spoke to the character and strength of his elder brothers and their ability to survive in a harsh world. The idea of that, however, threatened to rip Geoffrey in two. “On the other hand, you do not need me to tell you what the world is like for women. It is different. It is harsh. And unfair.”
Wesley fisted his hands at his sides and gave a slight nod. “I’m well aware.”
“Then you’re also aware your sister would be best served coming to London and having a life here.”
“I don’t want to agree with you,” Wesley said tightly.
“And yet, you do.”
Wesley briefly closed his eyes and bobbed his head in a quick nod. “She should be here. Rafe will hate it,” he said on a rush. “But he’d also never allow her to come alone.”
Geoffrey stilled once more. “Then I’ll visit and explain—”
His son was already shaking his head. “He’ll never receive you. And if you try to explain anything, he’ll likely level you. He’s got a hot temper,” Wesley added.
A wry grin pulled at his lips. “I appreciate your honesty.” He proposed a different course. “Then I can send someone in my employ and—”
“He’ll never hear out an opinion on anything. He’s as stubborn as the mining day is long. He’s set in his ways. The only people who have a hope of reasoning with him are his siblings.”
Geoffrey arched forward. “Perhaps you are the one to reason with—”
“Not me.” Wesley glanced down. “My brother and I are… at odds over my decision to come to you. He won’t be receptive to anything I say.”
“Even if Rafe and Hunter reject all offers of help, I promise to find a way for Cailin.” Geoffrey patted the younger man on the shoulder, a gesture that felt so natural and one that his son didn’t pull away from, and emotion clogged his throat.
Wesley grunted. “Thank you. I—”
“Don’t thank me.” Geoffrey let his arm fall to his side. “I… have someone whom I believe might be able to offer some guidance on how best to extend that first connection and who’ll also help present Cailin, should she come.” When she came. Geoffrey had no intention of failing any of his children, and certainly not his daughter.
Wesley gave him a look. “Who?”
Oh, God.
He’d said too much and proceeded too quickly, so desperate to preserve this moment and the shared connection he’d formed with his son. Geoffrey considered a lie only briefly. “The woman I once knew…” His lips pulled. “That is…”
“The woman whom you were in love with?” His son spoke without inflection, and Geoffrey took heart and found hope enough to continue.
“Uh, yes. Lydia, the Countess of Chombley. She is recently widowed and has grown children of her owns. She has offered her support, and I know that means she’ll sponsor Cailin were she to come, and she’d also have an idea of how to hopefully bring her here.”
He tensed, braced for his son’s rejection, for the death knell of the truce they’d formed.
“You believe this countess will help your bastard children?”
“I know she will,” Geoffrey said. “I’ve already spoken to her, and she offered to help in any way.”
The young man’s brow dipped, creasing with confusion and giving him a boyish look and offering in a moment a hint of the serious child he’d no doubt been. “Indeed?”
He nodded.
Wesley cleared his throat. “If I might convey my thanks to her.”
Geoffrey’s heart paused. His son wished to meet Lydia. “I know she would very much like to meet you. If you would be open to speaking with her, I can arrange a meeting, just so that you can ascertain for yourself that she is the manner of person who will treat your siblings with kindness and the respect they deserve,” he hastily added.
“I… would like that, too,” Wesley said. “Thank—”
Geoffrey cut off the remainder of that gratitude. “Please, don’t thank me, Wesley. You’re my son,” he said simply.
The young man glanced at the floor, but not before Geoffrey caught the bright shine to his eyes, a shimmer that hinted at tears, and yet, when Wesley looked up a moment later, Geoffrey might as well have imagined that show of emotion.
With a quiet goodbye, Wesley headed for the doorway, and Geoffrey clasped his hands behind him and stared after his son.
Suddenly, Wesley stopped.
He turned back. The proud younger man stood there, silent, at apparent odds with himself.
Geoffrey could appreciate how impossible any of this—all of this—was for the other man. He’d no doubt spent the