“Spoken like a blind father.”
Heathcliff made a rude gesture to Ramsey, and Ramsey chuckled. “So, you don’t wish for my help?”
“No. You’ll just take over, and your sense of loyalty is admirable, but not necessarily . . . healthy.”
“I’m offended.”
“It isn’t the first time.”
“True, still . . . I suppose I should thank you,” Ramsey replied, furrowing his brow. Oddly he didn’t feel relieved, or thankful. Rather, he felt slighted. It was worrisome and unwelcome to feel such a way.
“That is the response that I’d expect,” Heathcliff said, “from anyone but you.”
“And the offense continues,” Ramsey sighed.
“Just . . . maybe take a break. Go travel. You’ve had more than your share of business and no pleasure.”
“Pleasure is for the weak,” Ramsey replied.
“Says the man in great need of it,” Heathcliff replied swiftly. “Lucas will arrive in a week, and we shall have all things in hand here.”
“I’m becoming obsolete, is what you’re saying.”
“No. I’m saying take some time to yourself before you do become obsolete and a pain in my arse with your highly overactive sense of control.”
“I doubt I compare with Lucas’s tight hold on it,” Ramsey grumbled.
“You are on the path to becoming far more controlling than even he was at his peak, so that is why I’m suggesting you take a new path before it’s too late.”
Ramsey sighed. “Very well, I’ll make a few arrangements. At least you didn’t suggest I find a woman.”
“I know better than to suggest such a thing. What woman would I wish you upon?” he teased.
To this, Ramsey had to chuckle. “Who indeed?”
It was after this conversation that Ramsey left for his residence, deep in thought and reflective of the previous conversation. There was much to be digested, and he found the idea of a break a welcome one.
Sleep was swift in coming, and upon waking, he decided that if he were going through with the idea of a sabbatical, he wished to spend a grand time of it in rest. Good Lord, heaven only knew how much sleep he’d missed because of Temptations and the quick departure of his two friends last year.
It was to their credit that they wished him a break from work, yet as he made the final arrangements for his time off, he felt a great restlessness overtake him.
What in heaven’s name was he to do now, aside from catch up on sleep?
London held no attachment for him.
And he bloody well didn’t wish to go back to Glenwood Manor. It had been nearly five years since he’d returned.
Which only punctuated the point that it was beyond time for him to return and address business in his country seat.
But he was loath to do it. Returning to Glenwood Manor would most certainly not constitute a vacation. Rather, it would be the severest of punishment.
Which was probably why he was already planning to go.
When guilt plagued you, punishment was always the answer.
And there could be no more severe punishment than to return to the place that sealed his estimation in his father’s eyes.
Glenwood Manor.
