Both John and Luke looked around, as if they expected the earl to answer. But of course, John's father was not there. John was Lord Merritt now. All at once, the mantle of the earlship seemed to fall on him. His back straightened, his eyes hardened, and his tone was subdued as he responded, “Send word to Rosecrest that I am coming as quickly as I possibly can.” The man nodded, then ran across the sand once more.
For one brief moment, John let his shoulders sag, “Papa is dead,” he whispered.
Before Luke could attempt comforting him, the clip-clop of horse hooves reached their ears. “Gots y’er horse ‘ight here!” the sailor called out, leading Lightning down the gangway.
In a daze, John reached for the reins. “I hope you are ready to run, girl,” he whispered as he mounted. The mare was young, and much smaller than Nimbus, but she had a great deal of cooped up energy. She would do well for the quick journey.
“I doubt your mother will complain about you bringing home a horse!” Luke called up to him, trying to add some humor to the difficult situation, but it did not help. “Go! I will bring your things and meet you at Rosecrest.” John nodded as he kicked the horse into motion. While they had kept their feelings at bay long enough to form a plan, tears streamed down the faces of both men as the new earl rode away.
The messenger informing of John’s arrival reached Rosecrest just a few minutes before the earl did. It did not give the servants sufficient time to line up outside the front door and welcome in their new master. It did, however, give Mother and Clara enough notice to greet him at the foyer.
“John!” Mother yelled, pulling her son into a long embrace. “Oh, John, I am so glad you are safe.”
“How are you faring, Mother?” he whispered into her hair. John’s usual playfulness was gone. His voice held only sympathy and seriousness.
“Well enough,” the countess whispered. “I am sure things will be better now that you are here.”
“Luke should be here soon,” John informed as the embrace ended. “He stayed behind for the luggage.”
Clara expected to be filled with dread having to interact with the man she rejected, but she had slowly learned to close off her heart. Becoming numb was the only way to dull the pain.
“Clara.” John’s voice was full of pity as he pulled his sister into an embrace. She closed her eyes, and for a moment, it felt almost as if her father was the one with his arms wrapped around her.
John was not necessarily the same build as Father had been. So why did he feel like him? She pulled him in a bit closer, and as her head pushed against his riding jacket, she knew the answer. “You smell like Papa,” Clara thought aloud.
Where usually John would have laughed, his words were emotionless. “I smell like a horse.”
“Yes.” Clara took a step backwards. “Yes, I suppose that is it.”
“John!” Everett’s slimy voice greeted from the floor above. “Good to see you, old chap.”
John did not bother with a greeting. “Pack your things and leave. If you are still here by the time I have changed for dinner, you will suffer severe consequences.”
“But-” Everett tried to make an excuse, but John had already walked away.
For some reason, Clara had expected things to change when John showed up. He was known for making people laugh, so she thought he would bring a spark of hope to Rosecrest. But the man she had just seen was nothing like her older brother.That is because you just caught a glimpse of the Earl of Faversham, her brain concluded. But Papa had never acted so stiffly.
Give it time,she reminded herself,John has only just learned the news.In a way, Clara was jealous. She wished she too had been left in ignorance, for then, at least in her imagination, Papa would have had another month to live. The wave of grief hit her again, knocking her into the stormy sea of sorrow. The current was strong, and tossed her repeatedly under the water, leaving her gasping for air.
Mr. Merritt took John’s threat rather seriously, and was out within minutes. As such, John decided to skip dinner and requested a tray in the study. There was a lot of work to be done and things to be sorted. Luke arrived several hours after dark, but the new Lord Merritt was still engrossed in paperwork.
“What can I do?” the baron asked as he joined him.
“The stack on the tea table is yours,” John responded without looking up from the piece of parchment in his hand.
John’s father had been tending to Luke’s barony during his absence, so it, too, had been neglected since his passing. Both men had estate managers, but there were some things that could only be done by a landowner. Luke looked through his stack of paper. It was much smaller than John’s, but still a great deal of information. He would have to go back to Maxwell Manor soon and make sure everything was running smoothly. He would stay to help John as long as possible, but he could not shirk his own duties forever.
The majority of the papers were outdated at this point, showing what the late earl had done before his passing. An envelope at the bottom of the stack caught his attention. “To My Son, Luke” it said on the front. He pulled the letter opener from John’s desk and sliced the seal. The note inside read:
Luke,
I am sorry to leave this world without giving you a proper goodbye, but I wish to make it clear that I have always loved you like a son. You are an amazing and kind man, and an excellent provider and protector. I do not know what your future holds, but I assure you I would have loved your wife with all my heart. Care for her. Love her with all your strength, and remind her daily how important she is to you.
Never forget that I love you,
Papa
Such a heartfelt note brought Luke to tears, and it was in this sobby state that Clara entered the study. “I have come to say goodnight,” she addressed her brother, but then her eyes caught sight of Luke. “Oh, Luke you are here and you are … crying?” She remained in the doorway.
