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Chapter 6
Alexander took a seat beside the Earl at the long dining table. The old man leaned over, pouring wine into his glass. His kind blue eyes twinkled.
“I hope you like merlot,” said the earl. “This is one of the finest bottles from my cellar. French. I imported two crates of it.”
Alexander picked up the glass, taking a sip. The wine was wonderful—full-bodied and rich. He gazed around the dining room. It was so big that his aunt’s entire cottage could fit within the space.
The Earl had given him a whirlwind tour of the place when he had arrived. There were so many rooms he had lost count and he was certain he would become lost if he wandered on his own. The whole time the earl had kept up a running commentary of the house, stopping to tell him about particular pieces of furniture or paintings and the history of the building.
The old man’s eyes had grown misty when they stopped at the end of a long row of oil portraits upon a wall. A portrait of a dark-haired man, probably in his thirties, and a small white-haired boy.
“My youngest son Charles and grandson William,” said the earl, his voice gruff with emotion. “This was commissioned not long before they both fell ill and died.” An awkward pause. “Shall we carry on?”
The tour had wrapped up after an hour. Then Alexander had been shown to his guest chambers. A green wall papered room with a large four poster bed in the centre of it. He could not even imagine sleeping within it. After changing for dinner, he had met the earl in the dining room for the evening meal. It was just the two of them, as the earl had promised.
“The wine is superb,” said Alexander, taking another sip. “Your daughter-in-law and granddaughter are in London, you said?”
The earl nodded. “They are purchasing gowns for my granddaughter’s coming season. My coffers shall be drained by the time they are done.” His blue eyes twinkled with mirth. “Olivia, my granddaughter, is so looking forward to it. She is a lively, vivacious girl. The apple of my eye.”
Alexander nodded politely. “And how old is your granddaughter?”
“Nineteen,” said the Earl. “She made her debut just last year. That was quite a spectacle. Another king’s ransom in gowns and fripperies.” He hesitated. “Her mother, Henrietta, chides me sometimes about how I spoil her. But what else is my wealth for? I have more than I need or want. I want to see her happy and laughing.”
Alexander took another sip of wine. “How old was your granddaughter when her father and brother died?”
“Only seven years old,” said the Earl, his eyes filled with sorrow. “She almost died herself from the influenza that took them both. It was touch and go for a while. But Olivia is strong and has a fighting spirit.” He paused. “William was her twin brother, you know. They were inseparable.”
Alexander frowned. The poor young lady. Losing a sibling would be hard enough—he did not even want to contemplate the thought of losing Lucy—but to lose a twin would be even harder. And then she had lost her father, as well. So much tragedy for one so young, who had been fighting for her own life.
“Henrietta, my daughter-in-law, offered to leave Essington Manor with Olivia after the tragedy,” continued the Earl, taking a sip of his wine. “She said she should return to her mother’s home. But I would not hear of it. Hetty is like a daughter to me, and Charles would want me to take care of her and his remaining child. He loved them so very much.”
“And your older sons?” asked Alexander, a lump in his throat. What a kind, generous man the Earl was. “What happened to them, if you do not mind talking about them?”
“Edward and Bertrand were their names,” said the Earl, his voice gruff again. “Edward was my first son and heir. They were only two years apart in age. Such scallywags.” He smiled fondly. “They were returning home from London when the carriage lost control and went down over a hill. Both died instantly.”
“Dear God,” said Alexander, his lips thinning. “You truly have had your share of tragedy, my lord.”
“Call me Reginald,” said the Earl, refilling Alexander’s glass. “Yes, I have indeed. My dear wife Isobel as well, God rest her soul. At least she was not here to see Charles and Will die. She barely recovered after what happened to Edward and Bertrand. I think it would have broken her completely.”
Alexander shook his head incredulously. The earl’s life was so full of tragedy. Despite his grand title, palatial estate, and wealth, he was a bereaved old man, desperately missing those he had loved and lost. At least he still had his granddaughter to console him. That was something.
“But enough about me for now,” said the Earl, taking another sip of wine. “Tell me about your life, Captain Fletcher. I am very interested to hear of it.”
“My name is Alexander,” he said, smiling. “I am not on my ship now.” He paused. “Well, I was brought up in Soho. My father was a merchant on the docks. We were never rich, but we got by. We were comfortable.”
“Are you an only child?”
“Just me and my younger sister Lucy,” said Alexander. “She is much younger than me. Only sixteen. Our mother died when Lucy was only three, and then my father lost his life last year.” He hesitated. “Lucy lives with our aunt in a small village in Kent, as I am often away at sea. I send them money and support them. It is the best I can do at the moment.”
He took another sip of wine, his heart clenched with emotion. His family was fractured just like the earl’s was. Both his parents gone, and his sister forced to live with their aunt. He often felt guilty about not providing a home for Lucy, but he knew Aunt Edwina loved her dearly. He also felt it was important for Lucy to be with a woman who could guide her properly.
He was a sea captain. A trader. He was not cut out to be a surrogate father. He tried to make it up to her with money and make sure she got whatever she needed. But still, he was away a lot, and money did not make up for his lack of presence in her young life. He sometimes thought that Lucy must feel like she had lost him as well as everything else. She was still so young, after all.
“And you enjoy the seafaring life, do you?” asked the Earl, as the first course of the dinner was placed in front of them. “Is it what you always dreamt of doing with your life?”
Alexander shrugged. “No day is the same,” he said, smiling. “Life at sea is always exciting. I make a good living from it. I have three ships now that trade all over the world. One just left for a voyage to the Americas. Another just returned from the Orient.” He paused. “I have only just returned from Spain. Your letter caught me there before I set sail for home.”
The Earl nodded. “An exciting, adventurous life. You are a young man, and it is good to explore and experience all that the world offers.” He hesitated. “But you do want to settle down one day? Do you desire a family?”
