Page 18 of Love Thy Enemy (The Vaughns #4)

A rriving at what used to be Edward and Joanna’s entry door, Gregory slipped in and climbed the stairs that led to their home above the draper’s shop and was quickly ushered in by the maid-of-all-work.

Despite the rooms retaining the same configuration as when their former master and mistress had lived here, Mother had transformed the parlor into something that felt altogether new.

The familiar wall hangings and decorations from Hawthorne House had found a home here, nestled along the walls and shelves.

But Gregory’s attention was on the gentleman sitting alone on the sofa beside the window. A cane was propped up within reaching distance, and Father’s attention was fixed ahead, though he looked at nothing.

“Gregory?” asked Father, his face turning toward the noise as his eyes searched about, though they could not see him.

“It’s me,” he confirmed, stepping around the armchair to sit on the sofa beside his father. “I was at Edward’s for the afternoon, but heard that you had chosen to sit here, alone, rather than spend time with your family.”

A slight smile twisted the corner of Father’s lips, though there was nothing amused about the expression. “I thought your mother deserved an afternoon on her own without an invalid demanding her attention.”

As Father couldn’t see his expression, Gregory felt free to show his disappointment with a frown, but before he could say a thing, the gentleman waved it away, giving a self-deprecating laugh.

“I apologize. It has been a difficult day, and I thought it would be best to keep my dark mood tucked away. Despite having years to acclimate to the growing darkness, I still find myself overwhelmed by it.”

“Everyone is allowed those sorts of days, Father. It is simply part of being human. But I wish you had been there, for you could give me some advice on how to refrain from causing irreparable damage to the children in my care.”

Father gave a considering hum. “‘Irreparable damage’ is inevitable. I am certain every child blames his fears and shortcomings on something his parents did. Each generation instills troubles for the subsequent ones.”

With a huff of laughter, Gregory settled into his seat and watched as the tension in Father’s shoulders eased. “And what damage did Grandfather and Grandmother do to you?”

For all that it had been a jest, Father’s tone was far too serious to be ignored. “They are good people, and I adore my parents, but they certainly left me with a few ghosts in my attic.”

Gregory’s brows rose at that, for he couldn’t imagine his father struggling in any fashion. Certainly, the blindness had caused its fair share of heartache and difficulties, but such was the nature of unforeseen circumstances. It wasn’t the same as what they were discussing.

“Now, what supposed damage have you done to those children?” asked Father, turning his face toward his son.

By even the greatest stretch of the imagination, Gregory wasn’t a gregarious sort.

That was Rodney’s forte. And Edward’s. Yet even the most insular of people required the occasional listening ear, and as this was the exact reason (or one of them) that he’d sought out his father, Gregory required no further prodding to explain the whole of the situation.

Beginning with Mrs. Stuart, of course. The lady hung over every conversation now. The silent thread that wove through their lives, whether they wished it or not.

Gregory didn’t bother to edit his words.

Giving his father a partial truth wasn’t helpful, but even he cringed a touch when divulging their last conversation.

Had he known the lady would be so sneaky and manipulative as to send her children presents, he wouldn’t have felt the slightest bit guilty—though he supposed that was untrue, for he felt it anew when he recalled the precise words he’d said to her.

“If they had a mother who loved them, I wouldn’t hesitate to allow her into their lives.”

Father winced. “Oh, that was badly done, son.”

“I am well aware of that,” said Gregory with a sigh. “The lady is so infuriating, but that doesn’t justify my poor behavior. It was true but uncalled for. Yet the more I learn of her, the more angry I become.”

With that, he pulled the letter out of his pocket. Why he had taken to carrying it with him, Gregory couldn’t say, but he read it to Father. There was nothing in it that couldn’t be shared with a gentleman of discretion such as Arthur Vaughn.

“Life continued in that fashion until I had a chance encounter with Tessa and her daughter. Eva favors me in looks so completely that one couldn’t deny that she was mine, though Tessa attempted to do just that.

Hiding her from me for the first two years of my daughter’s life wasn’t enough.

That jezebel wished to steal my own child from me. To keep me from my dearest Eva.”

Pointing to that section, Gregory straightened. “What sort of woman would keep such a secret for years? To separate a father from his child?”

Father’s brows rose. “Likely the same sort of woman who was afraid that the father would snatch the child away as he had the others.”

“You do not understand,” said Gregory, shaking his head. “Rodney separated them to protect the children.”

Turning again to the letter, he continued:

“Never have I witnessed such a heartless deceiver. In one breath, she claimed the child wasn’t mine.

The next, she claimed Eva was proof of her fidelity.

But neither was true. I do not know what possessed her to spin such lofty tales, but I have the evidence of my own eyes to prove her inconsistency in our marriage.

“At that moment, I knew my kindness and generosity would be my children’s undoing. There was no good to be had in allowing them near their mother. So, bundling up Eva and the rest, I fled Leeds and settled in Thornsby.”

Gregory turned his gaze to his father. “It wasn’t cruelty that made him do it. Rodney wanted to protect them from a poor influence.”

Nodding, Father considered that. “There are often two sides to every story—”

“Yes, but Mrs. Stuart admitted to stealing from Rodney,” said Gregory.

Father moved to reply, but he knew precisely what the gentleman was going to say, so he rushed to add, “And yes, people do change, but I hired a man to investigate her after their separation, and she was arrested for grand larceny less than a year ago. Mrs. Stuart is just as deceitful as ever. And she has no interest in the children.”

Nodding toward the letter, he continued reading.

“Tessa wrote only once in the six years that followed our move to Thornsby, but it was a long letter full of hollow apologies and revisionist history.”

“Once,” repeated Gregory. “She only wrote once. If a mother cared about her children, why would she send only one letter? And why wait until her husband has passed to appear on their doorstep? Had I been in her shoes, I would’ve hounded Rodney until he relented. I wouldn’t have surrendered so easily.”

Pointing to the last few paragraphs, he read:

“Tessa is many things—charming, clever, tireless in her efforts—but I would never entrust her with anything fragile. Not hearts. Not homes. Certainly not children. She is the kind who ruins and then rewrites the ending to suit herself. Remember the theft, the manipulation, the disloyalty. I bore it for years so my children wouldn’t have to.

“Do not be deceived. I leave this as a warning, not out of vengeance, but out of love for those who cannot yet protect themselves.”

Father’s brow arched at that. “Didn’t you chastise Mrs. Stuart for painting herself as a saint and her husband a devil?

I fear you may be doing the opposite. Most broken marriages are the fault of both parties, so I would be cautious in assuming that Rodney’s was the exception.

People love to believe themselves the anomaly that exists outside the bounds of law and morality, but there lies madness.

The lure of justification has led many a man into ruin. ”

“True, but nothing I have seen of Mrs. Stuart recommends her as a mother,” said Gregory, though he paused as he considered the woman he’d met before the truth had emerged. That lady had much to recommend herself, if Gregory were honest with himself. And he always tried to be.

But honesty or not, Gregory didn’t wish to admit why the lady had taken up residence in his thoughts—for it had more to do with himself than the children.

Of course, he was concerned about their well-being, but Mrs. Stuart could be dealt with.

At the very least, the law was unlikely to step between a guardian appointed by a father’s will and a mother who had abandoned them.

“I didn’t, you great lummox!” Mrs. Stuart’s voice rang from his memory, and he couldn’t help wanting to know more, though he also knew the lady had too strong a hold on him already.

Gregory couldn’t erase Mrs. Chatterbox from his mind or the possibility she had presented. But it hadn’t been genuine.

Holding up his hands in surrender, Father said, “I am not saying you must welcome her into the bosom of the family, simply that you are too quick to condemn her. I doubt she was the sole source of disquiet in their family, yet you are determined to tie her to a pyre. Truth be told, several of the things I heard your friend say about his marriage over the years gave me pause—”

“Rodney was a good man.”

Father nodded, his tone growing tentative. “True, but being a good man and an excellent father doesn’t mean he was a decent husband. And mind you, I have no concrete evidence, so I am speaking only of my own impressions, but I found his criticism of her unsettling.”

“With her behavior, is it any wonder?” asked Gregory, but that earned him a censorious look from the old man.

“Again, I am not advocating for Mrs. Stuart or casting aspersions on your friend,” said Father in a tone that demanded his son listen.

“I am simply suggesting that you need to accept the possibility that not everything he said was wholly accurate. He may have been a victim of her cruelty, but more often than not, the truth is complicated.”

Once more, the image of the lady he’d met in the coach rose to his thoughts. Mrs. Chatterbox had been well worth knowing, but truth be told, Gregory had fancied more than merely knowing her, and perhaps a touch of disappointment played a role in his reaction now.

He’d best mull over that thought for a bit.

“My feelings toward Mrs. Stuart are complicated, to say the least,” said Gregory for the sake of honesty.

But shaking free of that, he continued, “But I am primarily concerned with the children. I do not know what to do with them. Rodney had few others he could entrust with their safekeeping, and I fear he made the worst possible choice.”

Father’s brows furrowed, his empty eyes turning toward Gregory. Though they could not see any longer, they were filled with emotion, showing quite clearly his concern for his son.

“You are like your mother, my boy. Taking the whole of the world upon your shoulders and expecting too much of yourself,” he said, reaching for his son’s hand and giving it a squeeze when Gregory took hold.

“You went from being a bachelor to a father of six children. That alone would be difficult enough for anyone, let alone with the added stress of their broken hearts and this business with Mrs. Stuart. Give yourself some grace.”

“What grace is warranted if I ruin the children?” blurted Gregory, sinking into his seat.

“Managing the boys’ future will be difficult enough, but how can I oversee Daphne’s coming out if I haven’t the slightest notion of how to guide a young lady through courtship?

For goodness’ sake, I haven’t even navigated one myself. ”

“Yes, you’ve certainly made a muck with the ladies,” replied Father in a wry tone. “I fear you bear the Vaughns’ curse for difficult courtships. Heaven knows your mother made a muck of ours. As did your brother. Though Sadie’s troubles stemmed more from Walter than herself.”

“Mother mucked it all herself?” asked Gregory with a hint of a smile. “Ought I to ask her about that?”

Father held up a staying hand. “That is threat enough, sirrah. I am properly cowed.”

Leaning forward, the gentleman angled toward his son and reached out, seeking Gregory’s knee; with a slight touch to guide him, Father found it and smiled warmly.

“Your concern for the children is proof enough that you are the proper guardian for them, my boy. Children do not need much. Affection and a good example are all they require, and you are quite capable of providing both.”

“But—”

Father squeezed Gregory’s knee again, silencing him.

“Parents fret and fuss over how to teach and guide their children, but the truth is, they needn’t worry about teaching anything.

Simply live the upstanding life you wish the children to have and demonstrate the joy it brings you—that motivates them far more than lecturing.

And if you are living as you ought, lessons will flow from you to them in a natural fashion without the need to fabricate moments. ”

“Live a good life? That sounds far too simple,” muttered Gregory.

Father huffed. “There is nothing simple or easy about being a good person. If it were, far more would do it. Unfortunately, the ‘do as I say, not as I do’ method is far too prevalent, and parents think they can simply teach their children to be better than themselves without having to sacrifice their favorite flaws.”

With a wry smile, Father added, “Children test your patience again and again, and you have to remain strong against that baser self that wishes to rail against them or ignore the problem and let them have their way. But I am certain you will sort it out, Gregory. You are a good man, and you adore those children. They are blessed to have you.”

Though the affirmation warmed Gregory, he couldn’t help wondering how much of the fellow’s certainty was due to a father’s blind faith in his child. But one way or another, the Stuart children were his. He would sort this out.

And the first thing that required addressing was their mother.