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“Is all well, soldier?” Forte asked suddenly, making William bite the inside of his lip. Though it was the simplest of questions, it caused his heart to clench, reminding him all too well of why he was even standing there in the first place.
“Sergeant, I must request my discharge due to a telegram I have received from back home,” William said through gritted teeth. It had to be better just to come out with it rather than just dragging things out, but it didn’t exactly feel it to him.
Sergeant Forte did not respond immediately, though William could feel the man still watching him as though the papers on his desk were far less important now that something else had caught his attention.
“I cannot just discharge a soldier because he has requested it, Officer Talbot,” Forte explained, and William could feel the interest coming off the man in waves. “What exactly is the reasoning for your wishing to be discharged from duty? Is there something I need to be made aware of among the men?”
“Oh, no! Nothing like that, Sergeant!” William exclaimed, finally lifting his gaze to meet the other man’s eyes. He quickly shook his head to illustrate what he had said before he continued, “I have received word that my brother has died, and I request to be discharged to return home and tie up all affairs surrounding his death.”
As expected, the sergeant did not look the least bit phased by the news of a death. A man in his position had seen enough of it not to be surprised by a single one anymore. After all, what did it matter to him that some nobleman back in France had died when men were dying around him every single day?
Yet William was relieved when he saw at least a little sympathy in the man’s eyes. “I can put your request in, Officer Talbot, but I cannot promise that it will be approved, and it might take some time to get approval anyway.”
“I am aware that the process can be a long one,” William said, his gut churning at the thought of having to continue to fight alongside his fellow soldiers when all he could think of was returning home to what remained of his family, to see his father, and be sure that the grief had not become too much for them. He could only imagine how his father had reacted to the death of his eldest and most beloved son.
“Might I see the telegram, Officer Talbot?” the sergeant asked then, holding out his hand with expectation. With little other choice but to obey the request that was really more of a command, William stepped forward and removed the telegram from where he had shoved it into the breast pocket of his jacket. He placed it in the older man’s hand and waited with bated breath for the sergeant to look it over.
As though he was satisfied with whatever he had been looking for in the telegram, he gave a small grunt and placed it back in William’s hand. “I shall see what I can do. Until then, return to your post.”
Knowing he had little option but to continue to follow orders, William saluted the sergeant and quickly made his exit from the tent. It wasn’t until he had walked away and turned a corner, finding a quiet spot between two tents, that he stopped and removed the telegram from his breast pocket once more.
Reading it for what felt like the hundredth time, he tried to get the news to finally sink in, but even after several hours, he found he was still in shock. To him, his brother was still in France or even London, an image of him sitting at his desk in his study. Going over whatever papers were important to the heir of an Earldom was all William could see whenever he thought of him.
That was how he so often found his brother, working on this or that, making sure that he was the good and dutiful son his father had always expected him to be. And yet now that desk chair sat empty, its owner would never again grace its seat. Dust would collect upon all the heir’s things until a new one arose to take his place.
I cannot replace my brother,William thought grimly, though he knew all too well that was exactly what would be expected of him. There wasn’t a single person on earth who could ever replace his brother; no matter how hard one tried, it was impossible to be quite so perfect as Stewart Junior Talbot.
Chapter 1
Returning to France several months after the death of his brother was a real shock to William’s system. Though he had grown used to the grief that still haunted his heart, and it was now manageable, he was not so well prepared for Paris itself as he had expected himself to be. The hustle and bustle of the docks were quite the opposite of the busy workings of the war barracks to which he had become accustomed.
Though he was used to dodging horses and carts, he was not quite so prepared for the fishmongers and other business owners of the market stalls through which he had to walk to find a carriage to take him to his father’s townhouse on the other side of the city.
By the time he managed to find his way to his father’s residence, he was more flustered than he had been throughout his entire time in the United States. Even in the carriage, the noise of Paris had been entirely strange to him, and he was so exhausted by the time he arrived on the porch steps of Talbot House that he would have liked nothing more than to bathe and climb into a warm, clean bed for a change.
Instead, he found himself immediately dragged before his father. The earl was situated in his library at his desk in the same position that William had imagined both him and his brother over the last year or so before his brother’s untimely death.
For all his life, his father had been a workaholic, and he had passed down the trait to his eldest son. Although William knew the importance of hard work, he was also well aware of the other parts of one’s life that could be neglected during such matters.
“William! Come in, my dear boy!” his father greeted him as soon as the butler showed him into the room. Offering the butler a nod of gratitude, he stepped into the room to greet his father with a bow.
“Father, forgive me for not arriving sooner,” William stated, standing to attention before his father’s desk, feeling a little put off by his father's barely even looking up from his desk. “I am sure that you understand.”
“I am certain that I understand that this war is a farce, and men’s attentions would be much better served elsewhere,” his father announced loudly and with great conviction. William cringed at his father’s words, feeling slightly demeaned at the thought he had been fighting in said farce for what felt like an age.
“Well, I am here now,” William pointed out, trying to force a little cheer into his voice, even though he felt more than a little let down by the reunion. As though he sensed it in his son, the Earl of Hervordshire finally looked up from the papers in front of him and offered a smile.
“And I am glad for it!” the salt and pepper-haired earl exclaimed, “I am in dire need of your help!”
William gulped past the sudden lump in his throat. Though he had been preparing himself for whatever his father would throw at him when he arrived, he wasn’t sure he could ever have prepared himself enough. Taking over as heir would be no easy task. His brother had not left easy boots to fill. Already, even before he had arrived in France, they were feeling too heavy to bear.
“I will do whatever I can, Father,” William assured him, bowing his head respectfully. “I only wish I had been here sooner for the funeral and such.”
“Well, that is all over with now! We can talk of such things later when there are less pressing matters to attend to,” the earl insisted, waving a hand in the air as though he wished to wave away all mention of any such thing. “We must look to the future, to installing you as my heir and ensuring that the future of our line continues long after we ourselves are gone.”
William immediately did not like where the conversation was headed. He gritted his teeth, knowing that whatever his father had in mind, he would be unable to change it.
“Perhaps we ought to start with the little things?” William suggested, knowing he had absolutely no idea where to start when it came to being the heir. Of course, he was well aware he would have no engagements and events to attend and a certain attitude he would have to give off to all society, but he had no idea where to begin when it came to being as good as his brother had been.
