Drawn to Lord Ravenscar. Anne Herries

face. ‘Forgive me, sir. I should not have stayed away so long.’

      ‘We both know why you went,’ Lord Ravenscar said and his voice was stronger as he held his son’s hand. ‘Your brother was dear to us both. Do you think I did not know how you loved him? We were both in awe of him, Paul—yes, I, too, for he enchanted us all, did he not?’

      ‘Yes, sir.’ Paul’s lean face tightened with pain. Bronzed by the sun, he had a craggy, weathered look that made him seem older than his years. ‘He was all that you could ever have wished for in a son or I in a brother. I longed to be like him, but I fear I failed...’

      ‘You did not fail in my eyes,’ his father said. ‘I have wanted to tell you, Paul. You were always as much my son...but you were different. I saw your mother in you, Paul. She had your hair and your eyes—Mark took after my father; he, too, was a man much larger than life and I was in awe of him.’

      ‘I could never live up to his standards. You deserved a son who could make you proud, sir. I would willingly have exchanged my life for his.’

      ‘No,’ his father said, shaking his head. ‘You make me proud, Paul. You might have gone off the rails, drinking and gambling—God knows, many would in your shoes. Instead, you buckled down to work and I know you have done well, for your commander wrote to me. He valued you, my son—and so do I.’

      ‘Father...’ Paul choked on the words, overwhelmed. ‘I wish it had been me... Mark should have been here to care for you and the estate.’

      ‘I would have given my life for him—for either of you. Mark was all that you say. But...if I speak only the truth, I believe you may be better placed to take care of the estate and our people. I have neglected them, Paul. In my grief, first for your mother and then for Mark. Oh, your cousin has done all that needed to be done, as far as it goes, but to be the lord of such an estate means more. The people need someone who cares for their welfare... I fear Mark was made for larger things.’

      ‘I do not understand you, Father?’

      ‘Mark would never have been happy to live here for long. He would have sought something more...politics or the London scene. He might have been a great general or a leader of men. I do not say he would have neglected the estate, but he spoke to me the day before he died...told me that he intended to ask you to help run the estate. I believe he had some idea of importing tea or some such thing. He was too restless a spirit to stay tamely at home.’

      ‘Mark wanted me to be his agent?’

      ‘Yes, I believe he had it in mind. He told me that he preferred an army life and would find it hard to settle in the country. I am not sure what he meant to do, for I think he was still considering his career. I know something troubled him, though he would not speak of it.’

      ‘I had no idea,’ Paul said and frowned. ‘Are you certain of this, Father?’

      ‘Yes. I always knew he would find it hard—this house, this land, they were not large enough for him, Paul. There was something in him that needed more and I think he might have grown discontent had he been forced to devote his life to the estate.’

      Paul was bewildered, for he had always loved his home and liked nothing more than to ride its fields, to talk with the tenants and entertain his neighbours. This surely was a place of beauty and content, enough to make any man feel his life well spent in caring for the land and the people who worked it.

      ‘I am not sure what to think, sir. He said nothing of this to me—though I knew there was something on his mind. I...believed there was another woman, someone he loved, but could not marry for some reason.’

      ‘I dare say there may have been. He spoke vaguely of being uncertain of his own mind. I do not know what might have happened had he lived, for I think... I fear he may have discovered that he had made a mistake.’

      ‘A mistake? What can you mean?’

      ‘I believe he asked Miss Dawlish to marry him on the spur of the moment and then realised he did not truly wish to wed her. Naturally, he could not jilt her for he was above all a gentleman—but I think he was troubled. Had he lived...’

      As his father sighed, Paul’s mind struggled to take in all that he had been told. It seemed that there were aspects of his brother that he had not suspected. If Mark did not particularly want to be the master of Ravenscar...if he had not truly loved Lucy...but, no, his father was mistaken. Any man fortunate to know Lucy, as Mark had, must love her.

      ‘I can hardly credit it,’ he said to his father. ‘I am sorry for it, if it is true—but Mark appeared to be so pleased with the world. He spoke of the wedding and of making the estate stronger, more prosperous.’

      ‘It was his intention to improve things, especially for our tenants,’ Lord Ravenscar said. ‘He spoke of pulling old cottages down and building new...and, as I said, I believe he hoped to make the money for these improvements by a venture into trade.’

      ‘As Adam and Hallam have with their wine importing,’ Paul said. ‘I do not think I have such bold ideas in my head, Father. I cannot see myself investing in cargoes or selling wine or tea. I think an improvement may be made to the land by new methods of farming—and I should like to breed horses if I can afford it.’

      ‘You are a countryman after my own heart,’ his father said and smiled. ‘It was my ambition to breed fine horses at one time, but I was too lazy. If you have your mother’s blood in you, you may achieve more, for she was always busy.’

      ‘You have never gambled your fortune away, sir, as many gentlemen do. I shall have no debts to settle, as my cousins did.’

      ‘I would have loaned them money, you know, but they were too proud to ask and in the end solved their own problems. I wish that I could have had more time with you, Paul—time to teach you things you should know, but Anders is a good man. He will help you...and Hallam knows the estate well.’

      ‘Hallam has done his share,’ Paul said. ‘I shall do well enough—and I still have you to guide me, sir.’

      His father’s hand trembled a little on the bed. ‘I fear not for much longer, my son—but I shall die in peace now that I have seen you again. All I want is for you to be happy.’

      ‘I shall do my best to oblige you, sir. I shall make you proud of me and the estate will not suffer if I can prevent it.’

      ‘I know you will do all I could ask, my boy,’ his father said and smiled at him. ‘But it is not just the estate...you must find a wife to make you comfortable and you will need at least one son—more is always better.’ They were both silent, for they had ample cause to know what might happen to the rightful heir.

      ‘Yes, Father,’ Paul said, feeling a lump in his throat as his father lay back and closed his eyes. ‘I shall remember. I will look about for a comfortable wife...’

      No answer came and he knew that his father was sleeping. He had wanted to say so much in a short time and it had exhausted him.

      Paul felt the sting of tears. He feared that his father could not live many days, for his strength was failing, but God had given them this short time together. Lord Ravenscar had given him hope, because he felt he had his blessing. Somehow, their talk had eased his grief in a way that the months of self-imposed exile had not. He should have stayed here with his father, got to know him better...but at least they’d had this time together.

      Mark would always be his hero, but the feeling of having always been inadequate had lessened. His father had not thought him a failure—he trusted him to take care of the estate and its people. Paul would not let him down...and he would look for a lady to make his wife. It was his duty to his father and to the estate.

      He thought fleetingly of Lucy, then dismissed her from his mind. She would not look at him, but there were other ladies almost as lovely...and perhaps one of them would be happy to be his wife and give him the sons the estate needed.

      Chapter Two