Chapter 5
Something was happening this night.
He didn’t know what, but Ajax’s words were thundering through him. Alice’s words were still leaving him in torment. She wanted to know who she truly was, what she truly wanted.
That request was echoing through him, resonating with a shocking power.
He’d been so confident all of his life. How could he not be? He’d been raised by parents who loved him, in a family that everyone admired, or at least was jealous of. He had everything anyone could ever want. And he often felt great disappointment in himself that it had not been enough.
He felt as if he was merely coasting through his life, like a ship on the sea that had never had to face and survive a storm. He was untested.
No, he’d sailed in calm waters his whole life. And he needed advice, advice on how to help her endure the storm that very likely could come.
And so there was only one place he wished to go.
The coach drove through the dark night of London and stopped outside his grandfather’s opulent townhome, the home where his mother lived when she had her first Season.
His mother had been one of the greatest forces in his life, but she had been shaped by a man who, much like his grandmother, the dowager duchess, had come from the very bottoms of society.
He had clawed his way up through sheer audacity and will.
And how Deimos admired him. Because so many, when they became as wealthy as his grandfather did, did not help people.
But his grandfather did everything he could, using the vast wealth he had earned to lift people up, to make them happy, to educate them, no matter how hard it was.
Deimos shoved open the coach door, jumped down to the pavement, stared up at the beautiful townhome that was just off Green Park, strode up the steps, and the door swung open before he could even knock.
The butler, an excellent fellow who knew him well and anticipated his grandfather’s every need, merely said, “The study, Mr. Briarwood.”
Deimos smiled at the man who made sure his grandfather’s home ran like clockwork. He headed through the foyer, crossing over the black and white panels of the floor, and did not hesitate to rush up the wide stairs, with its ornately carved banister.
He knew he was always welcome in this house, so he strode down the hall decked with paintings of far-flung battles and ships. The halls were quiet now because all of the children had grown.
At night, his grandfather took his ease and read by the fire. Deimos knew that his grandfather was lonely sometimes, and he tried to come visit as often as he could, just as his mother did. And he was certainly always welcome with the Briarwoods.
But this was going to be a very different sort of visit, and he realized what an utter fool he had always been. He had never asked his grandfather for advice. That was about to change.
He knocked gently upon the door.
“Come!” his grandfather’s rough accent bounced through the panel.
Deimos slipped through the door and stopped in the beautiful study. Its walls were covered with paintings of far-off places. Places his grandfather had not gone because he did not wish to leave England or his work.
The fire crackled in the hearth. His grandfather sat upon a beautiful leather chair bound with brass tacks, and he was still reading.
After a moment, he looked up, pulled off his spectacles, and his entire face changed. “My boy, you’ve come to see me.”
“Oh, Grandpapa, I’m so glad to be here.” He crossed to the man, pulled him up, and took him in a great hug.
“Sit down, sit down,” his grandfather urged. “Shall I call for a repast?”
“No, thank you, I cannot eat at present, and I do not think I can sit, Grandpapa. Will it bother you if I stand by the fire?”
“Not at all, my boy,” his grandfather said, easing back down into his chair. “I’m simply happy to see you. I’m always happy when you come to visit me. I have heard that you have been seen with a certain young lady again. Is it true?”
Deimos’s brows shot up. “Does everyone know, Grandpa?”
“Of course everyone knows. You know there are almost no secrets in the ton, unless, of course, one is better at keeping them than most. And the Briarwoods are actually quite terrible at secrets. They always get out.”
He laughed. “Yes, I suppose that’s what causes me concern. You see, Grandpapa, I need to understand something.”
His grandfather closed his beautifully bound book, placed it on the table beside him, and then bridged his fingers, which showed the care of many years of work. “Ask away, my boy. I am happy to answer anything that you might have questions about.”
“I think I need your advice.”
He sucked in his breath. “I beg your pardon.” His grandfather sat a little straighter. “Of course, my boy, I can share my experiences with you.”
Deimos pressed his lips together, gathering the courage to say what was in his heart. And then he rushed, “How did you do it, Grandpapa? How did you become like you are?”
His grandfather blinked. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Well, I just go about my life, living it,” he said, hating the truth of how privileged he was, “because I have perfect ease. Everything has always been given to me. I’ve not had to fight for anything. I think I’m a good man, but I don’t know what to do.”
His grandfather cocked his head to the side, not at all distressed. If anything, he looked pleased by Deimos’s emotions.
“Ah, I see. You are awakening, my boy. It is what happens to every man, to every woman. It is an essential moment, and I am glad you are having yours. You must not neglect it. Too many people do, and so they never have the chance to become better. Now that you feel this way, you can change. You can grow. You can do as I did.”
He shook his head. “I still don’t understand how. Why don’t I live with your intensity? Why have I not done great things like you?”
His grandfather drew in a breath and pursed his lips, considering.
“Well, my boy, you don’t have the same drive that I did, because you have all those things you mentioned.
I was driven by hunger, by fear, by anger, and you know none of those things, nor would I wish them upon you.
You must understand that. I could never wish the suffering I had upon you, so it is perfectly all right if you don’t have the drive that I do. ”
Deimos gripped the mantel, the carved marble pressing into his palm. “But I feel like a failure because of it, Grandpapa.”
“I will not hear you say that again,” his grandfather intoned. “Do you know when you will be a failure, my boy?”
He looked to his grandfather. “When?”
“When you stop helping people. And aren’t you helping people now?”
He smiled softly. “Yes, I suppose I am.”
“Then never stop,” his grandfather said most seriously. “If you never stop helping people, you’ll never be a failure.”
And suddenly, with those words, Deimos looked at his life in a new way, at all the interactions he’d had, the people he’d encouraged.
He was no captain of industry, or a great member of Parliament. He wasn’t a soldier. But he had spent his whole life helping people, defending them, building them up.
“My life does have meaning then,” Deimos whispered.
His grandfather stood and crossed to him, and his wrinkled face, a weathered map of all the hardships he’d endured and all the cares that he had, creased with emotion.
“My boy, you give joy wherever you go,” his grandfather assured.
“I have a great deal of money that allows you to do that. It is true. But do you not think it is important to spread joy, to spread happiness? If everyone in the world were like you, Deimos, it would be a wonderful place indeed. Use that,” he said.
“Use that for good, and you will have lived a wonderful life indeed.”
“You’ve given that to me, haven’t you?” he said to his grandfather.
“I beg your pardon?” his grandfather whispered, the pain of his life still there, the pain of all he’d endured to make his children’s and his grandchildren’s lives what they were.
“You’ve given me the ability to do good,” Deimos declared. “You had to be hard, you had to be strong, and you had to fight.”
“And I sometimes had to do things that I wish I hadn’t,” his grandfather said softly, looking away.
Pride filled Deimos. Pride for his grandfather who had come from a world the ton disdained. “But you’ve made it so I never had to do those things, Grandpapa. You and, of course, the Briarwoods. I am so very lucky.”
His grandfather’s shoulders eased, and his face warmed with love. “And if you know that, my boy, then you have already won. Keep winning, keep choosing, keep seeing that my gift to you, gotten at great cost, must be used.”
He nodded, and he knew what he’d do. He would help Alice, just as his Uncle Ajax had told him. Even though his heart had feared it, he would keep helping people. He would keep doing good. Damn the consequences.