“Well, it bears repeating.” Did he appear as confused as he felt with his insides knotted up as they did whenever he thought about his father or his brothers? “I don’t know where to start.” Why the devil would he wish to leave Ipswich and the freedom or fun he had therein? He glanced at his best friend John and shrugged. “Mother wishes for me to come to London.”
A cheer went around the table and George grinned. “Next round’s on you, Captain!”
“Aye, I promised that.” He gestured to a buxom barmaid. “Another beer for my mates.”
She nodded and her doe brown eyes found his. “Whatever you say, Captain.” The invitation in those dark depths was obvious. “I’ll give you that and more.”
Brand ignored her. He wasn’t in the mood for flirtation or finding a shadowy corner to explore beneath her skirts.
Perhaps later, for she was a looker and he had angled for a moment of her time over the past week. Didn’t matter to him what a woman’s rank or position in society—or out of it—was. If they were attractive enough and disease and lice free, he’d bed them.
John Butler—a tall, barrel-chested man who’d sailed with Brand for years—leaned back in his chair. His disheveled golden hair winked in the sun. “Is that what you want to do?”
“Hell no. It’s jolly fun here.” He rolled his eyes. “No responsibilities, no one nagging me about manners or marriage.” He paused and grinned. “And it doesn’t lack for bed partners.”
Jovial laughter went around the table, for it was no secret that doxies, village maids, and the local female gentry alike adored a man of adventure and the seas. All of that came with the added benefit of no outraged fathers claiming ruination of their titled daughters and demanding a quick trip to a parson’s mousetrap. The women of Ipswich were discreet enough, but they also knew he wasn’t the marrying kind. A bit of slap and tickle was what they—and he—desired. Nothing else was ever discussed or implied. Both parties walked away satisfied… in more ways than one.
That was exactly how Brand liked his dealings with the opposite sex. He wasn’t one to find himself tied into domestication or the fetters that marriage brought.
John frowned. “Then write your mother back and decline her offer.”
“She hinted that I should settle down and marry.”
Another round of huzzahs circled through his group.
Philip pounded the table with a fist. “Roast beef for dinner!”
“Aye, I promised that also.” Damn, but his pockets would find a dent before the day was out.
John chuckled. “Bad news, eh? If she only wishes for you to land in a nuptial contract, moving there is not an option. You could visit and should, of course, but you’ve a life here in Ipswich now.”
Not for the first time did Brand wonder about John’s upbringing and life before he’d joined the Navy. The man had told him just enough for an introduction, but the rest didn’t matter, for they’d become fast friends over the years and neither had brought up their pasts for whatever reason. Their relationship didn’t hinge on such things, and Brand wouldn’t push if the other man didn’t wish to share. Lord knew he had enough things on his own conscience that might throw him in a bad light that he didn’t want others to know. He wasn’t one for needless words; perhaps they weren’t ether.
“True,” he finally responded to his friend. Still, the news contained in his mother’s letter rankled. “Apparently, my brothers have found love. Drew is married, with Finn entering that state in a matter of days.”
He remembered them as rough and tumble boys growing up. They’d had adventures as boys do and had fallen into a fair amount of trouble. In school, as their interests divided, he’d drifted apart from the other two. As adults, and especially once their father had died, he didn’t care to spend time with his siblings. Drew was a pompous arse, had been even before he’d assumed the title of earl, and always had their father’s attention. Finn had been the sensitive middle one in need of affirmation. Of the two, Brand was closest to Finn, but they each carried their own wounds and demons, which meant an enormous divide; Mother doted on him. Probably still did, but once Father purchased a commission for him, he’d left home in short order.
And I was left behind, forgotten without expectations.
With nothing to do except create—or chase—scandal depending on his whim, Brand had set the London ton on its ear with his rakish ways. Had it been a bid for attention? He scoffed. Doubtful, but having all eyes on him and tongues wagging wasn’t a bad thing. That penchant for skirt-chasing and dare-entering had eventually embarrassed his father to the point that he’d acted and issued an ultimatum. Gladly Brand had joined the navy and fought against Boney’s forces with all the aplomb with which he’d done everything else.
It didn’t curb his taste for women or scandal, but at least those things happened far enough away from England’s shores that his family wasn’t bothered by them. Not to mention he’d been a damned good sailor.
He chuckled with the memories. “I regret nothing,” he told his mates, though they’d not been privy to his thoughts. However, now that he understood himself better, he needed a proximity to the sea; it made him happy and calm, ready for sailing at a moment’s notice on his sloop he’d named Charlotte. As an homage to a particularly gifted lover he’d had years ago. If one named a boat after someone, they’d never be forgotten, or that was what he’d like to think.
He’d seen too much death in his life. No one deserved to be forgotten to the ages.
John frowned. “Pardon my slowness, but did you say Finn is to be married?”
“I did.” Brand set his mother’s letter aside in favor of taking a swig of his own beer.
“Even though he’s confined to a Bath chair without the use of his lower half?” Astonishment threaded through the man’s tones.
“Aye.”
Philip gawked. He shoved a long hand through his reddish-blond hair. “How’s that then? From what you said, his prick doesn’t work.”
Another round of laughter—ribald this time—filtered through the group. Brand shrugged. “Not sure, but there’s a story there, don’t you think?” No matter how much curiosity to know how his brother had done it burned in Brand’s gut, it wasn’t enough to prompt him to return to London. As soon as he set foot there, his mother would attach herself and he’d never find an escape. He held up the second letter. “Might as well see what the man himself has to say.” While his three friends looked on with varying degrees of interest, he cracked the seal and removed a slip of paper from its envelope.