Godric didn’t smile, but his tone was calm and accepting. If Emily could forgive him, then he could certainly forgive his brother.
Jonathan visibly relaxed. Clearly he’d expected a fight.
“Sit down and eat.” Godric gestured to the fine breakfast on the sideboard.
Jonathan flushed, but bravely filled a plate and chose a seat next to Ashton, who smiled and gave a warm nod.
“You any good with a pistol, Jonathan?” Charles asked.
“More so with a flintlock rifle, but yes.” Jonathan swallowed a bite of jam-covered toast.
“Excellent. We’ll make a fine team, the three of us,” Cedric said.
“What time are we to leave?” Jonathan asked.
“By noon, we hope. Emily needs as much rest as we can manage to give her. The carriage ride will be unpleasant enough, as ill as she’s been.”
“Well, I suppose
