Brockenhurst looked stricken. “She’s gone?”
Jack suddenly felt like an a*s, and yet he supposed he should be happy with the pain so clear in his father’s eyes. It had been obvious that his father had still felt something for his mother—the way he regretted having thrown her out, the way he was remembering her now. “Ten years ago,” Jack said quietly.
His father sat up. “You were just fifteen!” His eyes went wide. “Wait! That couldn’t be right. I met you. I saw you and your mother out one day about that long ago. I remember it so clearly. I almost didn’t recognize her, but then I saw you and I knew…”
Jack nodded. “It was just after that.” He could feel the tension in his jaw as he remembered that day. His mother had taken him out for a treat for his birthday, and they’d run into Lord Broc
