Chapter 29
Jonathan waited until the following morning to begin the search.
His first stop was Gabriel’s house, and he was surprised and pleased to find that Nathaniel was already there. “What’s going on?” he asked as the three of them made their way to the library to talk.
“We were at the gentlemen’s club last night,” Gabriel explained. “We thought of summoning you as well, but we both rather thought that you’d like to spend the evening with Lady Violet.”
Jonathan simmered—this again?—but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to get sidetracked by an argument over whether he had unconfessed feelings for Violet or not, and he’d come to understand that his friends were never going to let the matter rest. Better to avoid the subject altogether.
“I’m here because I need your help,” he said. “Both of you, ideally. You have the connections that could aid me in solving a particular dilemma I’m grappling with.”
They looked at one another, and for a moment, Jonathan was sure they were going to try once more to make this moment about Violet. But they seemed to think better of it. Her name wasn’t brought up.
“What can we help with?” Gabriel asked, taking a seat and reaching for a cup of tea.
“I’m looking for someone,” Jonathan explained. “The parents of the boy I…” How to describe his relationship with Noah? “The boy who lives in the house I’m trying to acquire,” he decided.
“You’re trying to return him to his parents?” Gabriel asked.
“Perhaps. We’ve spoken about trying to reunite them.”
“Well, I know that would be a burden off your shoulders,” Nathaniel said encouragingly. “To be able to return the boy to his family and get back to focusing on your own affairs, I mean. I know that having him to think about has complicated things for you.”
Jonathan couldn’t answer. Nathaniel was trying to be kind—to be supportive—but what could he possibly say to that? He had called Noah a burden. He isn’t a burden, was what rose to Jonathan’s mind, but his friend hadn’t meant it in that way.
And besides, could he really make that claim?
He was trying to pass Noah off to someone else, specifically because the boy’s presence and his expectations made it so difficult to navigate the complicated affairs he and Violet were trying to deal with.
It would be difficult and painful to have Noah out of his life, but there would be some relief in knowing that he was safely with the people who were supposed to take care of him, and that they weren’t doing him any harm.
That’s if his parents turn out to be safe people at all.
Not something I can count on. That dark, intrusive thought hovered at the edge of his mind, toxic and painful, threatening to overwhelm him.
Was he doing the wrong thing by trying to find these people?
He knew enough to realize that sometimes, some people were better off remaining lost.
Maybe he was making a mistake.
But he had promised Violet he would do this.
She seemed so sure. And then there was the look that had crawled across Noah’s face after his slip, after he’d said the words, mum and dad.
He did want parents in his life. He had never been able to have faith in anything like that.
And what if Violet was right, and a mistake had been made?
They’d been thinking of Noah’s parents as having mistreated and abandoned him, but Noah had been such a little boy when all that had happened. What if they had simply lost him?
What if they loved him and wanted him back?
“Berney is the name,” he told his friends.
“Noah Berney. That’s the boy. He’s ten years old.
He would have gone missing from his family a few years ago.
But we should be discreet about this. I would prefer it if they didn’t know we had been looking for them until we find them and discover a few things about them.
What kind of people they are, how they came to lose their son—things of that nature. ”
“You don’t know what separated them?” Gabriel asked.
“Not for certain.”
“Do you know anything about them? Could the boy provide their names, or tell us where they lived or what they did for work?”
“He hasn’t been able to so far,” Jonathan said. “Any time the subject is raised, he simply stops talking, as though it’s deeply uncomfortable for him—which I believe it is. I think I would feel the same way in his shoes.”
His friends looked at one another again, and then back at him.
An unpleasant feeling crawled down Jonathan’s spine. “What?” he asked.
“You’re worried that the boy’s parents might be like your father?” Nathaniel asked quietly.
This was what they had both thought of at the same moment? Jonathan scowled. “I don’t know what they’re like,” he said. “That is what worries me. I highly doubt they have expectations that he will take over a dukedom and produce an heir, so how like my father could they possibly be?”
“But you understand what Nathaniel is getting at,” Gabriel pressed. “He means to say that there might be a selfishness in the boy’s parents. A heartlessness. That they might be interested in their own motives and gain more than in what they can offer to him—isn’t that the concern?”
“I suppose it is,” Jonathan allowed. He felt uneasy, off-kilter. He didn’t like to talk about his father. His friends knew that. Most of the time, they honored that. This was an aberration, and it made him uncomfortable.
“Once you find them, you’ll be able to say for certain what they’re like,” Nathaniel said.
“Which is why I don’t want them to know I’m looking for them,” Jonathan said. “If they’re not good people, I won’t have to let them get anywhere near the boy.”
“And if they are, what will you do?” Gabriel asked.
“If they’re truly good, and if Noah is comfortable, I would want to send him back to them,” Jonathan said. “A boy ought to be with his parents, if that option is available. He should be able to go to them. Do you think that’s right?”
“I do,” Gabriel agreed. “I think it’s a good outcome for the boy—and a good solution for you as well.”
“For me?”
“Well.” There was something a bit sheepish in Gabriel’s expression. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this.”
“Tell me what? You must tell me now. You can’t say something like that and then leave words unsaid.”
“You’re right, of course,” Gabriel said.
“But please keep in mind that this is just…well, it’s something Agnes said to me in passing, and I don’t know how true it is.
And even if it is true, I would be betraying a confidence to have spoken to you about it.
You mustn’t tell anyone what I’ve told you. ”
“You have my word.”
“It’s just that…Agnes told me that Lady Violet is enamored of the boy,” Gabriel said. “That he may be her strongest reason for wanting to stay in that house. And it makes me think that if he was gone, removed from the equation…”
Jonathan’s stomach turned. “You’re saying that she might leave the house.”
“And I know how much that house means to you,” Gabriel said quickly. “Because of the painting. I know how much it matters. If you could do something to make it so that the house was yours…”
“I wouldn’t have done it for that reason,” Jonathan said sharply. “You can’t think I want that house so badly that I would put the boy in bad hands.”
“Of course not.” Gabriel’s tone rose in alarm.
“That’s not what I meant, Jonathan. I know you won’t do anything that isn’t right for the child.
I just thought it might benefit you too.
Because maybe if he’s happy and settled with his family.
Lady Violet won’t want the house any longer. Maybe it could be that easy.”
Maybe it could, Jonathan thought. Maybe she would be happy to leave once Noah was out of the picture. Then the house would be his.
He had yearned for this for such a long time…
He thought of the painting in his bedroom, the one his mother had painted before her death. What would it mean to her that all this was happening now? He knew she would feel something about it. She would have opinions about every choice he was making. But what would they be?
If only I could speak with her. If only she could tell me what to do.
He swallowed. There really wasn’t a difficult decision to be made here.
He knew what needed to be done. Regardless of what the future held, he did believe it was right to try to identify Noah’s parents, whether the goal was to reconcile them with their son or to make them face consequences for the harm Noah had suffered.
“Let me know what you’re able to find out about them,” he told his friends. “If anything. The more information we can get, the better, because then we’ll be able to make the wisest possible decision for Noah’s sake.”
“I’ll start making discreet inquiries at once,” Gabriel said.
“As will I,” Nathaniel agreed.
Jonathan nodded. “I won’t be too much help, I’m afraid. If word gets back to these people that they are being looked for, I don’t want them to connect it with me. I don’t want them to get a hint as to where their son is until I’m sure they’re suitable to be in his life.”
“I think that’s sensible,” Nathaniel said. “Don’t worry. Gabriel and I will be able to find an answer. We’ll get you some information. We won’t stop until we do.”
Jonathan let out a sigh. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. “I can’t tell you what it means to me that I can come to you both with this, and that I can rely on you for your help.”
“You can always count on us,” Nathaniel said.
“And Jonathan,” Gabriel said.
Jonathan looked at him.
“I know you must be conflicted,” Gabriel said. “I can see it. You know this might mean she moves out, but the way your face looked when I said it…you aren’t sure you want her to, are you?”
He opened his mouth to protest again, to tell Gabriel to stop looking for evidence that he had feelings for Violet…and suddenly, Jonathan was tired.
His heart ached. He didn’t want to deny it. Not again. Not anymore.
The way she had stood so close to him in the study the other day. The trust in her eyes as she’d looked up at him. It had touched something deep within him. He had never felt so aligned with another person. He’d never experienced such unity of purpose.
His father had been the sort of man to always use others for his own gain. And for the longest time, he had believed the same must be true of Violet. After all, wasn’t everyone like that, really? Weren’t all people looking out for what they could gain?
Yes, they were. Sometimes.
But Violet was willing to sacrifice Noah’s presence in her life if it was what was best for the boy.
She might be willing to sacrifice the house that—at least by some measure—was rightfully hers.
And in that moment, Jonathan knew that he didn’t want to sacrifice her.
“I’m conflicted,” he confessed, lowering his eyes. “I do have feelings for her. And I don’t know what to do.”
His friends did not crow in triumph, did not tell him they had known it all along, or try to encourage him to confess his feelings.
They were kind.
They sat with him and made no comment, and Jonathan knew that they supported him—no matter what decisions he made about his future.