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PROLOGUE
Jacob hated funerals. No one liked them, he was certain of that, but somehow, all that was wrong with his world had coalesced into one single event the day he’d buried his father and become Baron Robinson.
Not that he hadn’t known that his mother was part of why his particular world was so awful. But she’d stood next to his father’s grave, her elaborately designed dress stitched with layer upon layer of the finest lace dyed black, staring down at the grave with a marked frown. She’d not cried, nor had she said a single word of comfort to him.
She did hold the hand of his younger brother who’d stared sightlessly at the grave below. Eric wasn’t a bad brother as brothers went, but their mother did everything in her power to pit them against each other. Like now, holding Eric’s hand and not his.
On his other side had stood his best friend and the most steadying force in the world, Ashton Cranston.
Jacob drew in a deep breath, Ashton giving him a near imperceptible nod of comfort. Which was the only reason he managed to keep a blank stare when his mother had turned to him, the dirt not even covering his father’s grave, as she’d softly hissed, “I expect you to uphold your father’s treatment of me.”
He knew what she meant. Money. Always money with her. “Whatever do you mean, Mother? Could you be referring to the level of affection the two of you clearly shared?” His mother made no bones about the fact that she despised her husband. They’d been matched by their families. Poorly.
His mother, who wished to spend money without any limits, despised that her husband did the same. His mother was right in this one regard. Jacob’s father had been awful at running the finances. A fact that Jacob was going to have to right. His stomach clenched with dread knowing the uphill battle he faced.
“You know very well that I am used to a certain standard of living,” she hissed, ignoring the other guests that went by. She wasn’t foolish enough to be overheard but she didn’t grace them with even a nod either. It was always all about her.
“You’ll have to learn to live differently, Mother. Now that Father is dead, his debts are being called in. There is no choice.” Jacob glanced over at his friend so see Ashton softly greeting guests on their behalf as Jacob conducted this lovely little back and forth with his mother.
She’d sneered. “This wouldn’t be happening if Eric were the heir.”
Ashton’s hand gave him the slightest tap on the shoulder. Jacob knew his best friend was silently comforting him and from his position could hear every word, unlike the rest of the guests.
“I fail to see how Eric would have stopped our father from becoming indebted.”
“He’d take care of me,” she pushed out through clenched teeth. At five and thirty, his mother was still a great beauty, with flawless skin and large green eyes. Eyes that he shared. He briefly wondered what other parts of her lived inside him.
“Of course he would. And so will I,” he murmured, staring back at the coffin.
“Don’t listen,” Ash had whispered, having stepped closer to Jacob’s side. “She’s too selfish to see what a good man you are.”
“Thank you,” he whispered back. “I think I’m going to need a glass of whiskey after this.” Maybe the entire bottle. Anything to numb the loss of his father and the nagging doubt his mother didn’t care a lick about him.
What else might drown the pain pulsing through his chest?
Ten years later, he stood at a second funeral, no more comfortable than he’d been on the day he’d buried his father.
First, standing over another grave reminded him of all the choices he’d made during the last decade.
Financially, he’d made progress. Personally, however…
Jacob stood on the outskirts of a different funeral. Now it was Ash’s turn to bury not just one parent but both of his parents.
And despite the fact they’d drifted apart over the past ten years, Jacob living on the outskirts of society as he worked through his father’s debt and Ashton in the middle of the ton, Ash continued to be kind and helpful. He’d even aided Jacob in a few business ventures that had done a great deal to reduce the heavy burden Jacob carried.
Which was why he’d come today. Ash still deserved his allegiance and his support.
But something was very wrong because Ash wasn’t here today. He was not attending his parents’ funeral. Unlike Jacob’s family, Ash loved his parents and his sister, and he’d take great pains to see them cared for.
Where was his friend?
Ashton’s sister, Emily Cranston, stood alone over the two graves. He was struck first by her straight, dignified posture, and next by the tears that, despite the black veil that covered her eyes, still appeared on her cheeks and chin. Her lips quivered as she took several noticeable gulps.
He watched guests file past her, he noted the way, even through the grief, she held their hands, kissed their cheeks, thanked them for their support, offered them comfort.
He’d never seen a woman so young act with such kindness and grace. She stole his breath with how warmly dignified she looked there while standing all alone.
After a decade, he’d still not cleared his father’s debt entirely, and his relationship with his mother was more contentious then ever. He had enough problems still to sink a man.
