Page 37 of Deceiving an Earl
“Your mother tells me that you feel that you are adequately schooled enough to run the earldom. I want to see if this is true.”
Oliver received great satisfaction in seeing the young lad squirm in his seat.
“Is this some sort of test?” His tone was sullen.
“Not at all.”
“And why are you the one to determine if I’m fit to run the earldom?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, my own earldom has been very successful, so I am qualified. Your mother has asked me to help, and the headmaster won’t take you back unless I can vouch for you.”
Philip was silent for so long that Oliver thought he might have fallen back asleep until he murmured. “I don’t need to return to Eton.”
“Then today will decide that,” Oliver said.
They fell silent, and Oliver let the boy ruminate on their intended day while Oliver thought more about Ellen and the surgeon. He didn’t like that relationship but thought it had more to do with the past feelings he had for Ellen. He’d thought he was over her, but maybe he wasn’t, and it was unfair to be angry at Ellen for moving on and finding someone. After all, she had to be lonely without a man in her life, and it was clear that she was having trouble with her son. So why not ask Needham for help? Why had she asked him?
He’d been going round and round with this question all night and was nowhere close to an answer, nor would he be, because he had no intention of ever asking her. That would force him to reveal that he felt more for her than he should, and that would be awkward, because obviously she did not have feelings for him.
Oliver glanced over to find the boy nodding off, keeling slightly to the left. Oliver nudged him with his foot, and Philip came awake with a grunt.
“Damn, man,” he said, with a hint of a whine in his voice. “It’s not like we’re doing anything until we get there.”
“What time did you get home last night?”
He snorted. “The footman Mother sent after me found me around seven this morning.”
He seemed proud of this.
“What does a young boy do until that early in the morning?”
He suddenly seemed reluctant to talk and shrugged thin shoulders. “This and that.”
“What is this and what is that?”
He turned to Oliver, revealing his shiner. “You should know. You have a reputation as a man-about-town.”
Oliver wanted nothing more than to give the runt a shiner on the other eye, but he kept his hands on the ribbons and guided the horses down the path without responding.
Finally Philip said, “A little gambling. Dice and such. Drinking with friends.”
“And you think this acceptable behavior for a boy your age?”
He bristled at being called a boy. “It’s acceptable behavior for an earl. You should know.”
Oliver gritted his teeth. This lad needed a good beating and to be put in his place. The bad thing was that Oliver couldn’t dispute him because itwaswhat he did.
“I am older,” he said. “And my estate is in hand.”
He waited a few heartbeats for those words to sink in. Philip’s brows came together.
“What does that mean?” the boy finally asked.
“It means: Do you know the state of your finances? Are you aware of money being spent? Money coming in? Can you afford the lifestyle you are living? Can you afford to keep your mother in the lifestyle she is accustomed to?”
“Of course I am, and yes I can. We’re Fieldhursts.”
“And what does that mean? You’re Fieldhursts. Does that mean you cannot run out of money? That you can live this lifestyle forever and your estate will go on as it has for the past generations?”
