Page 61 of The Earl She Once Saved

“I mean to.”

“When?”

“Within the week.”

Rafe looked at his friend’s bad leg, stretched carefully before him. London would suit Ezra better than idle dependence at Edgeworth. He would have work, income, and something resembling a future.

Rafe had known this visit would end. He had not expected to need him when it did.

“There is something you should see.”

He reached inside his coat and removed the letter. Ezra saw his face and set down the brandy.

Rafe unfolded the page. Roland’s hand sprawled across it, careless and assured, as he read the letter aloud.

My dear Rafe,

News of our father’s death has reached me at last. Though our differences were considerable, I regret that circumstances prevented my returning in time to pay him the respect due to his position and name.

Those same circumstances, I am pleased to say, no longer detain me. I have lately heard encouraging reports of Edgeworth. It appears the estate has recovered admirably during my absence, a fact that has done much to persuade me that the proper moment has come to resume my place there.

You will naturally have made certain arrangements while believing me unable to return. I do not fault you for them. Indeed, I am grateful that the property has not been permitted to fall entirely into neglect. Any decisions made in my absence can be reviewed once I arrive, and I am confident you will surrender the managment of my affairs with the good grace expected between brothers.

You may tell Verity that she need not stress herself over my return. Whatever grievances she has chosen to preserve, I am willing to overlook them. Time apart often lends consequence to matters that might otherwise have been forgotten, and I trust she will remember where her duty lies when we meet again.

Have my rooms prepared. I expect to reach Edgeworth before the month is out.

Roland

He wrote as though Rafe had done no more than warm his chair.

When Rafe finished, silence filled the study. Ezra held out his hand. Rafe gave him the letter. He read it for himself, his expression growing colder with every line.

“At least he has not changed,” Ezra scoffed. “There is comfort in consistency.”

“Very little.”

Ezra turned the page over. “Why now?”

“He knows the estate has recovered.”

“Because of her.”

“Yes.”

Rafe heard the force of the word only after it left him. Ezra looked up. Rafe rose and went to the fire. The logs had burned low, leaving a deep red glow beneath the ash.

Roland abandoned Edgeworth when it was ruined. He left Verity to face his creditors, his tenants, his empty accounts, and every consequence he had been unwilling to bear. Now there was money in the land again. The farms produced. The roofs held. Men trusted the house. Roland meant to return and take possession of the work Verity had done.

Anger tightened beneath Rafe’s ribs.

“When he comes,” Ezra reminded him, “the title returns with him.”

“I know.”

“And the house.”

“I know that as well.”