The effrontery of the man! “But I didn’t, and she knows me.” This family got under his skin and drove him mad all too quickly. “Obviously, there is no point in discussing this further, and I have an appointment yet this afternoon. How long is Brand expected to be out?”
“He won’t return until dinner.” The countess gave him a tight smile. “Come to our rout in a few days. You can talk to him then.”
“Very well.” John gave a terse nod. “My father is expecting me.”
“No!” Caroline’s exclamation was so soft he almost missed it. She threw him a look of panic. “Talking stay and tea?” She huffed, for it no doubt frustrated her when the words were jumbled. “Will you stay for tea and conversation?” When she slowed her pacing, the speech was flawless.
Isobel snorted. “Dear Caroline, you cannot manage to talk while company is underfoot. It’s best we keep that to the family.”
Damnation. It seemed they all treated Caroline as if she were something to be avoided. Which was sad because they were missing out on the best parts of her. His chest tightened. “Not today, Miss Storme, but I will come for the rout.”
Would she also attend?
She nodded but remained silent, once more turning her attention to the window.
“Do enjoy the rest of your day, Your Lordship, Ladyships.” Then he took his leave, but Caroline’s situation was never far from his mind.
*
Thirty minutes later,he entered his father’s study at the Grosvenor Square residence.
“Good afternoon, Father.”
Over the years, his sire had grown older and more frail than he’d been since the last time John had seen him, but he was still a powerful man. Thinning gray hair, sallow cheeks, bloodshot eyes completed the picture of destruction. A half-filled bottle of brandy sat on his desk, resting next to a snifter that retained a measure of the amber liquid. The stink of liquor and stale cigar smoke clung to the room.
“You are not looking well.” Living that dissolute lifestyle would hasten him to an early grave, and frankly, John wasn’t ready for that.
“Who are you to say when I haven’t seen you for years?” Tension brewed between them, compounded by the fact the baron continued to regard his account ledgers instead of giving John his full attention.
“I merely showed concern for your health.” No, his father hadn’t changed, and at this late date, it was doubtful he ever would.
“Bah.” The baron took a sip of his brandy. “Why are you in London? Thought you’d washed your hands of life here to be a layabout in Ipswich.”
“I’m hardly that anymore.” John tamped the urge to bit off a snippy reply. “I came to see you as well as meet with prospective clients.” His father didn’t deserve to hear anything about his life and the success he was finding. Respect begat respect. This man hadn’t earned even a drop of it. “You should stop drinking, Father.”
“Why do you care?” He waved a hand. “You’ve not been around. I don’t need to extend my miserable existence for you.”
“So I can see, and you’re certainly intent to destroy the title while you have it.” Damn, he’d let his father irritate him. “And why should I be in your company after the way you treated Mark and me over the years?”
He hadn’t meant to mention his brother, but that was still a very open wound, further ripped wide by seeing his sire.
With a definite glint in his eye, the baron lifted his snifter and then drained it. “Ungrateful boy. What do you know about it?”
“At least I’m not a drunkard.” It was one of the things he detested about his father, and the more the man drank, the more angry and violent he grew. When John drank, he knew his limits and stopped there. It had taken many years to learn, but he had.
Silence reigned in the room.
Finally, John sighed. “You’re killing yourself.”
“That is my prerogative.”
“You’re a selfish blackguard. Always have been. I’ve tried over the years to make amends with you, but you’re incapable of apologizing.”
His father shrugged. “I’ve done nothing I’m ashamed of.” He poured out another measure of brandy into the snifter. “And you’re the selfish one. You’ve not deigned to learn anything about the title or the life you’ll need to lead here.”
Knots of worry pulled tight in John’s gut. “I don’t want the title or anything that comes with it. Besides, you’ve ruined it, run everything into the ground, buried the rest beneath a mountain of debt. Where is the pride in that?”
“It was mine to do as I pleased.” He narrowed his eyes and his voice increased. “It has always been mine. You and your brother had no right to try to dictate to me how I should live.”