“He misses war, doesn’t he?” Thea said.
“Perhaps. Maybe.” There was a beat of silence and then Margaret said bitterly, “I believe sometimes he is disappointed he didn’t die a glorious hero’s death. He rode into cannon fire. He pointed his horse at where the French were the strongest, and they say he charged them like a madman. And his men followed.” Her voice broke. She tightened her hold around herself. “I know Harry would have willingly died. But apparently he didn’t anticipate that his men would go where he went, bravely. I believe Harry had thought to go it alone. They took out the cannons but at a great loss of life. And now Harry has their deaths on his conscience. He didn’t want to leave Spain, but Wellington’s staff forced him. Some think Harry is a war hero, but there are those many amongst his comrades who fault him for the deaths that day.”
“What does Harry believe?” Thea asked, already knowing the answer.
“He doesn’t speak of it,” Margaret said. “But I believe he is unprincipled and drunk because he wishes he were dead. He doesn’t care about hislife, therefore he doesn’t value it as much as his family does.”
Thea had never considered that a man would turn to vices to escape his disappointments. Had Boyd indulged because he’d been unhappy with his life? Unhappy with her?
She had to take a step away.
Margaret raised a hand to dab at the tears that had started falling down her cheeks. “I don’t like to cry. It’s weak.”
“It’s human,” Thea answered, thinking back to the way she had broken down with Neal the other night.
“Tears serve no purpose.”
“They cleanse the soul,” Thea said. “We all need a good soul cleansing from time to time.”
Margaret shrugged her response. “Not in this family.”
“Yes, inthisfamily,” Thea declared. “Margaret, you and I can’t save Harry from the demons he faces. But you putting your life on hold is not going to help. You can’t protect him. I know this. Harry must help himself. He is the only one who can. That’s advice that was given to me years ago, and it is true.”
“It may be too late to do anything. You saw him in there. He doesn’t care if he lives or dies as longas he has laudanum and a bottle of something, anything, really. He is not choosy as long as it is spirits.”
“Oh, he cares,” Thea said with complete certainty. “He’s a Chattan. He is made of the same stuff as you and Neal. If he wants to become better, he must learn to forgive himself and to understand that war is made up of men’s sacrifices, honest lives given for a cause.”
“You make it sound simple,” Margaret said, anger lighting her eyes. “You talk as if you know us, and you don’t. You won’t,either. Because of your interference, Neal will die shortly, and I will have nothing to do with you.”
On those cruel words, she walked off.
Thea sat down in the chair, shaken. She had not anticipated a joyful reception into the Chattan family, but this was too much. She needed Neal. She had to find him and her sons. Then the world would make sense again.
Of course, she had no idea where they were located in this house, and she assumed it would not be safe to ask Margaret. She glanced around at the portraits on the walls, the shining glass and bronze sconces, the thick carpet beneath her feet.
A footstep sounded on the stair. Relieved to not be alone, she turned to see a tall gentleman ofadvanced years coming up the stairs. He had the dignified air of a butler.
Thea stood and met him at the top of the stairs. “Dawson?” He nodded. “Please, tell me where my husband and my sons are?”
“They are in his lordship’s room, my lady,” Dawson said. “Please, follow me.”
He took her to the end of the hall and knocked on the door. The valet answered. He recognized Thea immediately.
“Good evening, my lady. You are looking for Lord Lyon and your sons?”
“I am.”
“This way, please.” He opened the door, revealing a sitting room that took up almost half of the second floor. The furniture was designed with hard, masculine lines, and the colors were burgundy and brown.
It was a fitting lair for a Lyon.
“I’m Perrin, his lordship’s valet. Lord Lyon and your sons are in the bedroom. They have been waiting for you. His lordship is entertaining them by reading. I took the liberty of unpacking your bags,” Perrin continued. “We all know you were helping Lord Harry, so I also ordered a tray for your supper.” He pointed to the silver serving dish on a table by the window.
“Thank you,” Thea said. “But what of my sons and my husband?”
“Oh, they ate, and right well, I should say.” He had been leading her across the room to another door, but now he stopped, one hand on the handle. “It is good to hear the sound of children’s voices, my lady,” he said. “All of us have commented on it. You are raising two fine young gentlemen.”
“Thank you, Perrin,” Thea said, pleased.