What about what I want?He heard Harriet’s words in his mind and shook his head, trying to force them from it. Theodore said nothing.
“Even if you believe that your father became a tyrant when your mother died, you can hardly think you will do the same. You did not become that man when Rose passed. You are not some monster.” Percival’s shrugged. “Your father was cruel, and unkind. You are nothing like him. I have seen you with Phoebe. You treat her like your own daughter.”
Theodore let out a bitter laugh. “Until Harriet arrived, I was failing at that too. Or have you forgotten why I asked her to marry me in the first place?”
Percival got to his feet, rolling out his shoulders as he shook his head. “Phoebe is not the only one who has changed since your wife joined you. You do not have to keep letting fear control you, Irondale. You do not have to let this hold you back.”
“Control is what will keep me safe.” Theodore spat.
Percival reached towards him, but Theodore stepped backwards. “It will not bring her back.”
Theodore stiffened, his hands were balled so tightly into fists that his arms were shaking. “She does not want to come back.”
“I am not talking about the Duchess.” Percival shook his head.
“I think you should leave.” Theodore gestured towards the door. “Now, Wright.”
Percival opened his mouth as though to argue, but something in Theodore’s expression must have stopped him. Instead, his friend let out a long sigh. “Very well. If you are determined to be a stubborn fool, then I cannot stop you.”
“It is for the best.” Theodore murmured.
“I do not think either of us believe that.” Percival turned away from Theodore and left the room.
Theodore slumped into his armchair, and closed his eyes. He heard the sound of footsteps, and a moment later, felt a small tug on his shirt sleeve.
“Uncle?” It was Phoebe.
His eyes flew open, and he straightened at once. “Phoebe?”
She was standing in front of him, her small face pinched with concern. Her blue eyes were fixed on his, and she did not move away from him as he spoke.
“Is something the matter?” Theodore looked around, but he saw no sign of anyone else. “Do you need something?”
Phoebe shook her head, and to his surprise, moved even closer to him. Gently, she reached towards his chest, her tiny fingers coming to rest just above his heart.
“It hurts?” She tilted her head towards him making it a question.
The simple gesture took him a moment to understand. He blinked slowly, his mind sluggish even as his heart stirred feebly at her touch. He moved his head, nodding at her, unable to find the words.
Phoebe gave him a small, sad smile that broke his heart into a million tiny pieces. “Me too.”
He wanted to tell her that he was sorry, that he had not meant to ruin things for her, but before he could, she gingerly, cautiously pulled herself up into his lap.
He froze, but she did not retreat. She bit her lip, eyes full of determination. He felt her tiny arms wrap around his neck, and closed his eyes. He hugged her back, his hands gentle as he pulled his niece close. He was not sure how long she hugged him but with each moment, he felt the walls around his heart break.
When they finally broke apart, Phoebe did not shift off his lap. She leaned against him, her legs kicking out gently as she tapped her finger against her lips. Her presence was a comforting balm, and Theodore could not quite believe that any of this was real.
“Your mother used to do that too, especially if she was thinking quite hard,” Theodore said, feeling a prickle of guilt spread through him as he thought of Rose.
Phoebe perked up. “Really?”
“Yes.” He gestured to her face. “And you two make the same face when you draw. And you laugh like her too. You even hold your knife and fork the same way.”
“Sometimes I get scared I’ll forget her.” Phoebe’s lip trembled, but she kept speaking, her voice so soft he could barely hear her over the thud of his heart.
“Your mother will always be a part of you, you might forget bits, but she will always live on.” Theodore pressed a gentle finger to his niece’s heart. “And… if you want, we can talk of her more often. I may be able to find some portraits of her if you like. People live on in their family, in the stories and the memories they leave behind.”
“That’s what Auntie said.” Phoebe’s eyes widened, and for a moment, she looked uncertain, but when Theodore said nothing, she continued. “I think Mama would like her.”
