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He frowned. Why had he started this? They’d been talking about corsets and food. Why was he spoiling the evening by bringing the past up again, telling her things he’d never told anyone, even Arthur?
‘After my mother died, my father let me do whatever I wanted. He put all the pressure on Arthur and left me alone.’
‘Didn’t it make you happy to do whatever you wanted?’
‘For a while—or maybe not even that. I thought it did, but...there was always something missing.’
‘Maybe you wanted some of your father’s attention, too?’
He rubbed a hand over his face. ‘Maybe, though I would never have admitted as much back then, not to myself or him. I resented him too much. I blamed him for her death, you see. I was only eleven, but even at that age I knew there had been something strained between my parents. She was so full of love and he... In any case, I knew he hadn’t made her happy. I thought that if he’d loved her then maybe she wouldn’t have left us, that maybe she would have wanted to stay. I know it sounds ridiculous, but there’s a difference between knowing something in your head and in your heart.’
‘Did he know that you blamed him?’
He grimaced. ‘Subtlety was never my strong suit. Not that we saw each other very often. He just shut himself up in his study and we never spoke of it. We rarely spoke at all, and when we did, we argued. It’s strange, but in some ways, I suppose I behaved just like your father.’
Her face froze. ‘What do you mean?’
‘He blamed you for your mother’s death. I blamed my father.’
‘You were just a boy.’
‘I still took my grief out on someone who didn’t deserve it.’
‘True, but you loved him. You said so when you gave me my first tour of the house.’
‘So I did.’ Though the fact that she remembered took him by surprise.
‘Then maybe love and hate aren’t so far apart after all.’ Her brow creased thoughtfully. ‘If you could love him despite blaming him, then maybe my father loved me, too. I’ve always assumed that he didn’t, that love and resentment couldn’t go hand in hand, but maybe I was wrong. In which case, maybe he really did think he was protecting me from the world.’
‘Maybe he was frightened of losing you as well as your mother.’
‘So many maybes...’ She smiled sadly. ‘I never spoke to him about any of them either. Maybe I ought to have tried arguing back once in a while.’
‘Maybe I should have tried doing what I was told.’
‘Maybe again.’ She sat up straighter. ‘I know that my father resented me, but now I’d prefer to believe that he loved me as well. It would make it all seem less of a waste.’
‘Can you forgive him for blaming you?’
‘Yes.’ She didn’t hesitate. ‘I think that his heart was genuinely broken by my mother’s death. I don’t agree with what he did, but I can understand why he did it. Can you forgive your father?’
‘What is there to forgive? He didn’t love my mother, but he didn’t kill her.’
‘He could have reached out to you.’
‘I don’t think he was capable of that. I was the one who caused the rift between us.’
‘Is that why you were so wild, to get back at him?’
‘That would be the easy answer, though I suppose it was a kind of revenge. The family name meant a lot to my father so I set out to sully it. It was selfish and adolescent of me, but I wanted to embarrass him. I was always the wildest of my friends, the risk-taker. Poor Arthur was left to be the good one, the dutiful son, the one who bore all the pressure while I simply enjoyed myself. It was no wonder he snapped eventually. It took me a long time to understand that my behaviour was hurting more people than just my father. I was hurting everyone around me, but by the time I realised, it was too late. I acted like an immature boy for too long. I only really grew up eight months ago, just when it was too late to put anything right. I failed Arthur when he needed me. Everything that went wrong in my family was my fault.’ He met her gaze across the table. ‘You’re still finding out who you are, Violet, but I already know who I am—a worthless reprobate, just like my father said.’
‘No.’ Her voice sounded surprisingly firm. ‘What happened to your father and brother was tragic, but they were responsible for their own lives. You can’t blame yourself for everything that happened.’
He arched an eyebrow. If only it were so easy... If only there were some way to redeem himself... If only that was all there was to forgive...
‘You have to move on, Lance.’
He smiled at her optimism. ‘And how do you propose I do that?’
