Page 20 of A Wager With A Rake (Wicked Widows #32)

Three weeks later

Court

T he carriage swayed and creaked as it rattled along the rutted dirt road, jostling Court from his melancholic reverie.

He stared blankly out the window at the passing countryside, seeing none of it.

Thoughts of Theodosia consumed his mind, as had been the case for every waking moment since he’d left her alone in bed a few weeks ago.

After fleeing Rosewood like a coward, he’d returned to his country estate and promptly drowned himself in brandy.

For days, he stumbled about in a drunken haze, snapping viciously at any unfortunate servant who crossed his path.

He ceased bathing and hardly ate. Nothing mattered anymore. Not without her.

Court raked a hand through his unkempt hair and sighed heavily.

The heartbreak felt like a leaden weight in his chest, crushing the breath from his lungs.

He wasn’t sure how he would ever recover from his never-ending longing for Theodosia.

He knew it was for the best, to give her a chance at a happy life, but being apart from her was pure agony.

Closing his eyes, he pictured her lovely face—the warmth and mischief that sparkled in her stormy grey eyes when she laughed, the full lips that felt like heaven against his own, the softness of her dark curls when he’d stroked her hair.

Court groaned aloud. He was ruined for anyone else.

The notion of taking another woman to his bed held no appeal whatsoever.

It was Theodosia he craved with every fiber of his being.

He was nothing but a fool. The greatest fool who ever lived. He allowed himself to fall in love, knowing it would only lead to the misery and loneliness he was left with when he wasn’t good enough to be her husband.

Court leaned his head back against the plush seat and willed any sense of relief, even if for a brief moment, from the agony that plagued him.

The carriage hit a particularly deep rut, jolting Court from his tormented musings. He swiped a hand down his face and straightened his posture, remembering his purpose for making the journey at all. He’d finally cleaned himself up and decided he couldn’t consume another drop of brandy.

He pulled the list from his pocket. He’d accomplish the last thing he set out to do and he’d have proven to his dead father that he was a far better man than the previous earl had been.

Needing the distraction and recalling that he still had an outstanding matter that required his attention, he executed his plan to right the final wrong his father committed. Even if it would only occupy him for a couple of days, it was at least something he could do and feel somewhat useful.

The carriage rattled to a halt before a cluster of small homes. Court stepped down onto the packed dirt, his boots kicking up small puffs of dust. He surveyed the dilapidated cottages with a heavy heart, knowing one of them housed the final secret of his father’s shameful past.

He approached the shabbiest dwelling, little more than a hovel with a sagging thatched roof and crumbling stone walls. Court rapped his knuckles against the weathered wood of the door. It creaked open a crack and a weary female face peered out, etched with lines of hardship and worry.

“Can I help you?” the woman asked, her voice thin and reedy. Suspicion glinted in her eyes as she took in Court’s fine attire.

“Are you June?” Court inquired gently. She was still a beautiful woman, even as she’d aged and lived a life of hard work. At her guarded nod, he continued, “I am Harcourt Eliot, son of the late Earl of St. Germans. I wondered if I might have a word with you.”

The woman’s eyes widened, and her face paled. “The earl? But why would…” Her gaze darted past Court, searching for a trap. Finding none, she reluctantly stepped back. “Come in then, m’lord.”

Court ducked his head to enter the low doorway.

The interior was as dismal as he’d feared—dirt floor, tattered curtains, a few broken worn pieces of furniture.

As his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he noticed a young boy peeking out from behind June’s skirts.

The child had an achingly familiar look about him, from the unruly dark curls to the proud jut of his chin.

Court inhaled sharply. It was like looking at a reflection of his younger self.

“Your son?” he asked June, though he already knew the answer in his bones.

She nodded, laying a protective hand atop the boy’s head. “His name is Eli.”

“Eli,” Court repeated, emotions clogging his throat. He crouched down to the child’s eye level. “Hello, Eli. I’m your brother, Court.”

Court cleared his throat, glancing between June and Eli. “I know this is unexpected, but I recently learned of my father’s… connection to you. He should have done right by you both long ago and has since passed away. But I intend to fulfill that duty in his stead, if you’ll allow me.”

June’s brows furrowed. “What are you proposing, m’lord?” She gripped the boy’s shoulders protectively. “Please don’t take my son.”

“Please, call me Court.” He straightened, meeting her gaze directly. “I’d like for you and Eli both to come live at my estate. You’ll have a comfortable home of your own and Eli can receive a proper education. Everything will be provided for.”

“Leave our home?” June looked stricken, yet also hopeful at the idea. “But we’ve never… I couldn’t possibly impose… It’s such a generous offer.”

“Please,” Court said firmly. “It’s truly the least I can do for my flesh and blood.”

She nodded slowly, tears welling in the corners of her eyes.

Court turned to Eli, softening his tone. “What do you say, Eli? Would you like to learn lots of new things? We have a sister, Rebecca, and you already have a young cousin, with another on the way.”

Eli’s eyes, so like Court’s own, lit up with wonder. “Could I ride a horse? And learn to read? I have always wanted to learn how to do both.”

“Absolutely.” Court grinned. It was the first sign of happiness he’d felt in weeks.

Court turned to June. “Why don’t I leave you to think about the matter and return tomorrow afternoon. You can pack the things you wish to bring and bid farewell to any friends before we depart.”

“Thank you, Court,” the woman said, wrapping her arm around Eli’s shoulders.

He nodded to them both and departed for the inn.

Another night alone, missing Theodosia.

As the next two weeks passed, Court and Eli grew closer, their natural kinship deepening into genuine affection. The young boy shadowed Court’s every step, soaking up his various tales. In return, Eli shared his own stories and dreams, each one precious to Court’s wounded heart.

Eli constantly peppered him with questions about the estate, the horses, school, and everything in between.

Court answered patiently, an unfamiliar tenderness blossoming in his chest. He hadn’t ever allowed himself to imagine what it might be like to be a father. Eli was his brother, but the boy would still need someone to teach him so many things.

Spending time with Eli wasn’t enough to eliminate the pain of missing Theodosia, but it at least numbed it.

Instead of downing pour after pour of brandy, he taught Eli to ride a horse, took him on a tour of the estate, and ensured that June met some of the other tenants so she might make a few friends of her own.

There was even a gentleman she appeared to have taken a mutual interest in.

They were settling in like the pair were meant to be there.

“You’re my hero,” Eli declared randomly one afternoon as they walked the estate grounds together, his tiny hand clasping Court’s large one. “Just like a knight. I want to grow up to be just like you. I know I cannot be the earl, but I can be a good man, just as you are.”

Court paused, throat tightening with emotion. A hero? A good man? If only that were true. He still felt so unworthy. Not just because of his father’s words, but the way he’d behaved to spite the man.

Laying a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder, Court made a silent vow. He would not fail his brother as their father had failed them both. Come what may, Eli would always know he was loved and valued.

And maybe, just maybe, once he succeeded, Court could learn to see that worth in himself too. One day.

As they neared the house, the clatter of hooves and carriage wheels pulled Court from his thoughts. He turned to see an opulent carriage rolling up the drive, the Mulgrave crest gleaming on its polished doors.

“Rebecca?” he murmured, heart lifting at the surprise arrival of his sister. He’d written to her about Eli, knowing she would welcome their new sibling into the family fold. She had always possessed a gentle soul. She was everything he wasn’t.

As the carriage drew to a halt, the footman leaped down to assist its occupants.

First emerged the Earl of Mulgrave, Rebecca’s husband, Harrison.

He reached back, carefully taking his daughter, Theo, in his arms. She was one year old and already had a cascade of red curls that matched her father’s.

Rebecca had named the girl after Theodosia, and the ache returned to Court’s heart.

Next came Rebecca herself with the help of her husband’s hand, radiant despite the advanced swell of her stomach.

Court hadn’t always been an attentive brother, frequently caught up with his own distractions and vices, but he was truly happy for his sister.

And proud of the loving family she had created for herself.

“Sister, what a delightful surprise!” He approached and enfolded her in a gentle hug, mindful of her condition. “I didn’t expect you to travel in your state.”

Rebecca laughed, returning his embrace with fervor. “As if I could stay away after your letter! I had to meet our brother without delay. Although my husband took a bit of convincing.”

Court extended his hand to Harrison, shaking the hand that wasn’t supporting his niece. “Good man,” Court said approvingly, then tickled his niece’s chin.