His amusement faded. Soberly, he said, “Aye, lass. In the past year, I sold off my personal holdings to keep the estate afloat. I auctioned off my stables, the breeding program I’d been building.”
She heard the thrum of longing in his voice. Although Richard didn’t say it, he had sacrificed his own wants in the name of responsibility. The same way he’d gone beyond duty to rescue his younger brother.
He’s a jolly fine chap. A truly decent man.
“I’m sorry you had to abandon your dreams,” she said gently.
He looked briefly nonplussed. Then he shrugged. “I did what had to be done.”
“Do you plan on rebuilding your stables one day?”
“Mayhap one day. There are more important considerations.”
His reply was curt, but she saw the flicker in his eyes. His dream hadn’t been completely snuffed out, no matter how he tried to discount it.
“What you wantisimportant,” she insisted.
He sighed. “It’s not so easy, lass. There’s the estate to think of and the lives of all who depend upon it for their survival.”
“What is the situation of your estate now?”
“It’s stabilized for the time being. I implemented fiscal measures that I’m told are Draconian. My mama has yet to forgive me for them,” he said wryly.
“How could she blame you for doing what needed to be done?”
“She finds a way.”
She didn’t like his matter-of-fact acceptance of the blame. Richard’s burdens were even heavier than she’d realized, and it seemed he got little thanks for all that he’d done. No wonder he had his curmudgeonly moments. Thinking of Wick’s misleading lies about his older brother, she felt a stab of anger at her friend.
“You needn’t worry that you’ll be marrying a pauper.” Apparently mistaking the cause of her silence, he said with determination, “I’ll see to it that you have the necessary comforts.”
“I’m not worried about money,” she assured him. “My family had very little when I was growing up, and the truth is that I like a simple life.”
He gave a gruff nod. “So are we settled or not?”
Romance really wasn’t his forte. Luckily for him, she found his honesty irresistible—far more pleasing than flummery. The fact that he’d shared his past with her and was willing to work together to save Wick gave her hope.
Compromise—it made all the difference, Em had said. And compromise went both ways.
“All right.” Vi prayed she was doing the right thing. “Speak to my brother, Carlisle.”
He exhaled, and when she realized he’d actually been holding his breath, her heart hiccupped.
He brought her hand to his lips. “You won’t regret this. Now I have one more favor to ask.”
“Another one?” Oops. She didn’t mean to sound ungracious.
“Yes,” he said solemnly. “I want you to call me Richard.”
“Oh… well, all right, um, Richard.”
Given the physical intimacies they’d shared, it was ridiculous that saying his name could affect her so. Yet his heated gaze made her want to swoon like some silly debutante.
Reminding herself that their privacy would soon be over and there was still much to discuss, she took a breath. “Now about Wick. What are we going to do?”
The sensuality left Richard’s eyes, replaced by sharp focus. “Do you know how the meeting between your brother and the magistrate went?”
It had been a busy morning. Not only had Dr. Abernathy arrived to examine the body, but Billings had been unable to stave off a visit from the local official any longer. Magistrate Jones had descended upon the estate with constables in tow, and Vi had gotten a glimpse of him: his countenance would make the Grim Reaper’s seem cheerful in comparison. Guests—especially those of the cutthroat variety—had scattered like marbles at his arrival.
