The Theft (Thornton 2)

Among the portraits.

And by his side.

* * *

Dusk settled over Northampton.

The carriage rounded Markham's broad, circular drive, coming to a purposeful stop.

Daphne looked up from the novel she was reading and peered out the window of the green salon before turning to her husband, who was seated in an armchair, penning some new entries in a ledger.

"At last," she announced, rising from the settee.

Pierce's head came up, his brows drawing together in question. "At last—what?"

"At last, our son is here. I was wondering how long it would take him to come to Markham." She crossed over, perched on the arm of Pierce's chair. "Darling, it's you he'll want to see."

Slowly, Pierce shut the ledger, placed it aside. "You think he's here about Noelle?"

"I know he is." Daphne sighed, intertwining her fingers with Pierce's. "I can still remember your anguish when you faced this decision. Why must all things come full circle—good and bad alike? Why isn't it possible for parents to spare their children the pain they themselves endured?"

"Because only by enduring that pain can our children experience the joys that lie beyond it," Pierce replied, bringing their joined hands to his lips, kissing Daphne's fingertips. "Don't worry, Snow Flame. The fact that Ashford's here means he knows what he wants."

"Help him attain it," Daphne appealed softly. "Help him to have what we have."

Pierce's eyes darkened with emotion. "Consider it done."

Leaning down, Daphne brushed her husband's lips with hers. "I don't care how many years have elapsed," she whispered. "You're still the very best at answering prayers."

She was halfway to the door when Ashford strode in.

"Hello, Mother," he said with a weary smile.

Daphne leaned up, kissed her son's cheek. "You look exhausted. Have you eaten?"

"Now that I consider it, no." He dragged a hand through his hair. "At least not since noontime."

"I'll have a tray sent in. You sit down, relax, and have a talk with your father." She continued on her way.

"Mother?"

Daphne paused in the doorway. "Yes?"

"Aren't you going to ask why I'm here?"

A profound smile. "No."

She shut the door in her wake.

Ashford stared at the closed door for a long moment. Then he turned back to his father. "I take it you've been expecting me?"

Pierce grinned, gestured for his son to take a seat. "Your mother's been waiting for days now."

"She's amazing." Ashford perched at the edge of the settee, gripping his knees and meeting his father's gaze.

"Do you want to discuss the investigation first?" Pierce inquired, crossing one long leg over the other. "Or shall we defer that issue and get right to the main purpose of your visit?"

"The latter." Taking a deep breath, Ashford plunged into his dilemma, wasting no time on preliminaries or diversions. "I've been decisive since I was born, clearheaded since I could think, and unswerving since I could crawl. Why the hell am I floundering now?"