Page 64 of A Gentleman's Reckoning
“I do not know that I will be spending much time in London, but if I do come, let us keep in touch.” Barnsby reached out to shake John’s hand.
“It would be my honor,” he replied, clasping his hand in return. He left the house feeling considerably lighter than when he arrived.
It was only natural that John first go to his brother’s house, because it was too late in the day to visit the mill, and his brother was not far. A short while later, he drove up to the house, wondering what his brother’s reaction would be. He knocked on the door, and Gregory answered it.
“John!”
Greg immediately threw his arms around him, and John felt an unmanly prick of tears in his eyes at the brotherly welcome. It was precisely what he needed. If his brother saw the tears, he was too kind to mention it, but he smiled and clapped him on the back.
“Anne,” he called out. “Have the servants prepare a fine feast. The prodigal son has come home.” He laughed at his own joke.
Greg’s words, lightly spoken, caused John to be seized again with guilt. “Actually, you are not far from the truth. Perhaps we might have a private conversation after dinner?”
His brother sobered as he studied him, then he nodded. “Yes, we will. But first, let us eat.”
Anne came bustling into the room at that moment andthrew her arms around John without ceremony. He had always liked her, although they had not had many chances to know each other.
“Welcome.” Her eyes gleamed with kindness. “I will have the best bedchamber prepared for you.”
The dinner was a comfortable one, and John’s spirits lifted in a way they had not in a long time, surrounded by familial affection. Gregory and Anne spoke to each other in an easy, loving manner, and they made him feel included in the little family unit they had built together. He was fortunate to be surrounded by such warmth—something he knew Lady Geny did not have. This reminder saddened him almost as much as losing her, for it was too late to invite her into his own family circle.
At the end of the meal, Anne smiled at them. “Well, gentlemen, I will leave you to your port.”
Gregory glanced at him and said, “What do you say we take tea in the library instead?”
“Much better,” John agreed.
They settled in as Anne bustled about to bring the tea herself, then left them alone. The minutes of silence that followed seemed awkward. It was difficult to begin, but John knew it was necessary to have everything out.
“I came to tell you of all the ways I am not worthy to be your brother.” He had meant it as something of a joke, but those tears rose again.
“A dramatic opening,” his brother replied. “Proceed.” His eyes held a glint of his usual humor, but his compassion was unmistakable. He was well-suited for his role as rector.
John proceeded to tell Greg everything—his manner of living with women and drink, the gambling and how he had foolishly spent everything of his mother’s inheritance, his guilt over not visiting his stepfather when he was still alive—how unworthy he was to be the one inheriting the Westerly estate. He then went on to recount all that had happened with LordGoodwin and how it led to his downfall in society, and then to his eventual position in the asylum with a plan to carry out his revenge.
Greg had listened quietly throughout, but at this he held up a hand. “Revenge is generally a terrible method for anyone attempting to secure his own happiness.”
“I believe you are correct, for my plans for a full reckoning came back to bite me.”
He explained how he had fallen in love with Lady Geny and how he had destroyed her confidence in him by lying about who he was and his purpose at the asylum. And he sealed his infamy by kissing her when he was not in a position to offer for her. He finished his confession with the argument they had had right before she ordered him to leave the orphanage. When he finished speaking, silence fell once again.
“Do you think you still have a chance with Lady Geny?” his brother asked.
John shook his head. The angry, resolute expression on her face was etched on his mind. He stood no chance of winning her back.
“I am sorry,” Greg said. He poured another cup of tea for them both, and they drank it.
“I did come north with another purpose, although it was secondary to visiting you,” John said.
“Flatterer.”
John returned a weak smile. “I plan to go to Ancoats since it is nearby. I have the directions of the mill the earl is supposedly building with investors’ money, even redirecting some of it away from the asylum. However, I received a correspondence that states the contrary—that the money has all but stopped coming in. I want to see it for myself.”
“More thoughts of revenge?” Greg asked gently.
At this, John paused to consider his motives first before shaking his head.
“No. I just want to know. I will leave thoughts of revenge to someone else who has actually invested in the earl’s project. I do not want Lord Goodwin to fall at my hands. I won’t cause Geny that pain.”
