‘What’s your favourite gambling hell these days, Father?’
His father’s sallow skin flushed. ‘What?’
‘Where are you headed now?’
‘Oh, just to my club. Got a few mates who enjoy faro.’
‘And then where? Which gaming hell?’
‘I don’t go to them anymore,’ he said. ‘Too many card sharks. Skin a man alive if they could.’
Cedric’s eyes widened. Had his father finally done it? Had he given up gambling? ‘You don’t play anymore?’
‘Not in that pit of vipers. No, no, there’s a few friends of mine. We get together of an evening and talk.’
Of course they did. ‘Cards or dice?’
‘Well, son, you know a gentleman plays whatever comes his way. A little bit of everything, just to keep the mind sharp.’
His mind might be sharp, but his body and clothing weren’t. ‘How far in the duns are you?’
‘Not at all! Not at all! Son, I promised you, didn’t I? Before you left. I said I’d change and I have.’
Cedric wished he could believe it. ‘Then why do you need the profit from the ship?’
‘For the estate, boy. Didn’t you hear me?’
‘What about your bills? Your tab at the club and the coin to the tailor?’
His father laughed a little too loud as he answered. ‘Well, I’ll admit to being a bit behind at the club. But there’ll be plenty from your boat. Declan will see to—’
‘Declan won’t be paying you anything, Father. I told you. This venture is mine. I will dispense the profit to those who pledged a stake. Which you did not.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. I see how frail you are. Nearly died. Don’t tell me you’ve been gone for nearly two years and have nothing to show for it. You’re not that stupid.’
Well, he’d thought he was exactly that stupid. How odd to realise he wasn’t. Either way, his father had nothing to do with it. ‘Declan won’t give you a penny, Father.’
‘Don’t be stupid!’ His father invested such disgust in that last word. As if that was a bigger crime than lying, stealing or gambling away their entire family’s wealth.
‘Remember what you promised me before I left? Remember how you said you’d stop gambling, stop bleeding the estate dry. You promised me you’d do it.’
His father lifted his chin. ‘By what right do you question me? I’m the Earl of Hillburn and your father!’
Cedric stared at his father, seeing the man more clearly than before. Not the wastrel or the man with pride in a title that he had done nothing to maintain. He’d seen all that before. But what he saw now was a soul who was untethered to anything but gambling. There was no person he loved, no work to keep him focused.
Cedric hadn’t understood that before. He hadn’t known then how work built up a man and how love could keep him going when all else failed. His father had none of that, and that was a pitiful life.
Good God, the man probably didn’t know he had a grandson. That’s how disconnected he was from anyone who might care for him.
‘How have you changed, Father?’ he asked softly. ‘What is different in you from two years ago? Five years? Ten?’ Just how long had the man been lost?
‘What the devil are you talking about?’
‘Growth. Maturity.’ He smiled to himself. ‘Love, Father. Look at what a life devoid of love has brought you.’
‘You’re ill, son. Best lie back down and leave it all to me.’
Never.