again how sorry he was for hurting her.
Gorgeous, half-blind creature, I adore you.
20
The next several days passed in a flurry of activity. Theo arose early, Betts at her side, and faced the challenge of Greenbriar with all the confidence she could muster. When her bravado flagged, she reminded herself there was no one else but her to put the estate to rights.
The line of pillows stayed in the middle of the bed she shared with Haven because Theo refused to remove the barrier while she was still hurt. She was asleep when Haven finally came to their room at night, barely stirring at the sound of him taking off his boots, and he was gone when she awoke. She was certain his avoidance was on purpose to allow her anger towards him to fade. And it was working.
On the morning of her third day at Greenbriar, as she and Jacinda were enjoying a pot of tea and a small tray of freshly baked scones before tackling the frightening task of opening some of the guestrooms, Theo finally made the acquaintance of Uncle Erasmus.
Erasmus shuffled into the drawing room reeking of brandy and disappointment, thin strands of dark hair clinging to his pale scalp. Watery but kind eyes took in Jacinda before he approached Theo, stopping just a few feet away.
“Lady Haven.” The words trembled between his thin lips. “My apologies for not greeting you properly when you arrived at Greenbriar.” His face took on a worried look. “I quite forgot—that is to say—I was indisposed. Please forgive me.”
Erasmus must once have been handsome, but his love of drink was now etched across his features. His fingers trembled against his thighs as he approached, his gaze running over Theo with more focus than she’d expected before he shook his head and began swatting at a non-existent bug.
No wonder Haven pities him.
“There is no apology necessary,” Theo replied with a broad smile. “I am happy to make your acquaintance, Lord Erasmus.”
“Uncle Erasmus.” He lifted a finger, grinning wide and showing yellowed teeth. “I’ve a new niece, have I not?”
“You do, Uncle,” Jacinda said crisply from beside Theo.
“I was hoping,” he looked nervously at Jacinda, “you might spare some coin?”
Jacinda held out her hand to Erasmus who came forward like a dog looking for a treat. “Now, Uncle,” she chastised, “remember what I told you. It will last much longer if you buy something other than brandy.”
He snatched the coins from her palm. “But brandy,” he said in a quivering voice, “is my favorite.”
Jacinda only nodded and returned to her book, dismissing her uncle without another glance. She didn’t see the way her uncle’s trembling lips pulled apart into what resembled a sneer.
But Theo did.
She looked to Jacinda, who seemed oblivious to her uncle’s continued presence in the drawing room, and when Theo looked back at Erasmus, he was waving at her, the smile back on his features, his eyes dreamy as he looked down at his hand clutching the coins.
“Good day, nieces,” he said with a shaky bow before closing the door behind him.
