Chapter 30

Greyson sat pensively in the parlor, staring at the letter his mother had left him. It had been a full day since he'd said his final goodbyes to her, and he had yet to read the letter.

How could he read something she had written while she was dying? He'd deceived her along with Violet.

Violet.

His chest ached every time he thought of her. Who did he think he was fooling? Pretending to court a young woman when he knew very well that things would end in disaster. What made matters worse was the fact that he thought he had?—

No.

He clenched his jaw. It didn't matter now whether he'd fallen in love with her or not. They had both decided that things couldn't work out. The memory of her standing in the rain still tugged at his chest, but he did his best to focus his attention on the letter instead.

It wasn't even the thought of his father's abandonment that held him back anymore. The mere fact that he had lied to his mother haunted him more than any ghost ever could.

"Greyson?" A voice from the past made him freeze.

Greyson refused to look up. It couldn't be who he thought it was. His thoughts couldn't have summoned him.

"I know I'm probably the last person you wish to see right now, son, but if you would just listen to what I have to say…"

The voice was older and rougher than he remembered, but the word son had him jumping to his feet.

Henry Stone stood in the doorway of the parlor, his traveling hat in his hands. His dark brown hair had begun to grey at the temples, and there were wrinkles around the corners of his eyes and mouth. His green eyes were tired and red-rimmed.

If Greyson hadn't known better, he would have said that the man had been crying.

"What do you want?" His tone was cold despite the anger he felt rising in his chest.

How dare the man who had almost ruined their lives show up out of the blue as if nothing had happened at all?

"I came because of Christina…" Henry trailed off when Greyson clenched his fists at his sides. "Your mother wrote me a letter informing me of her condition. She said that she would like me to make amends to you after her passing." He reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a crumpled letter.

"None of that matters now. She's gone. You should have made things right when she was still alive, not now," Greyson spat, wishing he could give in to his anger and knock the man unconscious.

They had made it on their own after his father had gone off and married his mistress. There was nothing left to be done or said.

Despite his father's build, Greyson towered above him. He was at least a head taller than him and far more muscular.

"I understand how you must be feeling…" Henry began to explain as he walked into the room, holding the letter out in front of him as if it would serve as a form of protection.

The feelings that Greyson had bottled up for years finally burst.

"You know how I feel? How dare you abandon your wife and son, leaving us to hold the estate together while you traipsed across the country with your Scottish whore?! You dare show your face here again and say that you know how I feel?!" Greyson advanced on him, making him back away until the back of his legs connected with a chair, forcing him to sit down. "There is no ounce of compassion in your soul, and there is nothing you can say to convince me otherwise!"

"You have every right to feel the way you do. Your mother told me that you would be angry, but you have a right to know that you once had a brother. He died while Catarina was giving birth to him." Henry's face paled visibly as he spoke. "They both did."

Greyson stopped short of raising his fists. The pitiful look on his father's face made his stomach churn with resentment. Shaking his head, he backed away and stalked across the room to the cart of drinks, pouring himself a generous shot of whisky before downing it in one gulp.

"I'm not sure how your mother heard of the tragedy, but she wrote to me a few months later and said that she forgave me for everything. I realized how badly I had overlooked her character and worth when she attempted to console me, saying that no man deserved the anguish I had experienced, no matter what he had done."

But the remorse in Henry's voice failed to thaw Greyson's heart.

Greyson turned and looked down at his father, realizing just how small and pitiful of a man he had become. "She was a far more forgiving person than I am. I can't say that I am happy your mistress and child died, but I cannot forgive you just for the sake of their memory. You will always be a cowardly man in my eyes."

Henry hung his head. "I deserve that, and more. The way I treated you and your mother is unforgivable. I don't expect you to listen to me, nor am I here to lay claim to the estate," he mumbled while unfolding the crumpled letter.

A derisive laugh escaped Greyson's lips. "You can have the estate back if you want. I don't need anything you left. My mother and I worked far harder than you ever did in your entire life! She left me enough money to buy an estate twice the size of this." He gestured to the manor at large.

Henry sat silently for a moment. "As I knew you would if I left. I don't want anything back, Greyson. I don't deserve it. I wrote back and told your mother that I wouldn't blame you for acting like this, but she insisted that I come and right the wrongs of the past."

"There is nothing you can do to make anything right. Just leave." Greyson ran his fingers through his thick, messy hair, wishing he could just vanish into thin air and not have to face anything at all.

"I know, but I can try. I never realized how much my decision to leave impacted you until your mother's final response." Henry's voice broke as if he, too, were mourning the loss of his wife.

Sinking into a chair on the opposite side of the room, Greyson stared at the man who had left him when he was a child. Why couldn't he just take the hint and leave? There was nothing he could do to set things right.

"Have you been in contact with Violet since your mother's passing?" His father held his gaze without flinching.

The mention of her name sent a cold shiver down Greyson's spine. "How so you know that name?"

Henry waved the letter in his hand. "It's all in here. Your mother feared that my abandoning you had affected your choices. From what she wrote, I can see that you love this Violet a great deal."

"Please stop speaking her name as if you know her personally," Greyson growled and then clenched his jaw.

The urge to punch his father grew stronger with every passing second.

"Very well, I will stop saying her name, but I will say my piece. You can throw me out afterward and never see me again if you wish, but I will say what needs to be said." Henry sat up straight. "What I did was wrong, but your mother wasn't the love of my life. I knew, and so did she."

Greyson gripped the armrests of his chair so hard that his knuckles turned white.

"I realize that admitting this now is a cowardly thing to do, but I was a young fool under pressure from both our families. I was in love with Catarina from the start and should have stood my ground. I owed that to your mother as well as Catarina. Things could have been a lot different if I just refused to follow my father's wishes." Henry held up his hand when Greyson made to stand up.

The sheer nerve of the man to hold up his hand as if he had some kind of authority made Greyson's blood boil. It was bad enough that his father had come back and dishonored his mother's memory even further, but his gall was more than Greyson could bear.

"I am saying this to you now in the hope that you will make the right decision. God knows that I made a lot of wrong decisions. Perhaps Catarina's passing was my punishment, but telling you the truth is my atonement. You need to put aside your pride and go after Violet. You are not who I used to be, and even now I am a far cry from the man you have become."

Greyson's anger melted in the wake of his father's admission. He wasn't a bad man, just a pitiful man who had made the wrong decisions.

"I can see the pity in your eyes, and I am glad for it. You stayed when I left. You looked after your mother, when it had been my responsibility all along. You won't abandon this young woman. You are a man of integrity, strength, and compassion—I was never any of those things. So, please stop trying to convince yourself that you are anything like me, because you are far from it."

Henry stood up and shook his head, looking at the closed envelope that Greyson had left on the settee opposite his chair.

Greyson wasn't sure how to respond. How could he believe anything that the man who had abandoned him said? He wouldn't trust him with a crust of bread at a banquet.

"I can see your mother was right." Henry nodded toward the envelope. "She knew you would have a hard time reading her final words to you. Do yourself and Violet a favor and open the letter before it's too late. I will leave you with the one she wrote to me as proof of what I am saying—although I don't think it will be necessary once you read yours." Henry put the letter on his seat and turned back to Greyson.

"You already know what it says?" Greyson asked in a quiet voice.

Henry nodded. "Your mother told me all about it." He turned to leave, but then paused with his back still turned to him. "I will never darken your doorstep again. I know you don't wish to hear from me, but, please, read your mother's letter."

He then left the room without a backward glance.

Greyson glanced at the letter across the room and the one still in the envelope across from him. The letter his father had left seemed worn and frayed around the edges as if it had been read many times over. Swallowing hard, he worked up the courage and stood, walking across the room to retrieve his mother's letter. His fingers trembled as he unfolded the paper and smelled the heavy scent of her perfume.

My darling Greyson,

I know that by the time you read this letter, you will have had to endure many painful hardships that I wish I could have spared you. The unfortunate thing about life is that it must come to an end at some point, and I will no longer be there to guide you. There are only two things I wish to ask you, now that I am no longer there. Please trust me when I say that I wholeheartedly believe that both will lead you to a better life.

Firstly, I ask that you forgive your father. I know this one will be difficult, but the strange thing that I have come to realize about forgiveness is that it isn't for the other person. Forgiveness is for us. It helps us let go of all the anger and frustration we harbor.

Oh, my darling son, how I wish you would let go of all the burdens and anger that were never meant to be yours in the first place. Your father made many mistakes, as I am sure he has told you by now, and if he hasn't, please know that I forgave him a long time ago. How could I not, when he left me with such a precious son?

Secondly, I want you to go to Violet. I know you had this silly notion that I didn't know about your little ruse. I'm not sure how you thought that I wouldn't know. I pushed you for months, and suddenly you came home with a match. Nobody finds love that quickly. I would have given you a piece of my mind, but I quickly realized that what you found with Violet was something special, indeed. You would be a fool not to marry her. What I saw unfold between the two of you was pure magic in the making.

I do not wish to ramble on, so please move on with your life knowing that I was aware of your little agreement all along. Neither of you needs to feel guilty about your lie.

Yours forever, even in heaven,

Your loving mama.

PS. Only a fool thinks he can pull the wool over his mother's eyes.

A mix of laughter choked with tears escaped his lips as he read his mother's words. Of course, she had known all along. The woman had hardly ever missed a beat when she was alive. Even in death, she still found a way to best him.

He quickly held the letter away when a few tears smudged the ink. Her letter was one he would cherish for the rest of his life.

Looking across the room, he wondered how his father could have left the letter his mother had written to him when he treated his own as if it were more precious than gold.

Catarina.

The name echoed in his mind. She had been his father's true love. Things would have turned out differently if his father had only gone after the woman he loved instead of making all the wrong choices.

Greyson's chest tightened as he glanced back at his mother's letter. Was he making the same kind of mistakes that his father had made?