Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
The following morning, William slumped into the chair his brother so lovingly gestured for him to sit in the moment he walked into his library.
A loving gesture may be a stretch, since it was more of a flick of the hand than anything else.
He rarely visited his eldest sibling, a narcissist to the core whom he could barely tolerate.
These days, he preferred to keep his distance from the world he was born into.
It had not helped him or his sister. The younger children of the Marquess of Hartwell were of no use since his father had his son and heir.
The other two offspring could go hang as far as his father had cared.
His lack of attention led to their sister falling into disrepute, using laudanum, and then making choices that were not in her best interests.
"It's been several months, brother. I feared the worst until I learned you're still running that damnable gentlemen's club.
You're a rich man, brother to a marquess.
Why keep shaming the family with this insistence on work and trade?
It isn't necessary. You should focus on marrying this year.
There are many fine debutantes—some who've even caught my eye—who might interest you. "
“I have no interest in your social sphere, the club is going well, and I enjoy it to boot. I shall not be leaving it anytime soon, not even for all the pretty air-headed debutantes in town. You may have your fill of them, I shall not.”
His brother pursed his lips, a frown between his overly exuberant brows.
“Well, I’m glad the club is doing well for you.
That is something at least. And it is perhaps fortunate that you’ve already acquired your inheritance from our father, for that is the matter I need to discuss with you.
I’m going to have to sell Ivybrook House.
The property isn’t entailed, and although it was our mother’s inheritance from our grandmother, the home will fetch a good price, enough to get me out of the financial woes I’m in. ”
William froze at this news. Sell their mother’s beloved cottage?
Where some of his happiest childhood memories came from?
“What do you mean, sell it? What financial woes are you in? Have you been gambling again?” His brother had a habit of spending more than he could afford.
Ever since he’d been at Cambridge, their father had tried to keep him under control, and yet, all these years later, he still had not learned his lesson.
But mother’s estate? “Sarah is buried there. If you sell the home, we’ll no longer have access to visit her grave.
How could you allow this to happen?” He wanted to pummel his sibling.
An uncaring, selfish prick. He shook his head.
He was still the same useless ass, unworthy of his title or the responsibilities that came with it.
Hartwell shrugged. “It is necessary, and I’m certain that whomever I sell the property to will allow us to pay our respects whenever we wish.”
William raised a brow, not believing that for a moment.
Not everyone was so generous and willing to allow strangers to roam about their land just because they once owned it.
“That is unlikely and not something you should say when you don’t know if that is true or not.
” William paused. “How much are you in? Are you at risk of losing Hartwell Abbey? Can you support the tenant farms and the many families and staff who rely on us?”
“For now, I can. With the sale of Ivybrook, all will be well, and my forthcoming marriage, of course, will bring in more blunt. As I said, this Season has delivered quite an array of heiresses. One in particular has me very curious indeed, and I do believe that I shall pursue her. Marry her, inherit her dowry, and secure the estate for many years to come.”
“Or until you gamble it all away yet again…” William sighed, running a hand over his jaw, at his wits' end with his sibling and his disastrous life. “And does your future bride know that your marriage to her is merely a contractual duty, a transfer of funds from her purse to yours?” Poor woman. The notion that anyone could marry in such stagnant, benign ways was repulsive. Not that William was looking to marry, but he’d always hoped that should he ever have the misfortune to be led astray in such a way, he would at the very least like his bride. Perhaps even desire her.
“All debutantes know that marriage in our world is merely transactional. And while I shall woo her, sweep her off her feet for a week or two before making it all official, the marriage will not continue along that same vein. We shall breed, of course, she will return to the Abbey and look after the estate, and I shall spend most of my time in town. I will expect her in London during the Season, but otherwise I shall not be plagued by her for most of the year. A most agreeable situation, do you not think?”
William stared at him, sure his brother must have the pox—or something equally disturbing—if he could say such things without a chill.
It certainly sent one down his throat. How could he be so unfeeling? So cold. Their mother had not raised them to be that way, no matter how distant their father had been. But then he’d only been distant to Sarah and himself, never Phillip.
At least his father had never been a gambler; the estate was among England’s wealthiest before Phillip claimed it. Now, with their mother's estate at risk, William knew he’d never forgive his brother.
“No, it is not an agreeable situation. You cannot marry a woman under such circumstances. It is cruel.” William’s voice cracked slightly, emotion thickening his words.
“As a brother to a sister who was mistreated by the opposite sex, by men of our ilk, you cannot allow your wife to be treated thus.”
Phillip scoffed. “Our sister turned into a whore.”
“Because of men like you who promised her a future and then did not deliver. And she was drugged, and did not know what she was doing. She wasn’t even eighteen when she was mistreated.
” William’s voice trembled with anger and grief, his hands tightening on the chair’s arms as he remembered his sister’s suffering.
His brother glanced out the window, a muscle working in his jaw.
Surely he would see sense. Not to speak so cruelly about their beloved sister or women in general.
“Her fall from grace was her own doing. And Lady Clementine will know what a marriage to a marquess will entail. She will be perfectly content. Once I put a baby in her belly, that shall shut her up and she will be out of my way to allow me to carry on as I wish.”
“Lady Clementine?” William leaned forward in his chair and cleared his throat at the sudden dryness that affected him. The pit of his stomach churned. Surely he had heard wrong. “Do you mean to say that Lady Clementine Ravensmere is your proposed future wife?”
“The very one.” Phillip smiled, his eyes wide with eagerness. “Have you met her? Do you know of whom I speak?”
“I know whom you speak.” And over his dead body would he allow Phillip to marry her. Not that he particularly enjoyed the woman, but she deserved someone better than his brother. Her enthusiasm for life would wither away and die under the command of his sibling.
“Is she not the handsomest woman you’ve ever seen? She will suit me well, and I think we will make quite the striking pair, if not the most powerful couple in town. She’s the daughter and now sister-in-law to a duke, and I’m a marquess. We’re made for each other, yes.”
“Hmm.” William’s blood ran cold. “Have you started courting her yet?”
“Tonight,” he said. “I shall be introduced by Ravensmere, and then make her fall in love with me. It should not be hard.”
William fought not to roll his eyes. His brother was unbearable at times, and right now, he’d like nothing more than to give him a good upper cut to his chiseled jaw. “What ball will this be at?”
“The Cecil’s ball. I’ve been informed by Lady Cecil herself that the Ravensmeres have been invited and the invitation has been accepted. With her dowry, which I hear is in the league of thirty thousand pounds, and the sale of Ivybrook, all will be well for the Hartwell seat.”
“Perhaps stay out of the gambling hells, and it shall stay that way,” William couldn’t help but quip. He stood, having had enough of his brother for one afternoon. “I’ll see myself out.”
Horribly, and perhaps in the pit of his despair and grief, William couldn’t help but think right at this moment that the wrong sibling had died. Bitterness and sorrow twisted inside him, leaving his thoughts dark and heavy.