I suspected he felt the same. Despite what he’d said, I felt fairly confident we would come together again. Meanwhile, that passionate event didn’t change the routine of my days, though I approached my duties with renewed purpose. If I couldn’t influence the stubborn Sir Richard to believe he wasn’t responsible for his wife’s suicide, I might at least reach his sons. I was determined to make some impact on this family and help them heal. Whitney and Clive as a single unit were impossible to breach. The boys would confide in no one but each other. However, I perceived Whit was the weaker link. He was the first to soften toward me, and I believed he liked me. If I could get him away from Clive’s influence for a time, he might crack and release the infection of blame that tormented both him and his brother. While I waited for the right opportunity to arise, I often thought about Lavinia Allinson, wife, mother, ghostly spirit. I considered what I’d learned of her death, but also recalled the dark entity in Clive’s drawings and Tom’s depictions of evil.
