Page 159 of The Viscount’s Vice

“I was beginning to fear it wasn't possible,” Lenora admitted.

“Anything is possible with love.” Lady Asquith paused. “Although sometimes the right word in the right ear helps.”

“Currency of gossip,” Lenora murmured.

“Like gardening, but with people.” Lady Asquith’s gaze moved toward the portrait of her husband. “Always be listening. Your father taught me that, Simon.”

“Fathers,” Asquith said on a rueful note. “Fathers were the common theme in everything that happened tonight.”

Lenora frowned. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“My exhausted darling, if you sit, I will explain.”

Keeping his account confined to facts until he reached the part concerning Hampton and Eltenham, he told them both what had happened at the lodge.

“Hampton,” he said, “stood by Preston despite his struggles, and Preston eventually did the right thing. Eltenham looked away from his son's conduct for too long. Willard’s cruel hunger only grew. And then, when looking away was no longer possible, Eltenham eliminated the problem. Brutally.”

“Two fathers.” Lenora shivered. “Two very different outcomes.”

As if by instinct, they all looked to the late Lord Asquith’s portrait.

“Both Hampton and Eltenham told me my father was good.” Simon met his mother’s gaze. “In the last few days, I have come to understand what goodness means.”

Lady Asquith’s brow furrowed. “I’m surprised Eltenham said as much.”

“His comment was slightly snide,” Simon admitted.

Lady Asquith sighed deeply. “Simon, after you were sent home from school, your father understood the burden you were carrying.”

Simon tilted his head. “I never said a word.”

“Good parents know when their children are suffering,” his mother quietly answered. “Perhaps not specifics, but they know. Your father was always sorry he hadn't prepared you better. But, as you refused to confide the details, he had to surmise.”

Simon frowned. “What did he do?”

“He told Eltenham he would kill Willard himself if the boy ever touched you again.”

His eyes went wide. “He threatened Willard’s life?”

The dowager nodded. “Just because he was kind does not mean he let anyone cross him.” She paused. “Or his son.”

Lenora ran her hand comfortingly up and down Simon’s back. He appeared stunned.

“I always assumed that goodness was simply part of my father’s nature,” he said. “I’d realized I’d missed something, but I never suspected...”

“Gentleness is by nature,” Lady Asquith corrected. “Goodness is by choice. Your father stood firm when necessary.” She glanced at the portrait. “When financial scandal rocked the nation, your father chose decency...and at a terribly high price.”

“Would you have had it any different?” Lenora asked.

Lady Asquith turned. “Would you have wanted Simon to leave Neville to his fate?”

“No,” Lenora decided. “That’s not the kind of man Simon chooses to be.”

“Exactly,” Lady Asquith replied. She turned back to her son. “Your father was not good because goodness came easily or because he thought the world was gentle.”

Lenora recalled Eliza’s declaration—fear is the impetus of courage.

“He was afraid and yet he acted,” she said.