That was all he needed, in truth. Advice.
The longer this mess of his had gone on, the more he regretted how he had behaved. He could have done the whole thing differently and been happier throughout, but instead, he had been guided by his guilt, which was now compounded by the guilt of how he had acted because of his original guilt.
Guilt and shame, shame and guilt; whichever way he looked at it, or attempted to do so, it always came back to those things.
What he wouldn’t give for moments of joy.
He blinked as he realized Knightsgate was before him now, and he pushed his horse a little harder, the hooves pounding against the gravel beneath them with a crunch that was oddly soothing to his ears. Something about the slight echo to it, the clipped edges, satisfied his drive to act enough to settle him. It wasn’t much, riding here to ask for help, but it was a step toward progress, which was more than he had done yet.
A tall footman stepped out of the house, moving into the gravel drive and clasping his hands behind him as Thomas approached.
He pulled up before the man and dismounted easily. “Good morning. Thomas Granger to see his lordship, if he is available.”
“Yes, Mr. Granger, of course.” The footman nodded briskly, moving forward to take the reins of the horse. “Mr. Hudson is waiting for you just inside, sir.”
“Thank you.” Thomas turned for the house, stripping his gloves off and removing his hat as he jogged up the few steps to the door where, as promised, the stout butler of Knightsgate awaited him. “Hudson, good to see you again.”
Hudson bowed in perfect deference, smiling politely. “A pleasure to welcome you back, Mr. Granger. I trust you seek out his lordship?”
“Indeed I do,” Thomas told him, smiling himself. “Is he in? And available?”
“He is both, sir,” Hudson replied easily, gesturing toward the house. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to him.”
Thomas followed without another word, smiling to himself at the clatter he heard above him, followed by a series of giggles. Lord Montgomery had four children from his first marriage, all of whom adored their stepmother, and another two boys had joined them, though the youngest was still very much an infant. No matter how fine a place Knightsgate was, or how stately the title its owner bore, there was no shortage of laughter, mischief, and fun within its walls.
In Thomas’s opinion, the place was even more perfect for that.
“Mr. Granger, my lord,” Hudson intoned once they had reached the study.
Thomas fixed an easy smile on his features as he crossed into the room, stretching out his hand toward the taller man standing behind a desk. “Monty.”
“Granger,” Monty greeted, surprise rampant on his features as he shook his hand hard, fair eyes wide. “This is a surprise.”
“Not unpleasant, I hope,” Thomas ventured with a hint of a wince.
Monty shook his head. “Of course not. Thank you, Hudson, that will be all.”
Hudson nodded, shutting the door to the study as he left them.
“Have a seat, please,” Monty urged, crossing over to the sideboard. “Brandy?”
“Thank you.” Thomas moved to the nearest chair and sat, relieved to find himself surprisingly relaxed now that he was here. Monty was an imposing man, sometimes appearing more statue than human, and formality lent itself to him well. But he had always been fair in business and in manner, his loyalty to Lily admirable and gracious without extending to hatred of Thomas.
That was fortunate indeed.
Monty returned, two tumblers in hand and gave one to Thomas before taking the unoccupied chair opposite him. “What can I do for you, Granger? I presume this isn’t a mere social call, given you haven’t brought Lily.”
“I’m afraid that is so, though I intend to do better, by and by.” Thomas toasted him with his brandy before sipping slowly. “Is all well with Beth and the children? I understand the birth of your youngest could not have been better, all things considered.”
“Short of removing the pain and distress of the mother, yes, it was rather straightforward.” Monty shook his head, scoffing to himself. “Even then, Beth claimed it wasn’t that arduous, which I find hard to believe. Still, Francis is a pleasant baby and rarely gives either Beth or me moments of trouble.” He surveyed Thomas over the rim of his glass. “You and Lily are well?”
“Perfectly so, I thank you.” The statement had come forth on its own, years of practice placing it at the tip of his tongue as the standard response. Given the subject of his impending conversation, something within him twinged at what wasn’t as truthful a statement as it ought to have been.
They were in good health, it was true, but neither of them were perfectly happy. Wasn’t the nature of well-being to encompass health and happiness?
He had only ever given his wife one of those things.
“Now that we’ve exchanged pleasantries, would you care to enlighten me as to your true purpose?”
Thomas glanced up to find Monty still watching him, eyes narrowed, barest hint of a smile evident at the corner of his mouth.
“I need help.”
Monty blinked, expression blank. “With what?”
“My wife.”
It was a simple statement, but the weight of each word was enough to sink a boulder into the pit of Thomas’s stomach.
“Is something wrong?” Monty asked carefully, crossing one leg over the other, shadows of a furrow forming on his brow.
Thomas nodded once. “My marriage.”
Monty exhaled a short, irritated burst of air. “Granger, I am not about to help you rid yourself of your marriage to my cousin. That is on your own head, and if you want anything
