Lady Guinevere and the Rogue with a Brogue - Julie Johnstone Page 0,11
you do not even know the women on my list yet—” Mr. Benedict continued.
Asher narrowed his eyes. It irked him that his father had known what Asher’s gut reaction would be.
“I would encourage you to think of those who depend upon you.”
Conniving, scheming swine…There was no doubt now that his father had known.
“I’m certain you are sitting there seething.”
Asher grunted.
“I’m also certain you will think of a way to do the right thing and triumph over me while doing it.”
As if Asher gave a damn what his father thought.
“To my utter shame and regret, I did not have enough fortitude to think of a solution in my own time to reject my father’s demands to divorce your mother, but perhaps you do not have the backbone to do what it takes to triumph, either. We shall see.”
It was definitely a challenge. Even from the grave, the man was goading him.
“After all, you did wed Elizabeth without so much as a query into the heart of the matter; though, I confess, I questioned things too late myself.”
What in God’s name was that supposed to mean? The heart of the matter? His father had questioned what too late? Asher drummed his fingers on the desk, irritated with his lack of answers.
After a moment, he realized Mr. Benedict was not reading anymore. “Is that it?” Asher asked.
Mr. Benedict looked up from the foolscap. “No, Your Grace. Your father instructed me to pause here, and then—” The solicitor looked from Asher to Pierce but did not say anything.
“And then what?” Asher demanded as Pierce went from looking bored to irritated to, hell, Asher didn’t know what that look on his brother’s face was, but it was one he’d never seen.
“Lord Pierce?” Mr. Benedict asked.
Pierce’s expression became what could only be described as mutinous. “Have you forgotten how to read?” he snapped at the solicitor. “Get on with what I need to do and abandon whatever nonsense my father dreamed up in his mind. He was not in his head in the end, as we all know.”
Mr. Benedict sighed. “Lord Pierce, your father instructed me to read this to you at this juncture: There are no ties that bind the mind as tight as those of guilt. And a bound mind cannot think upon all it needs to address, such as being purposeless and repenting. I express my most heartfelt apology for spoiling you, for I believe that is the weakness that has led you astray. I did love you as best as I was able, but my remorse for what my own weakness cost me, I know, made me a hard man.”
Asher swallowed, uncomfortable with how his chest had tightened at his father’s unexpectedly human words. He had thought the man devoid of guilt, as he’d never expressed it, but it seemed Asher had thought wrong. He studied Pierce, who looked wholly uncomfortable now. Asher didn’t know to what his father’s words referred as the man had purposely prevaricated, but he supposed it was not his right to know what sins Pierce needed to repent. God knew Asher had sins he could ask forgiveness for, as well, and he sure as hell would never confess them before witnesses. So he wouldn’t question Pierce on it.
“Is that all?” he asked again instead.
“Yes. All that remains to be read is the list of the three ladies your father selected for you.” Mr. Benedict hitched a bushy black eyebrow. “If you wish to hear them?”
“And if I don’t?” Asher asked.
“I’m afraid if you do not hear them now and set your courtship in motion by tomorrow at the Antwerp ball, my instructions are to prepare the legal documents for your brother to inherit the money and the unentailed properties.”
“He doesn’t want to hear the names,” Pierce snapped. “He’s made that clear.”
Mr. Benedict looked to Asher. “Your Grace?”
Asher felt as if he was at the precipice of something he didn’t fully understand yet. It was unnerving. He liked being in control, and even dead, his father was somehow managing the situation. His gut reaction was to say no, but his rational side, the side that reminded him of those whose livelihoods depended on him, told him to at least hear the names, meet the ladies, and then decide how to proceed.
He kept replaying one thing in his mind that his father had said. Perhaps you do not have the backbone to do what it takes to triumph, either. We shall see.