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“She did. He asked to marry her—but she said no.”
“I’m sure a lot of men want to marry her.”
“And I want no part in it.”
She gave me a pitiful smile. “You always told me you would raise your daughters like your sons.”
“And I have.”
“Not in this category. You don’t care about Atticus’s personal life. You shouldn’t be disturbed by hers.”
“Easier said than done.”
“Did I ever interfere in yours?”
I directed my gaze on her and gave her a cold stare.
“Oh, that’s right…I did.”
My glare softened into a partial smile.
“But that was different,” she said. “How’s Atticus?”
“He’s a good man. I’m proud to call him my son.”
“But you seem more invested in Harlow.”
“I don’t have a favorite.”
“All parents have a favorite, Huntley. And we both know which son is mine.”
I held her gaze. “I love my children equally. The only reason I’m more invested in Harlow is because she looks like my wife…and I love my wife deeply. I would protect her with my life, so it’s hard not to feel that way toward Harlow. You succeed as a parent when your children no longer need you, but it’s hard to imagine a time when my little girl doesn’t need me anymore.”
“She doesn’t need you now, Huntley. If you’ve selected her for the crown, that means you believe she can not only take care of herself, but all the Kingdoms. It’s the greatest compliment you could give her.”
I looked out the window, seeing the darkness and the torches beyond. “What happened between Ian and Avice?” I turned back to her to meet her gaze. “My wife would be running into my arms the second I returned from my travels. I’ve seen no sign of his wife or his daughter since we’ve set foot in HeartHolme.”
My mother stared at me for a long time, treating the conversation with the formality of diplomacy. “They’ve been separated awhile now.”
I didn’t react, but I felt the tightness between my ribs. I treated Avice with the same affection that Ian treated Ivory, welcoming her as a sister rather than an in-law, but the pain came on my brother’s behalf. I knew how much he loved her, and whatever the reason for their separation, it broke him.
“She’s asked for a divorce more than once.”
“And you’ve denied it?”
“I told her I would consider it, but I’m only stalling to give Ian a chance to make this right.”
“So, he’s in the wrong?”
My mother held my stare. “This is his tale, not mine.”
* * *
I joined him at the pub, sitting in the chair across from him at a table in the corner. I wore my heavy coat on top of my armor, back to the old attire of my youth, when I’d fallen in love with the woman who would become my wife.
He already had a beer ready for me. “They have pot roast tonight.”
“Haven’t had that in a long time.”
