Richard’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t mean to imply that she needed it, lad. You’re your own man and have been for some time.”
“I’m in earnest,” Wick said hastily, realizing that Richard had misconstrued his comment for sarcasm. “It matters to me that you and Violet get along with her. It means a lot to Beatrice, too, because she hasn’t always had that welcome after her accident. That was partly why she left London five years ago.”
“Bloodyton,” Richard said with disgust. “Well, I hope you’ve convinced her not to pay any mind to that pettiness. Your lass is fair and kind, capable to boot. I should like to learn more about her land management techniques since I’m thinking about expanding my own holdings.”
Wick’s lips quirked. “I’m certain Beatrice would be happy to discuss crop rotation with you.”
“It’s good to see you settling down and with a sensible female. Have you asked her to marry you yet?”
That was Richard: straight to the point.
“I have, but we’re waiting before we make our engagement public.”
“Why wait?”
“If I had my way, I’d have the bans read tomorrow. But Beatrice…she’s not yet ready.”
Richard frowned. “Why not?”
Wick gave an account of the dangers Bea faced and their purpose in London.
“So you intend to track down the owner of the pocket watch and delve into the past of this Randall Perkins character. And perhaps locate this Reverend Wright as well.” Richard took a meditative sip of whisky. “You’ll need help, and I’d be glad to lend a hand. I’ll also try to keep a rein on Violet, but you know how she is.”
As Wick had been friends with Violet even before she met Richard, he was well aware that his sister-in-law would not countenance being left out of an adventure. Richard indulged his viscountess quite shamelessly, although Wick knew he would draw the line at her putting herself at risk. Nor would Wick be willing to endanger the lady he loved like a sister.
“Since you and Violet solved the mystery of Monique’s murder all those years ago,” he said, “I would welcome your assistance.”
At the mention of his dead mistress, his brother’s brows lifted. Wick knew why. He rarely mentioned Monique or that shameful time in his life. Yet his talks with Beatrice had quieted the rattling of skeletons so that they now felt to be what they were: memories that would always be with him but no longer felt like a cross to bear.
“Have you told your lass about what happened?” Richard asked quietly.
“Yes. And she thinks that I’m honorable, even with the mistakes that I’ve made.”
“A sensible woman, as I said.” His brother gave an approving nod. “Your problem never was a lack of honor, Wickham, but an excess of it.”
“I don’t follow.”
Richard set down his glass, leaning his forearms on his thighs. “Since you were a wee boy, you’ve cared about doing the right thing, but when you failed to meet your own high standards or made a mistake, you were always hard on yourself. Excessively so. To the point where no one could tell you anything without you lashing out in anger. But the true anger, lad, was at yourself, no? You’ve been this way your entire life.”
Stunned, Wick stared at his brother. “When did you become this insightful?”
“Since I got myself a wife who informs me my problem isn’t a lack of emotion but an excess of it.” Richard rubbed the back of his neck, his expression rueful. “According to Violet, the quieter I get, the more ‘feelings’ I’m having. That’s when she pesters me until I talk to her.”
“I wonder how our tendencies came about,” Wick said, bemused.
“Need you ask? Papa and Mama each had a favorite, and you knew when you weren’t it.” Richard’s tone was wry. “In Mama’s eyes, I’m the dull, staid son who lacks your charm, good looks, and ease with people. Which is fine by me, since Violet values my other qualities.” His chest puffed out a little, his expression that of a man who’s found exactly what he needed in his marriage. “As for Papa, he was stricter and harsher with you, expressing his disappointment at the slightest thing.”
“He compared me to you, the dutiful heir, and I always came up short.”
“We’re different, Wick. Like apples and oranges, neither is better or worse.” Richard paused. “I’m learning this with my own lads: Ewan has the brains, Duncan is the mischief-maker, and Wickham…well, he takes after his namesake. The lad’s got all the servants wrapped around his finger, and even his grandmama can’t resist his smile. As different as the boys are, however, I love them equally.”
“Something our parents never managed to do.” Wick paused. “By the by, how is Mama?”
“Spitting mad that you didn’t manage your usual visit in the spring. She blames me and Violet for keeping her from you, although we’ve told her more than once that she’s welcome to leave the dowager house and join you in London.” Richard’s expression was sardonic. “I’m sorry to say she hasn’t taken us up on that offer.”
“I’m not sorry,” Wick said with feeling.
His brother’s look turned sympathetic. “You should know she’s been making noises about visiting her ‘handsome lad,’ and clearly she didn’t mean me.”
