Chapter 34
Thirty-Four
“I thought I might find you here.”
The sound of Ethan’s voice interrupted Owen’s brooding contemplation of the stream. His brother approached, a basket swinging from his hand.
“Mind if I join you?” Ethan asked.
Owen moved over to make room on the blanket he’d spread beneath the yew tree.
Ethan sprawled beside him. “Since you weren’t at breakfast, I brought you some food.”
“I am not hungry.”
“How long have you been sitting here?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“That makes two of us.”
Guilt suffocated Owen. Staring at the moving current, he forced the words out.
“How is Xenia?”
“She’s fine. You were there when the physician pronounced her right as rain.” A thread of humor entered Ethan’s voice. “The only thing bruised is her pride. She’s embarrassed that she swooned.”
“Christ, she has no reason to be embarrassed! She should have never been in such a situation—and wouldn’t have been, if not for me.” The words tumbled from him. “I know an apology isn’t enough, but I am so bloody sorry for the distress I’ve caused her—and you. Again.”
He shoved his fingers through his hair, searching for better words. For a better way of expressing the tumult of self-loathing, grief, and shame.
“This wasn’t your fault.” Ethan’s tone hardened. “That scheming sharpster did this.”
Although his brother’s characterization of Finn was entirely justified, Owen had to quell the instinct to defend her.
Which further proved that he was the biggest fool who ever lived.
Finn didn’t deserve or need his protection.
She’d shown time and again that she could and would take care of her own interests.
Indeed, her interests were all she cared about.
She’d lied about everything from the moment they met and duped him into believing that she loved him. She’d used him and his family as a means to an end. Her betrayal was agonizing—yet it didn’t absolve him of the role he’d played in last night’s disaster.
“I brought Finn into our lives,” he said tightly. “I vouched for her and made all of you trust her. I gave her the power to hurt our family—”
“Don’t give yourself too much credit. I, for one, never trusted her fully,” Ethan said dryly. “Grantley had his doubts too. The only difference between him and me is that he’s crowing about how right he was.”
Owen refused to be distracted by the attempt at levity.
“You needn’t spare me, Ethan. I am at fault. It was my poor judgment—”
“And Xenia, Gigi, and Evie’s. They were her champions too. In fact, Xenia confessed their matchmaking scheme: the three of them were plotting to pair you and Finn off from the start.”
Owen furrowed his brow. “Why would they do that?”
“Why do those three do anything? I cannot fathom the female mind.” Ethan rolled his eyes. “But Xenia did say that they thought you and Finn might be the fourth season referenced in the rhyme. They believed that once you gave your vows, Thomas and Rose would finally be free.”
“I am not breaking any curses,” Owen said bitterly. “I am the curse.”
“Don’t say that.”
“It’s true. Everyone who comes near me gets hurt. My comrades-in-arms who were counting on me. Mama, Papa, Gigi, and James, and the list goes on. I was a complete arse to everyone when I returned from war. And then there’s you.”
Self-revulsion churned Owen’s gut. As humbled as he was by Ethan’s forgiveness, and as much as he valued having his brother back in his life, he couldn’t deny reality.
“Christ, Ethan, I destroyed your dream. You were trying to save me from myself, and I injured your hand, taking away your future as a maestro. Now I’ve endangered your pregnant wife. You should be telling me to go to hell—”
“I would, if I could get a word in edgewise.”
Breathing heavily, Owen said, “Really?”
“No. I don’t need to tell you where to go when you’re already there.” Ethan laid a hand on his shoulder. “I think you know you have my forgiveness. But it isn’t mine you need, is it?”
“I don’t know how to forgive myself.” After an instant, Owen shook his head impatiently.
“That is not entirely true. Maybe I was making progress. Maybe I was learning to be myself again without the drink and other vices. Maybe finding my purpose as a landscape gardener was a way of redeeming myself—”
“All of that is true. You’ve come a long way, brother. It takes courage to survive what you did and strength to use those experiences to become a better man.”
Owen absorbed that. “But how can I forgive myself for Finn? I trusted her…loved her.”
Ethan sighed. “Giving your heart to the wrong woman isn’t a crime. It just makes you human.”
“I wish I were less human.”
Ethan laughed, even though Owen had been serious.
“Of all the siblings, you’ve always had the most open heart,” his brother said. “That is perhaps the one kind thing I can say about Finn. Despite her deviousness, she brought you back to us.”
“Since when have you taken to looking on the bright side?”
“Since I married Xenia and realized that love—the real kind—heals.”
“I suppose the same can be said of brotherly love.” Owen’s eyes heated, and he had to clear his throat. “Thank you, Ethan. For…for everything.”
“You’re welcome.” Ethan coughed into his fist, taking undue care opening the basket. “Now stop brooding and have one of these currant buns. As my lady was indisposed, these were not made by her hand—a fact your teeth shall thank you for.”