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But this time, apparently, her mind was not on marriage. She set her cup down, and, just when he thought she was ready to change the subject, she said, “But he is not your father.”
He paused, his own teacup halfway to his mouth. “I beg your pardon.”
“Anthony. He is not your father.”
“Yes?” he said slowly, because really, what could possibly be her point?
“He is your brother,” she continued. “As are Benedict and Colin, and when you were small—oh, how you wished to be a part of their affairs.”
Gregory held himself very still.
“But of course they were not interested in bringing you along, and really, who can blame them?”
“Who indeed?” he murmured tightly.
“Oh, do not take offense, Gregory,” his mother said, turning to him with an expression that was a little bit contrite and little bit impatient. “They were wonderful brothers, and truly, very patient most of the time.”
“Most of the time?”
“Some of the time,” she amended. “But you were so much smaller than they were. There simply wasn’t much in common for you to do. And then when you grew older, well . . .”
Her words trailed off, and she sighed. Gregory leaned forward. “Well?” he prompted.
“Oh, it’s nothing.”
“Mother.”
“Very well,” she said, and he knew right then and there that she knew exactly what she was saying, and that any sighs and lingering words were entirely for effect.
“I think that you think you must prove yourself to them,” Violet said.
He regarded her with surprise. “Don’t I?”
His mother’s lips parted, but she made no sound for several seconds. “No,” she finally said. “Why would you think you would?”
What a silly question. It was because— It was because—
“It’s not the sort of thing one can easily put into words,” he muttered.
“Really?” She sipped at her tea.
“I must say, that was not the sort of reaction I had anticipated.”
Gregory felt his jaw clench. “What, precisely, did you anticipate?”
“Precisely?” She looked up at him with just enough humor in her eyes to completely irritate him. “I’m not certain that I can be precise, but I suppose I had expected you to deny it.”
“Just because I do not wish it to be the case does not render it untrue,” he said with a deliberately casual shrug.
“Your brothers respect you,” Violet said.
“I did not say they do not.”
“They recognize that you are your own man.”
That, Gregory thought, was not precisely true.
“It is not a sign of weakness to ask for help,” Violet continued.
