Page 24 of The Moonstone Marquess
Stop whining.
Punch.
Face your responsibilities.
Punch. Punch.
That deserved two punches.
Instead, he remained by the window, resting a shoulder against the wall as they spoke. Phoebe would not approve of him smashing his fist into Richard’s face. “The entire point is, both of you could have bought your way out. He chose not to. And who is to say he would have lived had he stayed in England? He could have fallen off his horse while fox hunting and broken his neck. You know he was always a reckless rider. Would it have been your fault then?”
Richard groaned. “My father was so angry when he enlisted. James did it because he was afraid I would die in my first battle. I’m sure he was right. He did it to protect me. And now, I am Earl of Crawford. How is this fair?”
“How is it fair that I lost my arm mere daysafterthe war was over? I survived years with hardly a scratch and then one shot after truce had been declared sealed my fate. You dishonor your brother by shirking your duties as earl. He would not have made the sacrifice if he did not believe in you.”
“You don’t understand.” Richard threw his arm over his eyes and began to cry. “I am a failure. I cannot handle the responsibility.”
Cormac opened the window to allow in the sea breeze, for the room was too hot and beginning to feel like a tomb. “Have you even tried?”
“How can I? I am in mourning.”
“The world does not stop because of it.”
“Well, I want it to.”
“There is not much you need to do, Richard,” he said more gently, understanding his friend’s pain and not wishing to make light of it. “Your brother was in no condition to actively participate in the management of the Crawford properties these past few years. This is why he hired good men to assist him. You do not need to do anything but meet with your estate managers from time to time and address whatever issues they raise.”
Richard sat up and wiped the tears from his eyes. “How am I to do this when I have no clue what needs to be done?”
“This is why you employ them. They will tell you what requires attention and then handle the work themselves.”
He appeared unmoved.
Cormac pressed on. “I assure you, if I can take on the role of marquess, you can handle being an earl. Whether the task is merely repair of a farmer’s cottage or replenishing a field, purchasing more cattle or selling some off, your estate manager will know what needs to be done. All you have to do is give the nod and provide the requisite funds.”
“Burness, you refuse to understand. I have no head for these things. I am a scholar.”
“You are also a man of compassion and can do much good for England in your capacity as earl. I am the first to admit I am an insufferable arse, but even I know my duty and have taken it upon myself, along with other military men in the peerage, to do all we can for those who fought. It is in our power to make things better for those who cannot fight for themselves.”
“All the more reason why I am not worthy to sit in the House of Lords. What can I do?”
“Lend your support to those causes in which you believe. You do not have to actively champion anything. Just support what is right and fair. What is so difficult about sitting in Parliament for an occasional vote? Then you can spend your days doing whatever you truly enjoy. Be no more than a figurehead, if that is all you can handle. You will not be the first earl nor the last to do so.”
“I’ll think about it.”
The words sounded dismissive.
Indeed, Cormac knew they were, for he often said the same thing as a way of ending conversations. “Come to me if you ever need advice. I will help you. Richard, you cannot think only of yourself. Your sisters need you. The eldest will be ready to be introduced into Society next year. Do not leave her adrift.”
“Now I am to be responsible for Arabella, too?” Richard covered his ears. “This is too much. You don’t understand.”
Cormac ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. Had he treatedhisbrother this way? Worried him to death like this?
Despair could be a hideous and relentless feeling.
Yet even at his worst… Well, he could not recall just how bad he had been in those early days. He must have frightened his brother to no end. Even Cain, his best friend, had been worried to death about him.
Gad, looking at Lord Crawford only emphasized how miserable a burden he had been on his own family and friends.
