Page 24 of A Rogue to Reform

“No, I have early matters to see to. Perhaps soon.”

Meeting his brother’s gaze, warmth filled him. “Thank you.”

It was eerily quiet when Evan walked into his home. No one greeted him at the door, and he wondered if his hired help had finally had enough and left.

“Mister Macleod.” Norman appeared, his craggy face breaking into a smile. “There is a matter in the dining room that demands your attention.”

He was not in the mood for another leaking roof, or floor in need of repair. However, ignoring what happened was not going to help either.

“I will be there shortly,” he replied, removing his coat and scarf. Once the items were hung over the back of a chair, he took a breath and walked to the dining room.

“Surprise!” A chorus of voices made him take a step backward. “Happy birthday, dear lad,” his mother exclaimed, hurrying to him and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

His father, more reserved, neared and patted his shoulder. “Happy birthday, Evan.”

“Why do you catch me unaware every single year?” he asked, genuinely happy to see everyone. It was then he noticed Richard was there as well. He must have rounded the house and entered through the kitchen.

On the table was a fruit torte, as well as a spread of his favorite breakfast foods. It had been a family tradition to have a festive breakfast for him and his brother.

Evan had totally forgotten it was his birthday, and now he was glad to have gotten up so early to head home.

It was almost as if all the bottled-up heaviness was removed from him in that moment, and he almost melted against his brother when he came forward and hugged him. “I am glad to have been late and collected you,” Richard whispered.

Grant descended the stairs and joined them as they all sat to eat. It was delightful to hear the lively conversation around the table as they chatted about this and that. As per usual, the discussion of past birthdays surfaced, and soon they laughed as the different antics of his childhood were brought up.

It was hard to not blurt out that he wished for nothing more than for more mornings like that.

While they shared the torte and their teacups were refilled, his mother placed a box in front of him. “From your father and me.”

His father met his gaze and winked, letting him know he had no idea what was in the box.

It was a beautifully crafted pair of gloves and a scarf. “They are just perfect. I needed them very much.”

His brother gifted him a new pair of riding boots, and he was also gifted embroidered handkerchiefs from the Macleod staff.

The meal ended much too soon, as everyone had to see to their daily duties. His father and brother to the business and his mother to whatever her social obligations were that day.

“Mother,” Evan asked before they left. “Are you friendly with Missus Murray?”

“Yes,” his mother exclaimed. “I will be seeing her today actually at a tea. Why do you ask?”

He looked over to ensure Grant did not overhear. “Will you inquire about Felicity? I heard she left Sorcha Robertson’s home in a state last night.”

His mother gave him a quizzical look and then glanced toward Grant. “He should see about his sister and family, not rely on others. I sincerely do not understand either you or his stubbornness when it comes to family.” Pressing a kiss to his cheek, she allowed him to help with her cloak. “I will inquire and send you word.”

“Thank you.”

He walked his parents to the front door and once again hugged his mother. Just as his father left, he handed him an envelope. “See about all the repairs needed. It is part of your portion of the family investments on the last shipment. Consider returning to work with me and your brother this Season. There is more work than we can handle.”

The direct look from his father left no argument, and for the first time in a long time, he felt the urge to accept and finally apologize.

“Come along, Robert,” his mother said, breaking the spell.

His father patted his shoulder. “Do not overthink it, son.”

Evan nodded. “Thank you.”

Remaining at the doorway as the carriages ambled away, the envelope stuffed with money clutched in his hand brought more emotions than he was ready to deal with. It was obvious even without looking that his father had been overly generous. In the past, he would have not accepted it; he would have allowed pride to ensure his father he did not need it.