“What about me is fragile? Clearly, she didn’t see my fight with Brooks last night or she wouldn’t be worried in the least.”
“She’s not worried about you physically, you idiot,” said Robert. “It’s your mental state she’s concerned about.”
His mental state was just fine. He was getting through the days well enough.
Another stinging gulp of brandy rushed down Carver’s throat.
“Her fears are unfounded.” He could feel his anger rising but tried to push it back down. Boxing had helped with that problem when he was in London. But at home, he’d have to find another way to help the tension. “I’m perfectly fine.” The words sounded weak even to him.
Robert narrowed his all too knowing eyes. “Really? Because you haven’t been home in three years. That does not sound like a man who is doing well to me.”
“I’m home now.” He opened his hands, indicating his very presence.
“And you’re also sitting up late in your father’s study instead of going to your own chamber.” Robert eyed him closely. “Why is that?” Robert continued without waiting for an answer. “I think you still haven’t faced your grief. You ran away after she died and have been avoiding it ever since.”
Carver dropped his eyes away and clenched his teeth together. He attempted a calming breath through his nose. “How did we get on this topic? I thought we were talking about you and Mary.” Carver let the warning hang heavy in the air as he attempted to soothe the tension at the back of his neck.
Robert did not waver. “It doesn’t help, does it? Burying yourself under alcohol and boxing. She still finds you at the end of the day, doesn’t she?” If Carver leveled the man, would Mary forgive him? “You’re not fooling any of us, Carver. You’re hurting. And that’s normal.”
Carver’s eyes snapped back to Robert. “If I wanted a recounting of my life, I would have asked for it.” Each word fell out sharp and clipped.
Robert’s gaze intensified as he leaned forward. “You can mill me down when I’m done if you’d like, but right now you’re bloody well going to listen because I love my wife and my wife is worried about you.”
It would seem Oliver wasn’t the only one immune to Carver’s threatening look.
Robert continued, “You think staying away is going to help you heal, but it’s not. It’s time and passed for you to mourn Claire’s death and allow yourself to truly grieve. Quit running from it.”
Carver’s whole body stiffened at the sound of her name, just like it always did.
Robert seemed to notice his discomfort, and some of his rigid demeanor softened, along with his tone. “And the fact that you still can’t say her name after three years tells me that you’ve also not accepted the fact she is gone.”
How could he have not accepted it? The evidence was everywhere. Nothing smelled like lilac. Her bubbling, infectious laughter no longer floated down the halls. And yet…he still looked for it. Did that mean he hadn’t accepted it after all?
Still, his anger boiled that Robert would insert his opinion where it wasn’t wanted. “What do you know about loss, Robert? Your wife is safely tucked in bed upstairs, while the woman I love is buried under the ground.” But hearing the words out loud made him instantly regret them.
“What do I know of loss?” Robert’s voice was weak. “Six months ago I had to stand beside my wife and bury our stillborn child. Not only do I mourn the loss of our child, but I mourn the dreams we carried for her future.” He paused and met Carver’s eyes. “Yes, the baby was a girl, and I am faced every day with the pain of not getting to hold her in my arms. The pain of finding my wife weeping when she thinks I’m not watching.” Carver wanted to look away, but Robert’s eyes held his. “I know loss, Carver. And I also know that running away and never talking about it is not going to help me heal. And for Mary’s sake, I have to pursue healing.”
Carver wished the flames of the fire would open up and swallow him. “I’m sorry, Robert. I shouldn’t have said what I did. It was thoughtless.”
“Yes, it was…but frankly, Carver, you’ve been a little thoughtless and selfish for a few years now. Everyone’s just been too afraid of hurting you more to tell you they needed you.”
What? How on earth could he have been acting selfishly? He hadn’t even been around them enough to act selfishly.
Oh.
“Now that you are home, be home. Be there for your sisters. Maybe even go visit Claire’s family. I know they would like to see you.”
He could certainly be there for his sisters, but there was no way he was ready to go to see Claire’s family. Would they even want to see him since he was the reason Claire wasn’t alive anymore?
One thing was clear, his sisters did need him. He had been gone too long. Rectifying that should be his first priority. And in order to do that, he needed to get rid of Daphney. Why did that thought not sit well with him?
He knew nothing about the woman other than the fact that she was lying about everything she had told him. So why in heaven’s name did he feel so drawn to her? It didn’t matter now. Robert was right that he had been using his town endeavors to avoid his pain—Miss Bellows being one of those endeavors. She needed to go so that he could focus on his family.
Carver stood from his seat and looked Robert in the eyes. “I’m truly sorry for the loss of your daughter, Robert. You’re a good husband to my sister and an excellent father to Jane. They’re lucky to have you.” He smiled. “A touch prosy but also a bloody good brother-in-law. I can’t do everything you said, but I did hear you.”
And almost punched you.
Robert stood up and put his hand on Carver’s shoulder. “One step at a time, Kensworth. Start by going to your room and going to bed.”