Morgan forced himself to hold the other man’s stare. “I try.”
That elicited a bit of a smile from his companion. “Roseford worries over you. A brother’s prerogative, and one I understand better than most. But it makes me wonder if I should worry about you, too.”
Morgan sat up straighter. There was something about the question, about the man who sat across from him, that made him want to prove something about himself. That was a new sensation and he wasn’t certain he liked it much.
And yet…
“No,” he said, and the mask he wore slipped a bit. “You wouldn’t have to worry about me.”
Brighthollow arched a brow. “Do youwantthis opportunity?”
Well, they had come to it and swiftly, at that, because the Duke of Brighthollow did not seem a man who minced around topics or played games. So the total opposite of Morgan, himself.
But this was a split in the road of Morgan’s life. He recognized it with a clarity that rarely accompanied such moments. There were the two paths. One where he scoffed at the idea of a different life, where he continued on as he always had and probably irrevocably damaged his relationship with Roseford.
But life had not been…perfect…as of late. Roseford wasn’t wrong when he said Morgan was troubled. He just hated that his brother could see it. That felt like vulnerability and Morgan had fought his entire life not to show any of that. Soft underbellies got knifed in his experience.
And that made him look at the other path that Brighthollow presented. One with a vocation that could provide instead of the dwindling inheritance Robert continued to bestow upon him. A future that went beyond gaming hells and brothels and a wastrel’s existence.
“Mr. Banfield?” Brighthollow said, tilting his head to examine Morgan more closely.
Morgan blinked. “I-I haven’t served anyone before,” he admitted softly.
“I know.” Brighthollow leaned forward. “But there is time to learn. I’ll teach you.”
Morgan swallowed. “You’re doing this for Robert.”
Brighthollow’s smile softened. “Yes. Does that bother you?”
“If it’s the only reason,” Morgan said.
“I understand that. You must know that Robert isn’t. I’d be a fool to hand over the keys to my kingdom just because of a friendship. In truth, I think you might be good at it. Everything Robert has told me about you says you would be if you applied yourself to it.”
Morgan wrinkled his brow. So Roseford had spoken to Brighthollow about him before, it seemed. And with…with pride? Something in Morgan flickered that he did not want to feel.
He cleared his throat and words he didn’t expect fell from his lips. “Then I’ll do it.”
“Excellent.” Brighthollow pushed to his feet and extended a hand to Morgan. He stood and shook it, slightly dazed by how this meeting had gone. He’d had plans for it, but now everything had veered to the side. “I will stay here in London for a few days so you may make any arrangements you need. And I’ll also invite Robert and Katherine to join us in Brighthollow.”
Morgan shook his head. “For what purpose?”
“To ease the transition.”
Morgan pursed his lips. He couldn’t imagine having Robert around, parenting him over his shoulder, would be easy. But then again, having people there he knewmighthelp. “Er, that is kind of you.”
Brighthollow shrugged, as if the gesture meant nothing. Then he moved toward the door. “Well, let us see if Roseford is standing in the hallway with his ear pressed against my door? And then I’ll let you go so you may put your own house in order. We can meet again, perhaps tonight for supper, and go over these new beginnings for us both.”
Morgan followed him to the door in a daze. A new beginning. It had been a long time since he’d had one of those. He just hoped he’d know what to do with it.
Chapter 3
Lizzie strolled along the pathway in the vast expanse of the garden behind the manor house, notebook in hand, although she hadn’t been taking notes. There were many reasons for her inability to gather her thoughts.
Part of the distraction was that she loved being back home. The quiet of the estate, the beauty of the trees and fountains and flowers, it all made her feel so peaceful. She’d needed that after her recent time in London.
But it had been a week since she and Amelia had arrived home. They’d enjoyed many a casual stroll and happy supper and visit with shire friends. As time passed, though, she felt the expectations from her sister-in-law about the garden. When Hugh arrived with his new employee, probably shortly, he would likely have the same questions. After all, that was why she’d claimed she wanted to come here for a month during the height of the Season.
She sighed. Her parents had died when she was just eight. Her father, she admitted, she didn’t miss often. He had been a distant and often unpleasant presence in her life, and Hugh had stepped into his role with grace and ease and kindness, even when she didn’t feel she deserved it.
