Page 65 of Hunted By the Guardian
It was possible that she had abandoned the use of his name because she was speaking to the solicitor. Maybe that didn’t mean anything. And yet, Jonathan couldn’t help feeling it like a slap. He had been Jonathan to her for a long time now, and suddenly, they were back to formalities because of this.
“That’s right,” the solicitor said. “It’s his house. Now, between the two of you, you may decide what that means. Maybe he would like to pay you a sum, and I’m sure he’ll want to put together some sort of timeline on when you’ll be expected to leave and find new accommodations. But as for the law, it recognizes His Grace as the owner of this property.”
He rose officiously, then hesitated as if he expected someone to stop him or call him back. Nobody did. Jonathan wanted nothing more than for him to leave so that he could speak to Violet, tell her that this wasn’t what he’d meant to have happen. He wanted to let her know that the timing had been atrocious and completely unpredictable, and that he would never have said what he’d said over breakfast had he known this news was coming today.
After a moment, Tomlin seemed to realize that nobody was going to say anything more to him. He lifted his shoulders, let them fall, and made his way out. They listened as he walked through the foyer toward the door, which opened and closed, and then they were together in a stunned silence.
Jonathan drew in a long breath, then slowly released it, preparing to speak.
But once again, it was Violet who spoke first.
“I guess you were right,” she said, her voice sharp and bitter. “The house is yours, just as you knew it would be.”
“Violet…”
“You don’t need to worry about creating a timeline for me to leave,” she said. “I’ll leave at once. I’ll be out as soon as I find somewhere to go.”
“I told you that you didn’t need to do that,” he protested. “You should stay here with…” With me, he almost said, but he held himself back. “With Noah,” he amended. “He needs you.”
“No, he doesn’t. You can provide everything he needs. You’ve already gotten him a governess. And goodness knows you’re a better disciplinarian than I am,” she said. “So you don’t need me for anything, and neither does Noah. You’ll be just as happy to have me out of your way.”
“Violet, don’t do this.”
“And I don’t want you finding me somewhere to live either,” she said firmly. “I don’t know how you got it into your head that I was someone for you to pity, Jonathan, but I’m not.”
At least she had used his name again. He felt a strange rush of relief at the familiarity—surely this meant that her anger was temporary and that the two of them were going to find a way to resolve this. Surely it meant that.
She was rising to her feet, though, and not looking at him. “I can see now that this was what you had planned the whole time,” she said. “Everything that happened between us…” Those words were laden with meaning. He was sure she was talking about the kiss. She shook her head and continued. “Everything that happened was part of a scheme, a ploy to keep me from realizing that you were well on your way to getting the thing you really wanted. The house. You were biding your time until it was yours, and nothing else was ever real.”
He felt sick. “It was all real,” he said.
“Just promise me one thing,” she said, turning and facing him head-on.
He had thought she might be tearful, but she wasn’t. Her eyes were bright, but they were clear. He waited.
“Noah,” she said. “He is yours now. He remains with the house, as my aunt stipulated, and that means he belongs to you. Promise me you will treat him the way he deserves. Don’t pretend with him as you did with me. Care for him. Find his parents if you can, reunite them if they deserve to be in his life. If they don’t, take responsibility for him yourself, and make sure that he knows he’s loved. Don’t you dare toy with his emotions. Don’t treat him as a means to an end, or as something to be discarded.
Jonathan’s temper flared.
Hadn’t she listened when he had told her about his own father? About the way his father had only cared for him transactionally, for what he could provide?
How can she accuse me of the same thing?
“Maybe you’re right,” he said quietly. “Maybe it is best if you just go.”
Her face softened, and for a moment, he thought she might take it all back.
But she didn’t.
She turned and walked out of the room, leaving Jonathan sitting alone and wondering whether that might have been the last time the two of them would ever be alone together.
CHAPTER 34
“Noah,” Jonathan said sharply, “pick up all these books from the floor, please. You know that isn’t where books belong.”
Noah was sitting in the middle of the library, surrounded by piles of books. Some of them were his own, but others were books he seemed to have pulled down from the shelves at random. There were texts on historical figures, facts and figures, philosophy, and even some novels that Jonathan suspected had been private indulgences of the dowager viscountess. Of course, Noah didn’t yet have the skill to read those books, so they were of no harm to him. Still, he glared up at Jonathan from the center of the pile, and the ugly look on his face reminded Jonathan of the boy he had met when he had first moved into this house. Angry. Hostile.
“You can’t tell me what to do,” Noah announced. “You’re not my father.”
