Author's note: thanks for your feedback. Silvergirl, I have fixed my error, thank you. Also, I was informed there is another Lynley story from a few years ago with a similar title. This was a coincidental and unintended oversight on my part as I do not usually scroll through first to check titles but I might in future.

As Tommy climbed the stairs, he wished it was Matt he needed to confront. His second son was much more robust than his eldest. Not only did he look like Barbara with his red hair and stockier build but he had her straight-talking street sense. Matt was a pragmatist whereas James was more of a romantic, carried away with lofty ideals and often unrealistic notions of how people should behave. Matt took what came at him and dealt with it.

Tommy smiled thinking about their father-son talks. With his eldest it had been awkward as James had been more interested in trying to understand how you knew if you were in love. Matt had only wanted to know the mechanics of it all. So it had not surprised him two months ago when Matt had come to him just before his sixteenth birthday to tell him that as soon as he was of age, he intended to start sleeping with his girlfriend and wanted to know how to use a condom correctly. What had shocked him though was that Matt had told him he loved his girlfriend, who was also a virgin, and so wanted to make it special for her too. There was no debate or uncertainty. He openly asked for suggestions as to how he could make love so that she enjoyed it. It had been an easy conversation, and Tommy had been proud of his son.

He was proud of James too. He was smart and had good prospects for his future. He wanted to be an academic and had told Tommy how he could work his love of medieval history around his duties as Earl when the time arose. Even though they got on well, James had always been harder for him to relate to than the other boys, possibly because they were, in many ways, so similar. James had inherited many of the traits Tommy most hated in himself which probably explained why Barbara and James were close. He loved all his sons dearly, but he related best to Matt, who shared so many of Barbara's characteristics. James adored his mother and Tommy knew how much it would have affected his son to see him with another woman. He did not want James to hate him and dreaded the following conversation.

"James," he said as knocked on his son's door, "we need to talk."

There was no answer, so he opened the door and went in. His son was lying on his bed staring blankly at the ceiling. He made no attempt to look at Tommy, who glanced around the room. Everything was neat and correctly ordered. James had no posters on his wall, only black framed photos of the family and Michaela beside his framed academic awards. His son's tennis trophies were on the shelf above an antique, roll-top desk. One of the suits of armour from Howenstowe that had belonged to an early Lynley, well before they were aristocrats, stood proudly in the corner beside a bookshelf crammed with books on the Middle Ages.

Tommy sat on the bed beside his son. "Mum told me what happened."

"I know. The whole of Belgravia probably heard you."

Tommy felt his face flush. He had not meant for his sons to hear them arguing. He handed James' phone to him. "I'm not having an affair, James. It was a stupid thing to do, but it was just a friendly gesture. I have never been unfaithful to your mother. I'd give my life to keep her, or any of you, safe and I'm truly sorry that I've hurt you both."

James lifted himself onto his elbows. "That's it I suppose. I'm expected to believe you and forget what I saw. Well, I can't Dad. You have no idea how everything just...died. It was like my whole life was a lie; as if the world stopped and I was being thrown off."

Tommy reached out to his son and put his hand on his shoulder. "No, I don't expect you just to accept it. The woman you saw had helped me, and I was grateful. I gave her a friendly shoulder hug because I was happy. It was an error of judgement, but it meant nothing. It wasn't sexual in any way."

"You've been fighting more lately. We've all heard you. Mum's lost her spark, and you're hugging other women. What am I supposed to think?"

Tommy looked at his feet. He did not believe they were arguing more, but they probably weren't hiding it the way they had when the children were small. It was hard to explain that the bickering was part of who they were as a couple, one of the ways they worked through issues. And he certainly could not tell his son how loving they were afterwards.

"What do you want me to do James? I can't undo what you saw. I can only put it into context for you and assure nothing happened. I love your mother more than life itself. Our arguments aren't what you think. I just want you to understand."

James sat up and pushed past his father. He walked across the room and sank into his high, leather desk chair. "No Dad. I want you to understand. I thought you were everything I wanted to be - kind, loving, loyal - but I don't know you do I? I just have some childish image of my great dad. But you have feet of clay, and that hurts. It hurts like hell because I don't know if I can trust you anymore."

"James, I've always tried my best to be a good husband and father, but I'm human. I make mistakes. If you knew how many times in my life I've made poor choices, you'd think I was a complete fool. Without your mother to keep me sane and balanced I'd be lost."

"This afternoon I hated you. When I saw Mum's face as she looked at those photos, I wanted to kill you."

Tommy straightened up. He had heard from so many of his friends about moments where sons challenge their fathers. "I would have hated me too."

"Stop being reasonable. I wanted to hate you, but I ended up hating myself."

Tommy watched his son carefully. "Because you told your mother or because you thought it was your fault?"

"Because of the way it made me feel. I was angry and took that out on Michaela, and now she won't talk to me. I wanted revenge. I wanted to out you, to shame you and instead, all I did was hurt Mum. It didn't make me feel any better. What if I'm responsible for you getting divorced and being miserable? How do I live with that when I could have said nothing and everyone would have been fine?"

"Except you. It would have eaten away at you."

"Better to ruin my life than everyone else's. "

"No James, you can't take on everybody's burdens. You made the right choice. Your mum and I will be okay. We always are. It might just take us a little while this time but we love each other, and that won't change."

"You've never faced that choice. How do you know what I did was right? It doesn't feel correct."

"Can I tell you a story?" James shrugged. "When I was your age my father was dying. Everyone was upset of course. I was in the garden because I needed time to think. At seventeen I wasn't ready to lose him. I loved him, and I was too young to become Earl. I looked up and saw my mother in the window embracing someone. I ran inside thinking it was my father. I raced into the room and found her kissing the doctor. When you said it felt like the world had stopped and thrown you off, that was exactly how I felt. I tore from the room and went and hid. Mother never found me, and I thought she hadn't looked, but she had."

"Granny!" James looked mortified. "Was unfaithful?"

"Yes, she hadn't slept with him then, but yes, in a way she was."

"Oh, Dad!"

"I'm sorry to give her feet of clay too James, but I want you to understand that we're all human." He watched his son carefully as he continued his story. "While I was alone, I vowed I would leave and never return. So I went and said goodbye to my father. I couldn't tell him why. I made an excuse about school and said I would see him next week, but we both knew I wouldn't. He died the next day, without me there."

James came and sat next to his father. "She was actually kissing him?"

"Passionately. I felt guilty for finding Mother, guilty that my father died and I wasn't there, guilty about everything. I turned that into hatred of her and worse still I loathed myself. We barely spoke for seventeen years. In all that time she stayed with the doctor. He repeatedly asked to marry her, but she refused because of my reaction. I stopped her from being happy. When we finally started to see each other when I was going to be married to my first wife, I realised I had been selfish. I forgave her, and told her she should marry him."

"But she didn't, did she?"

"No, he died soon afterwards."

"But she was still wrong Dad."

"Was she? Mother loved my father, but she needed to feel loved. I can understand that because I spent the next twenty years searching for the same thing. I never found peace until I was with your mother. Love is not always black and white. Anyway, the point was that I do know how you felt. I ran away from it, but you were able to confront it, to sort it out before it festered for everyone. It was a very mature choice, and I'm proud of you James."

"But I hurt Mum!"

Tommy put his arm around his son. "No, I did. I never meant to, but I did, and it's up to me to fix that. You're not responsible for our relationship or our happiness."

"But if you..."

"We won't. Now, what about Michaela?"

James leant forward and ran his hands through his hair. "She won't talk to me."

Tommy could feel the boy's confused anguish. "Maybe if we drive over to her house she will understand you are sorry."

His son looked up hopefully. "Do you think it will work?"

"I think she'll see you, but then it's up to you. You have to explain what happened and convince her that you love her."

"Do I Dad? Matt's so sure with Jenny but how do I know Michaela is right for me?"

"You don't have to know. You can be in love with many women before you find the one you want to spend your life with but if you wait until you're sure, you might miss her. And how will you know if you've never had anyone to compare it with?"

"How did you know with Mum? Because it was the same as your first wife?"

Tommy laughed. "No, it was very different. Your mother and I worked together for years. We were close. We understood each other, balanced out each other's foibles. Then one day I looked over at her, and she smiled. There was nothing different to many other smiles over the years, but I suddenly knew I was in love with her. I had been for a very long time without even knowing it. She'd known for years that she loved me, but she'd never let on."

"She loved you, even though you were married?"

"You can't choose who and when you fall in love. She never let on. She was loyal to Helen and me."

"So what happened?"

"That night I asked her around here for dinner. I can't even remember the excuse I used. I was scared James, in case I was wrong about how she felt, but as we shared a joke in the kitchen, I kissed her. It turned quite fiery but for the first time since I was that scared seventeen-year-old, I felt at peace. I'm not giving that up James. It's worth fighting for."

"Did you sleep with her? That first night?"

Tommy wondered how much he should tell his son. "Yes, we were both adults and we knew, from that first kiss, that we were going to spend our lives together."

James nodded but Tommy could see he had something more on his mind. "What son?" he asked tenderly.

"You always said I was a month premature, but I wasn't was I?"

Tommy grinned at his son. "No, you weren't. You were conceived out of love. I had proposed before we did anything. I didn't marry your mother to be honourable; I married her because I loved her."

James smiled genuinely and with the eyes of an adult. "We should buy flowers. Can we get flowers so late?"

Tommy watched his son take a nervous breath then ring the doorbell. Michaela's mother answered. "James! Hello, Tommy. Come in."

"I need to see Michaela, Mrs. Smythe. I said things to hurt her, and she won't talk to me, but I want to make it right. I don't want her to go to bed believing what I said."

"I won't force her James, but I will tell her you're here."

Felicity Smythe left the room, and James looked anxiously at his father. "Just be honest with her."

His son smiled grimly. After a few minutes, Michaela appeared. She looked dreadful, but Tommy saw the way her son's eyes lit up and then the sorrow in them. "Michaela, I'm sorry. Can we talk?"

The girl accepted the flowers and nodded then turned and left the room. James trailed after her. Tommy looked across as Felicity and shrugged. "Young love."

"Sit down while we wait. Fancy a drink?"

"Thank you Flic, but no. It's been a difficult night at home."

"I'm sorry to hear that. James is a lovely boy. You and Barbara have done a great job with him. When Michaela met him and said he was your son, I expected the worst."

Tommy raised his eyebrows. He and Flic had been lovers briefly at Oxford. "I don't recall complaints at the time."

"None. I thought James might be like you though and bed anything that moved. I made sure Michaela went on the Pill thinking it might develop, but James has been the perfect gentleman, much to her frustration."

"Good to hear," Tommy said then smiled awkwardly. He did not need to know details. "I hear Ralph Coddington was promoted again."

They continued to talk about their old friends. Tommy glanced at his watch and saw it was getting late. He was about to suggest fetching James when the young couple re-appeared holding hands. Tommy was pleased for his son.

"Mrs. Smythe, Dad. Michaela and I...I intend to stay here tonight."

Tommy groaned inwardly, but Flic smiled almost triumphantly. "You're more than welcome James if your father has no objection."

Tommy could see the defiant challenge in his son's eyes. "Matthew can back your schoolbag. I'll collect you at seven-thirty to take you to school. A quick word though please James."

"Sure."

He led his son into the hall and put his hand on his shoulder. "If things develop tonight, just remember what I told you."

"Yeah, I know, look after her above everything."

"It's important James. I'll see you in the morning." He turned and called out his farewell to the women.

Tommy arrived home just before midnight. The bunch of flowers James had insisted he buy for Barbara were still fresh, but their rosy scent seemed a long way from his mood. He was tired. In an ideal world, he would just cuddle up to Barbara and sleep, but this was far from a typical night. He sighed and went inside.

Barbara was still in the drawing room. "How's James?"

"He's staying with Michaela tonight," he said as he handed her the flowers.

"He's what?" Barbara threw the flowers onto the couch.

"They made up, and he came out and announced he was staying."

Barbara was shocked at her son's boldness. "What did Flic say?"

"She was pleased I think. Apparently he has been the perfect gentleman until now, which has created some tension I think." Tommy hoped that Barbara's even mood was a good sign. "Flic said she had expected him to be like me."

"Yes, well we all know your history."

Tommy caught the edge to her voice. "Exactly, history."

"I'm surprised he waited. He's been so keen on her I felt sure they must have been at it."

"Been at it? Even Matt, in his brashness, treats it with more solemnity."

"Matt?"

"With Jenny."

"Matt's sleeping with Jenny? Oh, Tommy!" He looked at her. "You knew, and you didn't tell me!"

"He came to me before his sixteenth birthday for advice. It's legal. He assured me the girl was already sixteen. He was going to do it with or without my blessing. I was proud of him for telling me and asking about technique rather than just experimenting."

"Does Margaret know?"

"Margaret? The housekeeper. She might, but I doubt it. Why?"

"Do you know who Jenny is?"

"Someone from school I presume."

"For a detective, you are dumb sometimes. She's Margaret's daughter! Matt's been keen on her for a while, but I didn't know he was shagging her! For pity's sake!"

"Ah." Tommy might not have been so keen had he known.

Barbara stood up and stomped around the room, somewhat aimlessly. "That weekend, when we went to Howenstowe with Margaret and left Matt here. You set that up didn't you? Did our son have sex in our bed?"

"I didn't know it was Jenny Sonners I swear. I told him no parties and no sex anywhere except his room, and not to leave evidence. I thought it was better than having them sneaking somewhere or having hasty sex in a park." Tommy could see that was not reassuring his wife.

"I can't do this now! I'm going to bed. You can sleep here or in the bloody park for all I care! I'll deal with our over-sexed sons in the morning."

"They're not over-sexed. They're teenage boys."

"Oh, I suppose you'll tell me Eden's shagging the cat next! With your blessing!"

"We don't have a cat." He ducked as the remote control for the television flew past his ear, crashing into the grand piano. Barbara stormed from the room. He stood trying to think about what to say next when he heard their bedroom door slam shut. They had never let the night settle on an argument. He would give her some time to calm down then go up and talk to her. He poured a double Scotch then headed for the kitchen to put the flowers in water.

The fridge door was open, and Eden was standing in the light taking a slug from the milk carton. "What are you doing up young man?" he asked as happily as he could. "And what have we said about not drinking straight from the cartons?"

"I heard you and Mum shouting."

Tommy took a deep breath as he filled a vase with water from the tap. "It's a silly argument. We'll be okay. Do you want a glass?"

Eden nodded. "Are you getting a divorce?"

"No, we're not."

"But if you do, who gets me?" He had just turned thirteen, but he sounded five. Tommy had never seen his son cry unless he was physically hurt. To hear him sobbing now was too much; all the guilt of the night crashed in on him like a weight squeezing his chest. Tommy wrapped his arms around his son and held him tightly.

"You don't have to worry Eden, your mother and I will sort things out tomorrow."

"But if you can't, who gets me?" His son was insistent.

"If we can't resolve it, then I'll move out for a while, and you'll stay here with Mum and the boys. But it won't come to that."

"I want to go with you." The boy clung to him ferociously.

"I'm not going anywhere, Eden. I won't leave you, I promise."