“Charles, what is it? What has happened?”
He heard a rustle and knew she picked the letter up. A few seconds later, a gasp escaped her. He let his hands fall away from his eyes and reached out to her, gathering her tightly in his arms.
“It’s not true,” she cried. “It can’t be true.”
He buried his head in the curve of her shoulder, his tears wetting her dress. The sound of muffled sobs reached his ears, and it took him a moment to realize they were his.
Elizabeth yanked away from him and cupped his face in her hands. “Go after them, Charles. Bring them home. Bring thembothhome.”
“I’m a fool,” he said hoarsely. “What kind of father have I been?”
If he expected sympathy from his wife, he was sorely disappointed.
“It’s not too late,” she said fiercely. “You go get our boys. You say whatever is necessary to bring them home where they belong. And then you have a long talk with Ridge and mend your fences. Tell him thetruth.”
The truth. Ridge would hate him if he ever knew the truth. He hated himwithoutknowing the truth.
“What if he won’t talk to me,” the earl said softly, his tongue thick in his mouth. “What if it is too late? What if I lose them both?”
His tears spilled over his wife’s hands, and she smoothed them away with her fingertips. He reached up to grip her hands, still pressed firmly against his cheeks. He pressed a kiss to her palm. “I don’t deserve them.”
“You’re a good man, Charles. Agoodman. You made mistakes. So have I. But you raised two fine sons. You didn’t do wrong by them, and it’s not too late to gain their forgiveness.”
He swallowed back the sobs that threatened to further unman him, and he sucked in a steadying breath. “No, it’s not too late. I won’t let it be.”
He brushed aside his wife’s hands and stood up, embarrassment over his display of emotion tightening his chest.
“Have my things packed. I’ll hire the first ship to Spain. I’m going to get our sons.”
He strode by his wife, noting the grief welling in her beautiful eyes. He stopped and turned back to her. Cupping a hand behind her neck, he pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“I won’t fail them this time, Elizabeth. You have my word.”
A tear slid down her pale cheek, and she patted the lapel of his waistcoat. “Go,” she choked out.
###
Robby threw his coat onto the small bed in his cabin and eyed his trunk shoved into the corner. He reached back to secure the lock on his door just in case Ridge thought to pop in, then he bent over the trunk to open it.
He dug down to the bottom, feeling for the bottle he had hidden amongst his clothing. He pulled it out and opened it. Dispensing with any sort of measurement, he tilted his head back and took a long swallow straight from the bottle.
His face contorted as the bitter liquid hit his tongue, but he forced himself to swallow every drop. After replacing the top, he shoved it back into the trunk and closed the lid.
In the distance, he heard the call to hoist the anchor. He quickly unlocked his door and stepped out. The ship was already easing itself out of the harbor when he took his position above deck. He leaned against the polished wood of the stern and watched as the shores of England disappeared into the horizon.
A light breeze ruffled his hair, dried the faint trail of tears that streaked his cheeks. He would never see home again. But he didn’t want to die at home. He didn’t want anyone to say he had died abed. No, instead they would say he died amidst a grand adventure.
Sadness, regret, lay heavy in his heart, like someone had placed a great stone over his chest. The idea of dying didn’t bother him so much anymore. He had accepted that there was little he could do about that fact. What he regretted was never doing anything of import. Never challenging himself to do more than spend an entire night gaming.
He wanted to change that, even if for a brief time. He wanted just one moment where he could say he had done something worthwhile. Lived life to its fullest.
Ridge had made it a practice, living for himself and not for others, but Robby had always been under his father’s thumb. Too desperate for his sire’s approval to ever do anything to rock the proverbial boat.
Each time Ridge did something to distance himself even further from their father, Robby stepped in to take his place. Even going as far as to marry the woman Ridge would have made the next Countess of Drysedale.
Lucinda. He twisted his lips in scorn. She had told him if he left not to bother returning because she wouldn’t be there. If only she knew. If only he thought she would care.
His vision blurred, whether from the tears that stung his eyelids or from the medicine he had swallowed down in his cabin he wasn’t sure. Either way, the distant shoreline was growing more hazy by the second.
