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Mother gave him a curious look, but nodded and left at his request. Thomas turned once more to his study.
It occurred to him that, at long last, he’d begun internally referring to the space as his study, rather than Father’s.
That thought was not one he wanted to dwell upon presently, however. Instead, Thomas went to the desk and sat in the chair. He began quickly drafting a letter before he could talk himself out of it.
It wasn’t a request for reconnection. It wasn’t a message of sympathy, or forgiveness, or understanding. It was simply a letter of notice—informing its recipient that Thomas and Lady Evelina were to wed, along with the date of the ceremony. It was, by obvious restrictions, not an invitation.
At the bottom, Thomas hesitated, then scrawled out a messy signature. There was no warm salutation at the top of the letter, nor fond goodbye at the end. Thomas re-read what he’d written, then sighed, and put it in an envelope.
Earlier that same week, Gerard had written him from prison, where the courts had decided he would remain the rest of his life. His letter had been neither apologetic nor warm. It had simply informed Thomas with rote information what his first week as a prisoner had been like.
Thomas was not sure what his brother was hoping to gain from creating some sort of correspondence, and Thomas was even less certain what he was doing by responding.
But he did not want to begin this new life with Lady Evelina so full of hatred and bitterness. If Gerard wanted to exchange facts by letter, then Thomas would oblige.
He had little hope that things between them could change. And perhaps it was unhealthy to pursue this. But Thomas was more of an idealist than he’d originally thought.
Of one thing he was certain: writing back is what his father would have done, regardless of the pain it caused him.
Thomas pocketed the letter and left the study. Perhaps he was not so incapable of filling his father’s shoes after all.
