Even if Theodosia forgave him one day, and he prayed she would, she would never give up her family. And if Ambrose didn’t put aside his anger—
Leo Murphy was likely guilty of many questionable things; he had to be in his line of work. But he hadn’t made Edmund Collingwood a drunk. Ambrose’s father had managed that all on his own. Acceptance of his father’s failings was painful, but also necessary. He had to believe the evidence his father’s behavior presented and put the past behind him, as difficult as that may be. It would do no good to continue to blame Murphy.
Because he loved Theodosia. Every half-blind, clumsy, brazenly improper, artistic bit of her. He probably had from the beginning.
After she left him without allowing him to explain, something that infuriated Ambrose even though he knew the fault was his, his temper had slowly faded. Barely hours after the Averell coach had rolled away, Ambrose was left with an enormous hollow feeling in his chest. A gnawing emptiness that would not be assuaged. The very worst sort of hunger. He’d always be starving without Theodosia.
Ambrose had shut the drawing room the very day she’d left, threatening Rolfe with bodily harm if anyone so much as dared step inside.
Rolfe, to his credit, hadn’t so much as flinched at the threat.
Ambrose, to his everlasting shame, couldn’t allow anyone else to see what Theo had painted for him. At the very corner, tucked near the windows, was the outline of a man and his son. Watching the stars together outside Greenbriar. A message meant for Ambrose alone.
And I let her leave.
A small growl left him. He sat down on one of the stone steps and took the bottle of wine he’d brought with him, refilling his glass.
Jacinda had been devastated by Theo’s departure. She had only recently started speaking to Ambrose again, and when she did, it was not without censure.
‘What did you do?’Her delicate frame had shaken with unshed tears once she’d found out Theodosia was gone, pushing away any attempts by Ambrose to explain himself.
A hand crawled across his chest, pressing a palm against his heart. He was surprised the bloody thing was still beating.
Ambrose wore himself out to the point of exhaustion every day, traveling among his tenants and addressing their concerns, trying not to think or feel. He tried to focus on his family being made whole again, taking back everything Murphy had taken from his father. Meeting with Barnaby in Warwick to talk about the textile mills he no longer cared about. Watching as crates of books arrived for Jacinda and then seeing his sister burst into tears at the sight. Eating the dishes carefully prepared by Mrs. Dottie, barely tasting the food.
A shame really. Mrs. Dottie was an excellent cook.
His uncle, thankfully, kept to himself after Ambrose tossed him a small bag of coins. He hadn’t seen Erasmus in days and idly wondered if he’d drowned in the pond.
Ambrose would check tomorrow.
“Hell.” Draining his glass again, he resolved to go after Theodosia. Control his temper and swallow his pride in regard to her brother. Apologize to the entire family including that fucking butler who hated him.
What mattered most to him was Theodosia. First, last, and always.
* * *
Theo nearly jumpedout of her skin as the coach finally pulled up in front of Greenbriar. Briefly, she took in the freshly painted front door. The two pots full of bright red flowers which stood on either side in welcome. Exactly as she’d instructed.
I must remember to thank Rolfe.
Coates had barely opened the door when Theo leapt out. She marched up to the door with purpose as Rolfe opened it. Surprise showed on his stoic features.
“Lady Haven.”
“In the flesh. Where is Lord Haven?”
Rolfe took her cloak and kept pace beside her. “I’m not certain, my lady.”
“Have you lost my husband, Rolfe?”
“No, my lady. But Lord Haven...wanders in the evenings. Mostly no further than the terrace, where he takes a nightcap.”
“Wonderful. Coates and Stitch are outside. Have you seen Lord Erasmus?”
“No, my lady.”
Well, that at least was good news. Still, Theo marched into the drawing room and went right to the sideboard. Scotch, the kind Haven favored, sat next to a bottle of expensive French brandy. The brandy told Theo that at the very least, Erasmus hadn’t been here long enough to steal it. Perhaps she’d beaten him to Greenbriar. Her hand grabbed the brandy bottle by the neck.
