“My brother has been learning since he was a lad. Did you put off learning, Lord Ferrard?”
Learning and being the one to make the decisions were two entirely different circumstances. Soon, the whole of it would be on his shoulders, though most of it he carried now. It was the reason that he must find a wife during the next Season so that the most monumental decision of his life was behind him and he’d be able to concentrate on what was best for his family. “No,” he answered. “I did not become the heir until I was sixteen, when my older brother became ill and died unexpectedly.”
“I was unaware, Lord Ferrard. I am sorry for your loss.”
“I was never supposed to be the one to shoulder the responsibilities. I was nothing more than thespareand enjoyed the freedom of little pressure until Gavin was gone. Then the expectations of my future shifted dramatically. Any choice I may have made for myself was erased, and centuries of tradition, legacy, and heritage determined my place.”
“As with those born of my gender, heirs have little control over their future either.”
“There is also another reason why I’ve been devoted to Hawthorn Park these past six months.”
Lady Violet tilted her chin, allowing the sun to brighten her face as the bonnet no longer shaded her features.
“My father suffered an accident in August. He was thrown from his horse and struck his head.”
Lady Violet sucked in a breath. “Goodness. Has he recovered?”
There was no easy way to answer such a question. “At first my brother was concerned with a concussion, for which he showed signs, but seemed to recover after a short time.”
“Thank goodness,” she muttered as they turned to stroll along the perimeter of the cemetery. He was more comfortable walking than standing and staring down at Lady Violet, as this was a difficult topic for him to discuss.
“Unfortunately, shortly thereafter, after we thought all would be well, he began showing signs of what my brother described as a demented state. Not necessarily a madness that one needed to fear, but loss of memory and confusion. Thus, I’ve needed to take over many of the Earl of Lovell’s duties.”
“I’m sorry. I’d no idea.”
“Nobody knows, and I’m asking that you keep this in the strictest of confidences.”
Her green eyes widened. “Of course, Lord Ferrard. I’d never speak out of turn, especially on something so personal in nature.”
Emory expected that to be her response, but he needed to hear it from her lips, a clarification of what he’d come to believe after such a short friendship.
He’d lost much of his father these past few months. Even though Father was physically present, he had poor concentration, slowed thought processes, trouble thinking clearly, and memory loss, which made it necessary for Emory to assume the duties at home.
“Liam had hoped my father’s loss of memory and confusion would be reduced and disappear in time, but instead, he’s gotten worse in the past two months, and it is unlikely he’ll leave Hawthorn Park again.” Heaviness settled on his shoulders and in his heart.
“It must be very difficult for you,” Lady Violet offered.
“It’s actually the reason I had decided to attend your father’s house party,” he added.
She frowned up at him. “I don’t understand.”
No, she wouldn’t. Who goes to a house party when their father is so ill? “Given my father’s incapacities, I realized that I could no longer put off marriage.”
Light dawned in her green eyes as she nodded as if she understood. “As you thought there’d be dozens of ladies and misses in attendance, you’d thought to find a bride.”
“Yes,” he acknowledged, then sighed. “Unless there is another house party before everyone returns to London, which is unlikely, I will be forced to come to know each lady who has been placed on the marriage mart and make my decision as quickly as possible.”
She understoodhis concern that as the heir, Ferrard did have a duty, but it didn’t explain why he remained in Laswell. “Why court me when your father will unlikely realize that you spent above a day or two in consideration of a wife?”
“Because he still has moments, even days, of complete lucidity, and I want to be able to assure him that I did, indeed, spend a good deal of time in courtship of a beautiful and intelligent woman.”
He thought her beautiful? Nobody had ever said those words to Violet. Though she believed her features pleasing, as she did own a mirror, but that was symmetry and she certainly didn’t consider herself beautiful.
“You seem taken aback,” Lord Ferrard noted and if she weren’t mistaken, there was a bit of humor in his sapphire eyes.
“I believe I am.”
“Intelligent or beautiful?” he asked as the corner of his mouth quirked.
