court hearing.”
Julian’s face turned thunderous. “And you thought not to inform us? He’s my son.”
“Hold in your anger and hear me out,” Garrett replied. “Edwin suggested that we not descend on Aidan. Once I arrived and found where he had been holed up for the past several months, I agreed with Edwin’s assessment.”
Garrett, not one for long, drawn-out conversation, proceeded to paint a horror-filled narrative of invading a St. Giles rookery in the early morning and finding Aidan with a group of thieves, prostitutes, and other deviants in a filthy doss-house. How, along with Edwin’s men and a few hired toughs, they had snatched him up and made their escape.
To Hertfordshire, of all places. As he described the clinic and the Welsh doctor who ran it, Julian’s face crumbled and all anger vanished. “Opium? Gin? How…how did he look?”
“Ghastly.” Garrett answered in a quiet voice. “He’s lost weight; the doctor claimed that it could be two stone or more. His skin is an unhealthy gray shade. He’s malnourished, dehydrated, and sick to his very core.”
Oliver’s insides twisted at the news, but in shrewdly watching Garrett he had the feeling that there was more to Aidan’s injuries than his younger son let on.
“It will take months for him to recover, weeks to come out of the worst of the withdrawal. And before you demand that we head to Hertfordshire, Dr. Bevan recommended we all stay well clear until Aidan wishes to see us. The doctor said that his recovery will move ahead at a more rapid pace if family is not around to add to his guilt and shame.”
“I would never admonish Aidan, not in this condition. He’s ill,” Julian said, his voice shaking.
“Yes, precisely. He is ill. The doctor suggested that we not blame ourselves for how low Aidan has sunk,” Garrett replied.
“And how does this damned doctor propose we do it?” Julian snapped. “All I did was reprimand and lecture him. It never even crossed my mind that his behavior was a call for help.”
Oliver stood and laid a hand on his oldest son’s shoulder. “None of us recognized the signs. Why would we? He was always a little wild. Never liked being told what to do. Bucking us at every turn. I thought him merely rebellious, as many young heirs are. I believed that he would grow out of it. There is enough blame to go around, but I agree that it is best we avoid such self-indulgence.”
Julian glanced at Garrett. “I am his father. You should have told me. I should have been there when you extracted him. I will not forget this.”
“Julian,” Oliver said. “Enough. I know you are upset…”
“Upset? Try devastated. I have failed my son. Failed as a parent,” Julian barked.
“You are not thinking clearly,” Oliver replied, his voice gentle. “Garrett did as Edwin instructed, and hearing the circumstances, it was for the best. Think how distressed Aidan would have been if you had seen him in such a condition. It would not help his recovery. I truly believe this.” He squeezed Julian’s shoulder. “We wait for word. The doctor will be keeping us apprised?”
Garrett nodded. “Regular updates. He promised.”
“Julian, you are the farthest thing from a failure as a parent. When Fiona died, when the twins were four years old, I observed how you bravely hid your grief from them and focused all your attention and love on them. Instilled in them a sense of honor, of service to one’s fellow man, and deep down, I believe Aidan embodies all that and more. He will prove it to you someday soon; I know it in my heart.” Oliver gave his son’s shoulder another affectionate squeeze.
Because of the many tragedies in their lives, the Wollstonecraft men shared an unshakeable and solid bond. Much like soldiers in a field of battle. They were trusted allies, confidants, brothers-in-arms, bound by the curse but more importantly by blood and mutual respect. They were close friends, and they supported each other no matter the crisis. More than anything, however, love cemented the connection. Enriched it. Enhanced it. Hearing of Aidan’s fate and witnessing Julian’s anguish reminded Oliver of how devoted they were to each other.
Julian buried his face in his hands, his shoulders heaving. Good God, he was crying. Oliver’s heart twisted with pain at seeing his son’s desolate grief. Oliver was about to comfort him when Gordon, the footman, appeared at the door.
“Master Garrett, Mrs. Eaton has arrived.”
Alberta Eaton stepped into the room, her gaze falling to Julian. “Tensbridge.” Without hesitating, she ran to his side, fell to her knees, and embraced him. Julian held her close, his face buried in her neck. She smoothed his hair, whispering what Oliver supposed was words of comfort, though he could not make them out.
Garrett took Oliver’s elbow and they both left them alone. Gordon closed the door and resumed his position in the hallway.
“Very shrewd, Garrett. For a man who claims women are nothing but a complication in a man’s life, you’ve showed acute instincts. Well done,” Oliver said, proud of the way his younger son handled this difficult situation.
They strolled toward Oliver’s study. “It’s obvious he has a tendre for her. And since I’ve been helping with her renovations, I’ve come to know her. I believe that she is what Julian needs at this moment.”
Oliver arched an eyebrow. “And the curse?”
“Oh, I still believe in it, and Julian would be wise to avoid anything long term.”
A short bark of laughter left Oliver’s throat. “By God, you are as stubborn as your mother ever was. Have you even entertained the possibility that you are wrong about it all?”
Garrett shook his head. “Never. The proof is clear, as well you know, Da.”
Oliver frowned. He didn’t like being reminded that he had suffered more losses than any man in the family. But a part of him still hoped there was a way to end the blasted curse.
“Riordan wouldn’t listen, and if Julian wants to take another chance at possible tragedy, that’s his decision,” Garrett continued. “I plan on staying clear of any emotional or romantic attachments.”
Oliver nearly snorted aloud in disbelief. Yes, his son was obstinate and unmovable on this subject. This was not the life that he had wished for Garrett, or for any of them for that matter. His youngest son had lots of love to give, like his late mother. What a complete shame to waste it. Only an extraordinary woman would be able to pull down the persistent and protective wall Garrett had constructed around his heart.
Chapter 4
Ten days later
“Megan, don’t sulk. It doesn’t become you,” Abbie admonished gently.
Her daughter’s lips pursed further. “How else am I to feel considering what you’ve told me? I should have stayed at school. Never should have agreed to this trip.”
Megan had been furious for days, the atmosphere between them chilly and fractious. Abbie would have to endure hours of watching her daughter pout. But she could hardly blame the girl considering the shocking news that she’d relayed to her.
The carriage lurched in a deep rut on the road,
