Page 66

“Cedric was an amazing man.” He swallowed, attempting to keep his emotions at bay. “I think I will always miss him.”

“He really loved you. His loss has been so hard on me, on us. I realize there were so many things that I had never properly considered. I have regrets, so many regrets.” His mother paused and placed her hand over her mouth, blinking several times before continuing.

“I am so glad I have you still and that you will uphold everything he held dear.”

While it took a moment for Theodore to process what his mother had said, he was wary of where his mother was going with the conversation.

He had always known her to be self-centered and conceited though he had hoped that she loved both of her sons, albeit in her own way.

Was it possible that the horrible loss they were experiencing could bring them closer?

He was afraid to wish for such a thing, though it sounded as though she was on the verge of saying that she was pleased with him.

“I want to do my part in ensuring that his legacy lives on.”

“Despite what I may have said before, you are a good boy. I am sure that you will do a fine job. You spoke so pleasingly to everyone that came after the funeral.” As her eyes met his from across the table, a gentle smile appeared on her lips with what appeared to be a hint of pride.

“You were away from home for so long that I think I forgot how capable you are.”

As he watched his mother, Theodore was left speechless. Maybe he was right, and his mother had a heart after all? Who knew his brother’s death would potentially thaw her icy demeanor? Would he finally have a mother worthy of the title, or would he continue to be disappointed?

Darcy could see Theodore’s hands tremble as he sat down at Cedric’s desk, and the sight of his cousin in such anguish caused his heart to ache.

It had only been a few days since the funeral, but reality was already crashing in on Theodore’s grief.

From experience, Darcy knew that bills still needed to be paid and stewards still needed instruction no matter how much grief weighed you down.

Volunteering to help Theodore sort through the mess of Cedric’s desk had been a simple matter for Darcy.

Theodore had always been there for Darcy, trying to support him despite what the rest of his family saw as deficiency.

Now, with Cedric’s death, Theodore was being shoved into a role that he had never been prepared for.

At least when Darcy had gained the responsibility of Pemberley, he had expected it would be his duty at some point.

Theodore had expected a completely different life—a life of battle and blood, not of estates and ballrooms. Not only was Theodore grieving his brother's death, but he also had his entire world turned upside down.

“It does not feel right sitting here,” Theodore finally creaked out. “I do not want to sit here. It makes it too real.”

“I do not think Cedric would ever begrudge you anything, and he would certainly never begrudge you his chair.” Watching Theodore hang his head, Darcy offered a solution. “Would it feel better if you switched chairs? There are plenty of chairs in this room. We could move them around.”

Standing, Theodore pulled Cedric’s chair back from the desk and pulled it over to the fireplace.

He then grabbed another chair, seemingly at random, and placed it behind the desk before sitting down again.

Darcy waited patiently as Theodore rubbed his hands on the wood of the desk.

Suddenly his hands stopped moving, and he leaned into the wood, as if trying to channel his strength.

When Theodore finally looked up at him, Darcy could not quite read his expression.

At first, Theodore’s lips pressed together so tightly they were turning white, but then he blew out a breath and spoke. “Thank you for coming, Darcy. I know I have so much to learn. I do not even know what I should be asking.”

“My purpose is to provide support for you. We can talk about Cedric if you want, or we could talk about what it means to run an estate.” Darcy leaned back in his chair, patiently waiting for Theodore as he visibly struggled to process his emotions, let alone put them into words.

“Even after I came home, Cedric never asked for help with anything. I know there was a lot he did, but it all ran so smoothly that I do not know what needs to be seen to. This is not a battle I am adequately prepared for, Darcy.” Speaking so openly seemed to be a struggle for Theodore.

The clenching of his jaw caused his words to come out clipped and sharp, and he maintained a strained, tense expression, even around his eyes.

“You do not have to rush headlong into everything. Cedric had several competent and faithful stewards, and they will continue to run things as needed. I am here and I will not leave you alone in this,” Darcy assured him, but worried Theodore was so lost in his anguish that he didn’t believe him.

Theodore wondered if not sleeping at all was better than the nightmares.

Rolling over, he punched his pillow in frustration.

Sleep was no refuge from the persistent anxiety that plagued him.

He was faced with the daunting task of continuing his brother's work without any knowledge of what it entailed.

He had only grown more and more confused the longer he had tried to decipher all the papers strewn all over his brother's desk.

Darcy had helped, or had tried to, but eventually Theodore had sent him away.

Despite claiming exhaustion, Theodore had gone back to try to sort things out once Darcy was out of sight.

He knew that Darcy offered help, but he had his own house to take care of.

Why had he never been taught how to do anything of use outside of the military?

If there was one thing he had learned from what he had reviewed so far, it was that his brother had been trying to do too much yet never once had asked for help.

Why did Cedric not show him anything? Of course, Theodore had never assumed anything like this would happen, but at least then he would have had some idea of what to do now.

One thing he found perplexing was he had known his brother owned several properties, yet he had not realized Cedric had at least five that he found evidence of.

That was not even considering the one in Wales that his mother received from her jointure.

He knew his brother had jokingly offered him an estate, but he had never taken it seriously.

Theodore had never learned how to take care of a single estate. How did one oversee five or more?

Had Darcy mentioned stewards? It seemed improbable that his brother had visited all his estates and instead spent the majority of his time in London tending to parliamentary matters.

He knew his brother was passionate about many things he put forth in parliament, but Theodore only knew about a fraction of them.

He knew nothing about how his brother went about accomplishing what he set out to do.

Would people expect him to pursue the same course of action?

What if people expected him to take his brother’s seat in parliament?

And so, it continued—more and more questions and the anger that seemed to build with the lack of answers. Sleep would never come. As the hours ticked by, Theodore remained wide awake, the cracks on the ceiling his only company.

Theodore dressed himself with even more attention to detail than usual before sneaking out of the house.

In the weeks since his brother’s death, people had started realizing who he was, and he hated their judging stares when they spotted him.

While he had never been one for popular fashion, he did not want them to judge Cedric for having a brother who was less than he needed to be.

He wanted to move. He needed to move. And despite feeling like punching something, he decided to forgo Gentleman Jack's and instead chose to take a brisk walk. With the sun barely peeking over the horizon, he relished in the sensation of the cool morning air on his skin and headed to the park.

The sky was a hazy lavender blushing into pink.

He knew it was beautiful, but he could not find it within himself to appreciate it as he once might have.

Another night without enough sleep seemed to have drained him even more than normal.

It had been almost a month since his brother had died and he still struggled to sleep at night.

When he noticed he was entirely alone in a secluded part of the park, he quickened his pace to a jog, despite his heavy fatigue.

Pushing his body physically seemed to keep the questions and the anguish at bay.

He was careful to stop before the sun had risen too high in the sky.

Leaning over with his hands on his knees, he caught his breath before taking out his handkerchief to blot at the sweat on his forehead in attempt to make himself presentable.

Though his thigh ached, it was still cooperating, which he attributed to his frequent morning exercise.

Heading back home, he weaved through the crowds and caught snippets of conversations along the way.

The street was alive with activity as vendors and hawkers hustled to set up their shops for the day.

It felt surreal that the world had not changed despite his brother's death.

The reality remained that people still needed to earn a living and support their loved ones.