The Viscount and the Heiress by Dominique Eastwick

Author:Dominique Eastwick [Eastwick, Dominique]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Decadent Publishing
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Jonathon watched until the carriage rolled out of sight. “Peter, take the food into the kitchen, will you?”

“What’s in here?” The little boy’s stomach growled, and fury filled Jonathon again. “Patrick, come and see. Jonathon brought food.”

“I guess food is far more exciting than you.” Matthew, the middle brother, chuckled. “I’m relieved to have you home.”

“This isn’t my home. Where is the earl?”

“In his bedchamber.” Gabriel waited until the younger boys were out of earshot before continuing. “I don’t think he will make it through the night. Perhaps he has been waiting for you.”

“Then, let us get this over with, shall we?” He took the stairs with determination. “Did you get the money I sent this month?”

“We did.”

He paused on the landing. That his brothers were going hungry infuriated him. “Why didn’t you tell me it wasn’t enough?”

“We shouldn’t be your responsibility.”

“But you are.” He didn’t bother to knock. The room, like the rest of the house, was cold and sparsely furnished. The bed had been moved as close to the fireplace as one could get without it catching on fire. The frail old man coughed, and, as he quieted, Jonathon came into his line of sight. Gayish skin covered bones with little muscle mass, and his face resembled more of a skull than the strong man he had been a decade ago. Jonathon wouldn’t have recognized his paternal parent on the street, had they passed. Not that he believed the man could make it to the chamber pot on his own legs. “Milord.”

Hollow blue eyes stared up at him as frail fingers wiped spittle mixed with blood from his mouth. “The prodigal son returns.”

“As you see.”

“Even the devil himself can’t outrun the Grim Reaper.” Coughing started again, but, even now, Jonathon couldn’t bring himself to care. “There is a great deal you will need to do.”

“I am sure there is.”

“I just hope you are a better lord than I was.”

Jonathon paused at that. Could the man actually have regrets? Could he be asking for absolution in his final hours? Was that why he had summoned his eldest home? The one whose name he hadn’t even spoken in years. If he was indeed asking, then Jonathon would need to open himself up for forgiveness.

“Do you think I don’t know the shape of the estates? I know how you despise me, have since your mother put her spoon in it. But your hate for me drove you to succeed. I made you the man you have become.” He coughed and closed his eyes. “I can’t change the bastard I am. I see you don’t plan to argue with me.”

“Did you call me here to tell me this?” Anger resurged in his gut. “To gloat about your perceived success where I am concerned? Believe me, if you knew how I was succeeding, you would expire right here and now.”

“Jonathon, enough,” Gabriel warned from the door.

“I called you here because you are about to be the head of the family. My title will pass down to you.

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