Page 78 of Romancing the Artist

Claude’s eyes narrowed. “The friend’s name?”

“Walter Lansbury.” He swallowed twice. “Your father wasn’t to know. I didn’t think he’d take it if he knew. I regretted my actions by that time. But I was married. The estate needed attention. The twins were barely a month old—”

Edward was shaking his head with each excuse. “You could have gone to him. Brought him here.”

“He was a gambler and a drunk, like our father,” he argued. “I regretted my actions. But I wouldn’t invite him back into my life.”

“So you sent him to sea,” Claude said, tone thoughtful and laced with bitterness. “To live or die by the sword, in fact. But here my worthless, drunkard father proved himself at last. He rose in the ranks. Became a first officer. By the time Napoleon started making trouble, my father received recognition for his service by the admiralty.” Claude’s voice steadied as he spoke until it held more pride than pain. “And he gained a small fortune through prize money.”

“A fortune you have squandered,” Edward’s father said without any real heat.

“Have I, Uncle? Or have I only let you think that?” Claude walked around the desk and Edward tensed, ready to physically defend his father if Claude acted in any way violent toward him. “I have my fun,” he said as he opened one of the drawers in the desk. “I gamble. I flirt. I drink. I travel. And now, I am to marry and leave all of that behind. And all of you behind. All you self-righteous Everlys with your sanctimonious honor.”

Claude was engaged? Edward’s mind took on that surprise without the shock the news would have caused him a mere hour ago.

His cousin removed a case from the drawer. “It is all here?” he asked, splaying his hand on the lid. “One-thousand pounds? And my grandmother’s wedding ring?”

Edward’s jaw dropped open. A family heirloom he’d seen on his own mother’s finger and a small fortune was in that box.

“All of it,” his father confirmed. “Take it and go to the devil, along with your father and mine both.”

“Where we will eagerly await you, Uncle.” Claude tucked the box beneath his arm. “You can keep the note. I don’t need it anymore.” Claude made his way back around the desk and stood before Edward. “I never had reason to like you,” he said, meeting Edward’s shocked gaze with his own clear-eyed stare. “And you made it clear you despised me. I doubt we would have rubbed along well even if we were strangers rather than cousins. I haven’t the patience for someone like you. You worry too much about pleasing others. Let this be a lesson to you, cousin.” He tapped the box with his free hand. “Take what you can get and don’t wait for anyone’s approval. Now. I’m off to my wedding. None of you are invited.”

Claude left them. The carpet in the hall made it impossible to hear his receding steps, but he whistled as he went, and the whistle slowly faded away. The distant sound of the front door closing reverberated through the house, a solemn resonance that filled the air and commanded attention. The sound, though not forceful, carried an undeniable weight. Its echo permeated every corner of the house, reaching Edward’s ears with a distinct sense of finality.

They would never see Claude Everly again. And Edward almost smiled. Because Claude had left on his own terms, with chaos in his wake. Some small part of Edward admired that.

“I never want you to repeat what you heard in this room,” Edward’s father said, his voice stronger than it had been beneath Claude’s glare. “Not to anyone. Your mother must never know. Your sisters cannot have reason to doubt their heritage.”

“I am going to travel,” Edward said quietly, as though his father hadn’t spoken. “I have wanted to travel all my life. To see the wonders of the modern world and the remnants of the ancient. And I’m going to do it, with or without your blessing.”

“Why are you so insistent about this?” His father stared at him in bewilderment. “You already traveled.”

“Three weeks in Roman cities hasn’t filled my soul. So few people have the means or the desire to do what I want to do. I have both. And I’m not waiting anymore.” Edward looked at the square paper, still on his father’s desk. He leaned forward and picked it up. Unfolded it. Read the faded ink in his father’s familiar hand. Decades had passed and his father had always put an odd loop at the top of his C’s.

“How long?” his father asked in a tone of defeat.

“I don’t know. A year. Perhaps longer. I will write when Caroline and I decide.” He tucked the note into his waistcoat pocket. Claude might not need the reminder of Samuel Everly’s selfishness anymore. But Edward might.

“We need you here. The estate needs you.”

Edward smiled, though he couldn’t be certain why. It didn’t seem the time to smile. “Not yet. You’re still here. And we both know you haven’t wanted me to interfere with the way you do things.”

His father’s expression turned sad, almost bleak. “When will you go?”

Edward knew precisely when. “After my wedding.”

“And what of Miss Clapham?” his father asked, shoulders sinking along with his gaze. “Do you wed her to spite me, too?”

“I love her.” He wouldn’t let his father cheapen that. “And I know her heart as well as I know my own.” There was more to life than what Edward’s father valued. It wasn’t better. But it wasn’t less, either. “Even had she said no tonight, Father, I wouldn’t stay. Claude was right. I have cared too much about making you happy. I am going to look after myself for a while.” He stared at his father, who wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I know you thought you were protecting me. But you were wrong, Father. I have learned from every mistake I made, and I never made the same mistake twice. I am not like your father, your brother, or you. I am my own person.”

His father heaved a sigh and turned away. “It’s late, Edward. I am going to bed.”

The dismissal didn’t hurt. His father had faced his own hubris and weakness, he’d had his shame thrown in his face, in front of his only son. He was an old man. Tired and unbending. Nearly broken by a decades’ old lie. Perhaps one day, Edward would forgive him. “I will turn in as well. Good night, Father.”

“Good night.”

Edward left the office, heavier with knowledge yet lighter in step. Whatever came next, he would be ready. And, hopefully, Caroline would be, too.