Page 30 of Daring with a Duke (The Jennings Family #2)

30

Ash

A sh was wrong. The day did the opposite of looking up.

“That was a terrible shot, Felicity,” Pandora said from where she sat on a bale of hay, booted foot bouncing while she basked in her healthy lead at their make-shift archery competition. Her mouth pursed, and her blonde brows scrunched together. “Perhaps your poor performance is on account of your nightmares.”

Felicity turned, dropping the bow to her side, and tilted her head at Pandora. “Nightmares?”

Pandora’s innocent blue irises shone with sympathy, and she nodded. “I heard noises coming from your room last night. Screams and moans.” Her lips tilted in a commiserating smile. “Night terrors are the worst .”

Ash’s eyes flew wide, and his jaw went slack. Dear fucking Lord. Someone please drown him in the English Channel.

His son went stone-rigid next to him.

Shite, shite, shite.

Felicity’s identical shocked gaze shot to Ash, her cheeks blooming a crimson with alarming alacrity. He took a breath and glanced at his son. Who looked hurt .

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

A cold sweat broke out on his neck. He had never intended for Colborn to find out. Even if his son had admitted to not having legitimate feelings for Felicity, Ash had wanted to keep his one night with Felicity between himself and Felicity. He had no desire to rub anything in his son’s face. No desire to hurt his son. Any more than he already had.

This is what happens when you are selfish, Ash.

Colborn’s vacant muttered words choked Ash with shame. “Wow, Father. You couldn’t even wait a full day, could you?”

“Colborn…”

But his son was already walking away, and Ash was left watching Colborn’s departing back.

He wanted to point out that Colborn had slept with countless women while he was betrothed to Felicity. Ash had only slept with her after the betrothal was called off . But that was petty and juvenile and something his son probably would have used as an argument if he were in Ash’s shoes right now. Bugger me to hell.

A soft pressure settled on his arm. He looked up to meet pinched slim brows and an amber gaze glinting with worry. “Go to him, Ash.”

He slowly dusted his knuckles over Felicity’s still pink cheeks before he could stop himself. God, it was impossible for him to not touch her while in her presence, not now that the tips of his fingers knew the gift that was her skin.

He nodded. “You and Pandora will be well here?” He was sure Felicity would come up with some explanation for Pandora—perhaps just agree to the nightmares. At present, life certainly resembled a nightmare.

She dipped her chin and gave him an encouraging shove, and he headed after his retreating son.

His son was bloody fast. And determined to get away from Ash. But Ash was more determined to get to his son. Things were going to change between them going forward. They were going to spend time together, talk through problems. He winced. Ash hadn’t planned for that first problem to be Colborn finding out his father had shagged his ex-fiancé.

He let his head drop back and released a strangled groan . Fuuuck!

The worst part was. He didn’t regret it. As much as the guilt leeched into his skin, slowly eating away at him. He couldn’t regret being with Felicity. He fisted his waistcoat above his heart. She’d burrowed herself in there, a permanent tenant. And he knew, even after she was gone, the years would weather his body, age would erode his mind, but nothing would ever diminish the love he held for her.

He took the steps leading to the parapet walk two at a time, his son’s form disappearing as he ascended the cylindrical staircase. Breath huffing, Ash stepped through the archway to the roof, his gaze landing on Colborn standing in the center of the walk that connected the towers of the castle.

He walked over, and though his bootsteps echoed around them, Colborn refused to look at him. Ash settled next to his son, who stared out across the Devonford lands, hands gripping the stone wall with blanched knuckles.

Ash gazed out over his estate and waited, granting Colborn the time he needed, so he might speak once he was ready. He tried to distract himself by focusing on the view: The rolling green hills, the fresh foliage bursting forth with spring’s new growth, the River Arun peeking through the woods.

But the silence enveloped him as if submerged in the far-off river’s waters—suffocating. “Go ahead,” Ash said. “Yell at me. Rage at me. I deserve it, Colborn.”

Colborn shook his head, though he remained looking out across the expansive estate. Colborn’s jaw worked, and Ash leaned forward, ready to hear the words. Multiple times, he was convinced his son would finally speak only to be proven wrong.

“I don’t even know why I’m mad,” his son finally burst out. He slammed his fist on the eroded stone wall’s surface, a few loose fragments skittering across the surface. “I already admitted to not truly caring for Felicity in that way.” He scowled at his fist, his voice tight. “I knew you kissed her before, and I shouldn’t be surprised—I’m not surprised—that you two…” He opened his mouth and paused, seemed to think better of it and shut his mouth.

“What?” Ash prodded.

“My pride is hurt,” he managed to grit out, each word dragged from him, slow and seemingly painful. “She prefers you over me. And it makes me so bloody angry.”

He finally glanced at Ash, nostrils flaring, lips pressed in a white line. “Felicity knows me well, which is why her plan for revenge was perfect. She knew my vanity wouldn’t be able to handle that fact.” He blew out a breath and quickly added, “Even if the punishment is warranted for the way I treated her.”

Ash scrubbed a hand over his face and rubbed his chin. Colborn’s behavior had been atrocious. But an eye for an eye was not what Ash had in mind to teach his son a lesson.

“It was not meant to be a punishment for you, Colborn. It was between me and Felicity, and that’s it. And it’s not happening again.”

Colborn scoffed and leaned back, his arms going taut as he used the stone wall for leverage. “I’m sure Felicity will love that.” He screwed up his face and lowered his voice. “Apologies, Felicity, I can’t tup you any longer because my philandering son’s feelings are hurt.” He let out a laugh that held more disgust than any laugh ever should. “First, I try to control who she sleeps with when we’re betrothed, and I succeed in doing so even afterward.”

“That’s not the reason why. I see what you mean with your vanity, though.”

Colborn glanced at him, confusion clouding his dark blue eyes.

“The reason things cannot continue between me and Felicity has nothing to do with you,” he said patiently. “Not everything is about you—”

“Nothing has ever been about me.”

Ash froze at his son’s hollow words. At the sentiment, those words echoed from his and Colborn’s discussion in Ash’s study. All he had wanted was to keep Colborn safe from the consequences of the scrapes Colborn landed himself in. They were actions Ash took to protect his son. Instead, he’d inflicted a similar pain on his son that he himself suffered.

“Colborn.”

His son’s jaw ticked.

“Look at me.”

Colborn’s chest rose and fell and then he slowly slid his gaze to meet Ash’s.

Ash went to speak, but the words wouldn’t form past the lump in his throat. He swallowed thickly and tried again. “I have not once acted as a father ought with you or Jacob. But it has never been because I don’t love you. My failings as a father hold no bearing on your worth. On your importance to me, to this family.”

Colborn’s gaze dropped to his fingers flexing on the stone wall.

Silence wrapped itself around them.

“I suppose only time will tell,” his son finally whispered. Colborn cleared his throat and whatever torment hid in the depths of his eyes. “So, if I’m not the reason, why are you sending Felicity away?”

Ash blew out a breath and stared out at the cloud-covered English sky. “I cannot keep her here for my own selfish pleasure. She is unmarried, which means she needs to find a suitable husband.”

Colborn studied him, seconds passing by like minutes. “I know you are principled and”—he waved a hand absently—“honorable and all that, but are you daft?”

Ash double-blinked. Was he daft? He opened his mouth—

“In what world are you not a suitable husband?” his son said, his forehead a series of incredulous lines. “You’re a bloody duke. If she was going to marry me, a future duke, wouldn’t the current duke be a better match?”

Ash looked heavenward. “Does everyone around here forget how old I am?”

“Yes, you’re a rickety old cove. However did you chase after me and make it to the top of the castle without your cane?”

Ash blew out an annoyed breath. He wasn’t on his deathbed, but there were eighteen years between him and Felicity. Eighteen .

“I’ve tupped plenty of women older than you,” Colborn added.

Ash’s eyes widened, and his son grinned.

“You heard Felicity’s tirade in the library about me sticking my prick in every woman in London. That might be an exaggeration, but if I discriminated by age, I’d have so many fewer options, especially considering I have some principles and avoid unmarried ladies.” He paused, caught Ash’s gaze, and winked. “Besides, older ladies can be downright feral .”

Dear God. Ash grimaced. “I don’t need to know these things.” Ash was happy to never hear any details of his son’s sexual escapades. He read enough in the gossip columns. “Though I’m happy you have a principle. I wouldn’t say some, as right now I think it’s only the one.”

Colborn grinned and gently bumped into Ash’s shoulder. A subtle warmth slid its way into Ash’s chest. Camaraderie with his son. It was a new feeling. A nice feeling. Odd that, out of all conversations, it was happening during this one.

“Why do you do it?” Ash asked, something about the moment of connection loosening his tongue and letting the question he’d always wondered escape. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen your name listed in the scandal sheets with the same woman more than a handful of times before it lists you with someone new.” Ash hesitated, but he wanted to know. Wanted to better understand his son. “Is it not a lonely existence for you?” he asked quietly. “You had a future with someone like Felicity, and yet recklessly cast it away. Even now, you are…indifferent.”

Colborn’s smile dimmed and then completely fell away. “I couldn’t tell you, Father.” He stared out at the Devonford lands, eyes unfocused. Lost. “I truly couldn’t tell you.”

Ash wouldn’t push him, but he hoped some time away focusing on things other than empty encounters would allow his son the opportunity to figure it out.

He reached over and squeezed his son’s shoulder, then rested his elbows on the stone wall and looked out across the estate. Colborn’s shoulder brushed against his again, but this time his son didn’t move away, leaving the smallest amount of weight pressing into Ash.

They stood there in silence, and Ash pretended that just this once he was the father Colborn needed, that his son was using him to lean on.