Page 11 of In Want of a Wife
“No? You are hardly the charming ladies’ man, Brother.” He was much too busy pouring over law books or scowling over one thing or the next. What a miserable business being a barrister must be.
Rafe stabbed his knife into the ham steak and tried to defy the size of his mouth with a large bite.
“You eat like a caveman.”
Rafe grinned again, glancing up to catch his brother’s lack of amusement. He couldn’t remember much of the events surrounding his father’s passing, but he was certain Henry acted the part of a disapproving father like a champion. “So tell me, did you find a love match in those letters?”
“I do not need a wife.”
“Nor do I,” Rafe muttered under his breath. Wives were best left for other men, certainly not for a man in the Navy who never knew when he’d be at sea and for how long. He wanted no part in wives or weddings or that love business.
“These replies are from women, desperate in some cases, seeking better circumstances. And you gave them hope of finding that by your joke when there is none to be had with me.”
There it was finally—disappointment in full view. Somehow, itwas still easier to swallow than the herring that sat on the sideboard, smelling up the musty morning room.
Rafe reached for the stack of letters and made a cautious blow over his coffee before taking another sip.
“You don’t think of the consequences of your foolishness. Ever.”
Rafe nodded along to his brother’s set down, skimming over sentences filled with life histories of women in search of a husband.
“Their life might depend on a union with me?—”
“Such a humble opinion of yourself,” Rafe mumbled, taking one last swipe of his fork over his breakfast plate.
Henry talked over the metallic scraping against the china. “And the request was a lie. I have only just moved here. I am still new to my title and responsibilities. Half of this house is unsafe to occupy until the roof is replaced. I am in no position to take a wife.”
Rafe had been trapped at this house with Henry for three long, barely tolerable months. The word “just” was an excuse. He never accepted it from his sailors, and he wouldn’t from his brother either.
“Of course, you are. You have a new home that desperately needs managing, not to mention needing an heir.”
“You agreed to help with managing the estate if I remember correctly. You jumped at the opportunity to leave behind London.”
“Jumped infers I was eager, which I was not. I was very inebriated and eager to leave the gaol, and there is a difference.”
Henry scratched his temple, his dark brown eyes glaring at his brother. “You have the opportunity to become captain of your own frigate. Imagine.”
That was the problem. He could imagine being a captain, and while for the longest time that was all he had craved, for the past two years, he no longer wished to continue in the Navy. But what was he to do? Once a navy man, always married to the sea. He didn’t know the first place to start in making a life on land.
Despite the years, Henry’s resentment of Rafe, being a navy man like their father instead of him, hadn’t lessened. It was a quick burning hurt that lingered behind his older brother’s constant disappointment in his character.
Rafe stared into his empty coffee cup and grimaced again. He had a life once with purpose, but he had lost himself somehow. Well, notsomehow. He remembered perfectly what had happened, though he wished to forget. He would welcome his mind to become a black void of those days. Wholeheartedly and with outstretched arms.
“What do you wish me to do?” he asked, sure that if he could make Henry somewhat happy, then life might be a little more pleasing than it was at present.
“I want you to write back to these letters with an apology. I want you to consider re-enlisting.”
“Hmm.” Rafe’s attention drifted to a letter on crisp paper. One that smelled of apricot and cinnamon.
I must be honest and confess that I am not as tall as you requested. I feel I do compensate for this unfortunate vertical deficiency by the elevated height of my character.
Rafe reread the line of the missive once more and chuckled. This woman seemed like the opposite of the ridiculous requirements he had outlined in the advertisement. He continued reading, his attention snared tighter than when he had spotted the ham at breakfast.
I am strictly of the mindset not to swan about. It is a waste of one’s time. I am cheerful, generally enjoyed by the company I keep with the exception of my stepmother. And on the matter of five thousand pounds?—
“Are you listening?”
“Sure.” Rafe waved his hand, knocking over his coffee. He cursed under his breath and wiped off the letter. At least it had only been a few drops, but it was still smudged. He slumped back in his chair. “Whatever you wish, Henry. I’ll see it done.”
