Rose was always the brave one.He saw Harriet’s jaw clench and kept speaking, words pouring from him. “When I was three and twenty and returned from my tour, Rose showed me that painting, she told me she had something to tell me. And I… I told her I would speak to her later. I brushed her aside thinking that it could wait. Rose always had something important to say, caught in some flight of fancy. She was wild and free. My father hated it, and he punished us both whenever he thought she was being a corrupting influence. I told myself it was nothing truly important.
Theodore remembered Rose’s panicked eyes, the look that still haunted his dreams. “When my father told me that Rose had been sent to the continent to continue her education. I was glad at first – I knew she had longed to study art with some of the master’s in France. I was surprised Father had agreed, he had always shown resistance to the idea. I trusted him. My letters from Rose had become increasingly sparse over the years, so when I did not hear from her, I was not surprised.”
I thought it was my fault, that she had tired of me.He could not bring himself to say it aloud. “Years passed and I learned to stop asking after Rose. My father died, I inherited the duchy, and without him there, I stopped worrying so much about propriety and order. Then a year into my tenure, I found the letters.”
Anger surged within him and he felt his eyes darken. Every one of his muscles shifted as though he were a panther preparing to pounce. To his surprise, Harriet did not recoil from him, she stayed where she was, sadness filling her eyes.
“So many letters, all unopened and unread. I opened the most recent one, which was an entreaty to meet her and her daughter.” He winced. “As was the previous letter, and the one before that. I left that night, and after several days travel found her at a workhouse in Abingdon.” His voice caught on a lump in his throat, anger fading as the smell of the place boiled up in his mind. “She was little more than skin and bones, but as soon as she saw me, her eyes lit up.”
You came.He could hear her weary voice in his head, the hope that had broken his heart into thousands of pieces.I knew you would.
Harriet had let out a gasp, and he saw her eyes fill with tears as her free hand covered her mouth. His hand slipped from her grasp as he moved away from her, gritting his teeth.
“She told me the truth of things. A rake had forced himself upon her, she had become pregnant and when she asked our father for his help, he shunned her.” Theodore shook as the rage welled up within him. “He blamedherfor it. He sent her away with nothing but the clothes on her back and then made up a story to hide the scandal. She needed him and he abandoned her.”
“But it was not her fault! And even if she had fallen pregnant of her own volition, there are ways to hide such things.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harriet wrap her arms around herself.
“By the time I found her, it was too late. She had spent most of her time in workhouses, and though I paid for the finest doctors money could buy, they could not save her. I carried her fromthat place, took her to the family cottage in the Peak district. It had always been her favorite place, and it was not far away.” His words were clipped with pain and anger as he remembered how weightless his sister had felt in his arms and the way he had feared that the slightest breath would break her bones.
“I stayed by her side until she died; I did what I could to make her comfortable in those last few days.” He closed his eyes as he remembered the wet gurgle of her dying moments. “Phoebe saw everything, though I tried to keep her from it. She would not be parted from her mother’s side. Rose asked me to care for her daughter, and I agreed. I failed her once. I refused to fail her again.”
“You did not fail.” He sensed Harriet move close to him.
He opened his eyes. “I did. I understand the importance of order now, of control. I had to keep her daughter safe, had to make sure she could live the life her mother had been robbed of. It is the least I can do.”
“None of this is your fault.” Harriet held up two fingers and shook her head emphatically. “Only two men are to blame, and neither of them are here.”
“My father was a monster.”And so am I.He did not realize he had spoken the last aloud until Harriet said, “No. You are not.” Harriet’s voice would brook no argument.
He took a step towards him. “I am. You do not know what I have done.”
She tilted her chin up, her lip trembling. “Then tell me.”
This will show you the truth.He nodded slowly, rolling his shoulders back and towering over her. “I found the man who did this to her, and I took everything from him: his land, his titles, his wealth. It was retribution, and I enjoyed every moment of it.”
“That does not make you monstrous. It makes you human. If anyone hurt the people I loved, I would hunt them to the ends of the Earth and make them pay.” Harriet closed the distance between them, putting a hand on his chest, her cheeks rosy with defiance. “You did not do anything wrong, Theodore. Bad men made evil choices; choices that are so wholly foreign to the man you are that it would not occur to you that someone could make them.”
“Rose could still be here. Phoebe would not be an orphan. She would have a family.” He could not bring himself to shirk away from her touch.
“She has a family.” Harriet insisted. “She has me, and she has you. It is clear you love her deeply; it is a matter of showing it to her.”
“And what if I cannot?” His voice was little more than a hoarse whisper as his heart beat slowly against her hand.
“I know you can.” She smiled at him. “I saw you with the horses, I have seen you show kindness and care.”
“Are you saying I should treat her like a horse?” Theodore raised his eyebrows, the corner of his mouth shifting upwards.
“Not quite.” Harriet laughed softly, shaking her head and moving a little away from him; he felt the absence of her hand at once and fought not to go to her. “Though I suppose a little. Move slowly, give her time and stay on her level. It is rather intimidating constantly having to look up to someone. Be kind to her, compliment her when she has done well.”
“I do not know how.” Iron filled his veins as he thought of how Phoebe skittered away from him, the way she would not look at him.
Rose had done the same, at least before she was sent away.And yet, she still wanted you in her life.
“Then we shall have to practice.” Harriet tapped a finger against her lips thoughtfully, jerking him back to the present. “Do not focus on what is wrong, but rather what is good.”
“But if you only compliment, how will anyone improve?” Theodore folded his arms across his chest.
Harriet gave him a flat look, half exasperated and half amused. “She is a child, not your staff. If you want her to excel, you must bolster her confidence. Point out what she is doing well. Encourage her to use those traits to improve.”
