The Promise of Change - By Rebecca Heflin Page 0,44

saying ‘please, write more rubbish about my life?’”

“Of course not. But your career choice and your penchant for high-profile women make you a favorite target.”

“Yes, Robert. You’d be much happier if I buried myself here on Rutherford and came out only for occasions of state.”

“Don’t be obtuse. Grandmother, may we take Brandy in the study?”

Lady Clara looked between her grandsons, “Whatever you like.”

“Yes, by all means, let’s get this family meeting underway. I have to be in London tonight for an early call tomorrow morning.”

“Your tailor?” Robert asked snidely.

“No, your advisors. They’re trying to determine how to make you more agreeable to voters.”

“Funny.”

The insults continued until they were settled in the study.

“Well, Robert. You called this meeting. Let’s have it.” Alex stood in front of the window overlooking his grandfather’s rose garden, his back to the room, a frown playing across his features.

After their father died, Alex and his mother had protected Robert. Sometimes to a fault. Alex tried to assume the role of father, but a lenient one. Robert had taken the death of their father especially hard, and bitterness in one so young was especially painful to observe.

When Robert took an interest in estate matters, Alex was only too happy to oblige. For one thing, it made Robert happy in a way he seldom was, and for another, it gave Alex time to pursue his own interests.

After Robert read for the law and took a position as a barrister in London, Alex had to assume the reins again, choosing to hire a manager to handle the day-to-day tasks of estate management.

Over the years, Robert had come to resent Alex’s hands-off approach. His brother felt he neglected his duties as Earl to pursue an acting career, which in his eyes was synonymous with playboy. It didn’t matter that the estate and all its interests were meeting, and in some cases, exceeding expectations. From vineyards to media companies, from shipping to publishing, the diverse portfolio greatly reduced the risk and provided a steady income to the estate.

“I’m planning to run for Prime Minister.”

Ah. There it was. The true reason for Robert’s disapproval of Alex’s life. His political ambitions.

Proud of her grandson, Lady Clara rose and kissed him soundly on the cheek. “That’s wonderful. Your father would be so proud.” But Alex knew her enthusiasm was tempered by the additional animosity she realized this course of action would inevitably cause between the brothers.

“And?” Alex turned to Robert.

“And, what?”

“We’ve known this was coming. This announcement is no great revelation. There must be more.” Alex poured himself another two fingers of Brandy, before tossing it back.

Damn, he thought, he wanted to be proud of his brother. He wanted to clap him on the back and congratulate him. Drink to his brother’s success instead of to steady his own temper. If Robert wasn’t so damned sanctimonious.

“Your career is a detriment to mine. I’d like to ask you again to reconsider. Take up full-time residence once more at Rutherford as the Earl.” Robert took a deep breath, and dragging his fingers through his hair, faced his bother. “And if not, I’m asking you to relinquish the title. To me.”

Alex heard his grandmother’s sharp intake of breath.

Before Alex could respond, Robert continued. “It would greatly help my chances, and you’ve never wanted it . . .” His voice trailed off.

“I am the Earl of Rutherford!” Alex’s booming actor’s voice resonated in the wood-paneled room.

“Then start behaving like it!”

“Fine. I’ll begin by asking you to leave. Now.” His voice subdued, he turned back to the window.

“You don’t mean that—”

“Yes. I do. Please leave.”

Lady Clara rose and quietly asked Robert to leave. She would call him later. “It is for the best,” she told him.

Alex waited a beat or two, until certain Robert had left. “Do you have concerns about the financial stability of the estate?” He didn’t turn to look at his grandmother.

“No.” Lady Clara walked up behind Alex and reached up to put her hands on his taut shoulders. “But Robert is right,” she said quietly. At Alex’s sharp look, she clarified, “Not about relinquishing your title. I will speak with him about that.”

“But you do have a duty to your family and to your title. Stop all this nonsense and direct your inimitable skills to sustaining our heritage . . . your heritage.”

Alex turned to look at his grandmother, his face grim. “Grandmother, you of all people should know the importance of following your dreams.”

“You’re right. I followed my dreams and married the love of