before he gulped and backed away. Winter waited until his father came into the room before turning the force of his anger on him. Because God knew, he’d been part of the deception, too. He opened his mouth, but his father lifted a hand, dismissing Matteo with a nod.
“Before you say something you regret, Son, I gave the order for you not to be told,” the duke said. He lifted his hand again as Winter’s mouth opened to argue. “Not only was it to allow you the recuperation you needed, but it was also a particular request of your wife.”
Winter blinked, his protest forgotten. Isobel had asked for them not to tell him?
“Why?” he asked hoarsely.
“I imagine that’s for her to share when she’s ready,” Kendrick said.
He swallowed hard. “Where is she?”
“Kendrick Abbey.”
Winter felt his chest squeeze, the withered organ inside batting fiercely. Fuck. When had he lost the very heart he claimed not to have? He’d repeatedly ordered her to go back, to return to where she belonged, and she had. It was what he’d wanted…what he’d thought he wanted, and now that she was gone, he wanted to beg her to return. The only place she belonged was in his arms.
“She left me,” he murmured. “I pushed her away because I don’t deserve her.”
A long moment passed before the duke cleared his throat. “I loved your mother, but her designation of love differed greatly from mine. In the world of the ton, love doesn’t have much value, yet it is the most valuable thing we can hope to experience. And it’s worth fighting for.”
“I—”
“Let me finish,” his father said. “I know the duchess turned to you with her troubles—a burden that no young boy should have to bear. But you need to know the truth. She used my love, and yours, to serve her interests. Prudence got the worst of it.” Winter exhaled at the mention of his sister’s name. “She knew how much you adored that girl, as I did. Like Oliver, Prudence wasn’t mine in blood, but she was mine in every other way.”
The confession stunned Winter. Oliver’s parentage had been a shock, but Prue? He’d never suspected, though once more, hindsight was perfectly clear. It’d been in the way his mother had treated both Oliver and Prue—in her reverence toward Winter and her subtle disdain toward the other two. She’d been exacting on Prue, forcing her to play the pianoforte until her nails broke and fingers bled. Forcing her to be perfect. His sister had been treated as though she wasn’t good enough, because in their mother’s mind, she wasn’t.
“I should have seen it,” he muttered. “Done something.”
“I overheard Prudence once telling her maid that she could never measure up—she wasn’t beautiful enough, clever enough, talented enough. And that she was done because she’d found out the truth, discovered your mother’s infidelity and her lies, and nothing would ever change who she was.” A harsh sound ripped from his father’s chest. “I couldn’t save her, tell her she was loved and so wanted. I failed her.”
“We both did,” Winter said hoarsely.
His mother especially. He wouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but he knew that he had to let go of the darkness that he’d kept clamped around his heart. The past, though not what he’d thought it to be, was in the past. He could only look forward. Start afresh.
“Isobel reminded me so much of her. Nothing will ever replace Prudence in my heart, but she brought so much light back to Kendrick Abbey. I couldn’t let you throw away one of the better things in your life, even if you think you don’t deserve it.” Kendrick’s eyes shone with something that looked suspiciously like pride. “And don’t think I don’t know about your shelter and the good you’ve done. I’m proud of you, Son.”
His chest clogged with emotion, Winter embraced his father, feeling suddenly as if all the pieces of his life were falling into place. All except for one…the one that would make him complete.
“I fucked up,” he murmured. “She told me she loved me, and I didn’t know what to say.”
Kendrick nodded. “That girl has loved you from the start, Winter, and I knew you weren’t as inured to her as you pretended to be, even when you left her on my doorstep three years ago. You had to get out of your own way first.”
“What do I do?” he asked.
His ever-proper father gave him a look that bordered on exasperation. “You