Freddy gave a reluctant laugh. “I detest politicians, can’t remotely see myself as a vicar, and you know better than anyone that I’ve never been academic. But I appreciate your confidence in me, George.”
George set a hand on his shoulder and met his gaze. “There are lots of other choices you could make, Freddy. God knows there’s plenty to do around here.”
“Yes, but—that’s your thing, isn’t it?”
“You mean because I’m father’s heir.” It wasn’t a question and Freddy didn’t take it as one. He sighed and looked away.
George searched his mind for the right words. At last, haltingly, he said, “This might be difficult for me to explain, but I don’t… see it like that anymore. The way I look at life has changed recently and I—” He broke off, frustrated with the inadequacy of his words.
“Changed how?” Freddy asked, turning back to him. Then, with that peculiar acuity he occasionally showed, he narrowed his eyes at George and said, “Is this something to do with Ollie Fletcher getting married?”
“No—well, I suppose indirectly…” George trailed off with an uncomfortable huff of awkward laughter.
“Are you still pining after him?” Freddy asked bluntly.
George groaned, embarrassed. “Not anymore. Not for a while, actually. But I suppose his wedding did play a part in this.”
It had, after all, brought Theo Caldwell back into his life.
After a moment, he added hurriedly, “Ollie and I were only ever friends, you know.”
Freddy’s brows raised, his scepticism clear.
“Well—mostly,” George mumbled. “But the point is, Ollie’s nothing to do with the change I’m talking about—quite the opposite. The change is more in how I see my life and my future. How I want to live.”
“And how is that?” Freddy asked, his expression alive now with curiosity.
George met his gaze squarely. “Well, I don’t want to get married.”
Freddy’s brows rose in surprise. “No? I had the impression you were thinking about marrying quite soon.”
“I was,” George said with a rueful smile, “but I finally realised that I really don’t want that. And now that I’ve admitted as much to myself, I see that it would be quite unfair to trap some poor girl into marriage with me.”
“Oh, George,” Freddy said fondly. “Don’t you realise how many young ladies would happily volunteer to be your duchess, even knowing you could never love them? For the title alone, never mind the riches and jewels.”
“Yes, well, that’s not the sort of woman I would want to bring into our family.”
“True,” Freddy agreed.
“The thing is,” George said. “It doesn’t much matter that I am father’s heir. You are mine. So, you see, you have every bit as much of a stake as I do in the running of our estates. And just as much reason to be involved.”
Freddy stared at him, for once speechless.
Unhurriedly, George got to his feet. “I’ll leave to you to think about that for a while,” he said gently. “I’ll be back in half an hour with the bath chair.”
33
THEO
In the days after George left Blackfriars, Theo felt strangely numb. He went through the motions of rising, putting in a day’s work, eating dinner, and going to bed. He was busily occupied every day but he was miserable and, perhaps for the first time in his life, deeply lonely.
More than anything, it was the loneliness that confused him. How could he, with his independent ways, become lonely so quickly? How had George done this to him—made him lonely with his absence? Theo was not the sort of man who needed the constant company of others. It made no sense.
In all other ways, he continued as he had before. He was quieter, though, and Martin and Mrs. Ford could hardly fail to notice.
On the evening of George’s departure, Mrs. Ford had attempted to speak to him.
“Mr Asquith asked me to tell you why he was called away,” she’d said, nervously. “Since he only had time to dash off a quick note before he left and?—”
