Page 86 of The Pearl (The Godwicks 3)

And with that thought, he knew what he could do to help Charlie.

He returned to the sitting room and gave Charlie the ice. The swelling wasn’t bad, but the bruise would be nasty.

“I need to tell you something very important,” Arthur said, standing in front of Charlie. “So pay attention.”

Charlie met his eyes.

“I’m going to marry Regan Ferry,” Arthur said.

Charlie laughed. When Arthur didn’t smile, he stopped laughing. “You’re joking.”

“No.”

“She’s richer than we are. What’s she want with you?”

“You’ll have to ask her that. But it doesn’t matter. I’m marrying her as soon as I can.”

“This is fast, Art. Like…you’ve known her a month.”

“Our own mother and father were married one day after meeting. One. Twenty-five years later, and they still can’t keep their hands off each other.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Sorry. Anyway, for reasons you don’t need to know or understand, we won’t be having children,” Arthur said. “Therefore, I’ll be naming you my heir. The Godwick line will continue through you and your children whether I die tomorrow or sixty years from now.”

The silence in the room was so deep and long Arthur could hear Christmas music being played by the Hyde Park buskers.

“God, you’re serious,” Charlie said. He sat up straight, the first time Arthur had seen him sitting in anything other than an angry slouch in two years.

“I couldn’t be more serious.”

“What if, you know, you two change your mind?”

“We won’t. And as my heir you can’t go on like this. You’ll either be the seventeenth Earl of Godwick or the father of the seventeenth Earl of Godwick. Your gap year is officially over, starting today. I don’t care where you go to university but you’re going. If not university, then Sandhurst. I’ll let you decide, but you are not going to spend another day wasting your life when you’re the heir to a massive estate and a title that will need protecting and managing. The drinking has to stop. Spending money that’s not yours has to stop. And your friends are not friends, they’re hangers-on who will drop you the second they realize they can’t squeeze another penny out of you. Do you understand me?”

Shockingly, Charlie nodded. He even looked almost contrite and even…possibly…maybe…a little bit proud.

“Have you told Dad any of this?” Charlie said.

“No, but I will at Christmas.”

“But what if…” Charlie sat up even straighter. “What if you two don’t end up getting married after all?”

“Then we’re still in the same boat. Because it’s her or no one, and I’ll still need an heir.” Arthur smiled at him. “Someone’s got to be Lord Dogshit the Seventeenth.”

“Right,” Charlie said. “I’ll talk to Dad about what he thinks I should do—university or Sandhurst. Although I’d thought about maybe…LSE?”

“LSE”was the London School of Economics. This was the first Arthur had heard of his brother having any interest in business or the economy. What else did he not know about Charlie?

“LSEwould be brilliant,” Arthur said. “The family’s basically run as a business, after all. While I’m away with my unit, I’ll want you at the board meetings of the Godwick trust, too. One of us needs to be there, taking notes and learning the ins and outs. Will you do that?”

“Of course,” he said. “Yes, absolutely.” There was life in Charlie’s eyes again, a determination to live up to the enormous responsibility he’d been given.

Arthur felt a lump in his throat. He wanted Regan with him more than ever, so he could tell her about Charlie, that he was already a changed man, growing up before his very eyes.

“Good,” Arthur said. “Now, do you want to help me with the tree?”

“I thought I might take old Thirteen’s portrait back to the house before anyone notices it’s gone.”

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