Jacob toasted him with his glass, and Caleb accepted it as an olive branch of sorts.
“It’s nice to have some money for a change,” Caleb said. “I can’t deny it.” More caustically, he added, “In the future, I won’t ever have to beg anyone for help.”
Jacob winced. “In light of our history, I suppose I deserved that.”
“Your mother deserved it anyway. Not you. I just mean that I can take care of Blake and Sybil. It’s always been my biggest fear: that disaster would arise and I wouldn’t be able to protect them.”
“What was your issue with the navy? Why did you resign? There was a rumor you were swept up in an embezzlement scheme, but I didn’t believe it.”
Caleb yearned to confide Blake’s mischief, how Blake had always been a great trial, how he’d been a burden to Caleb from the moment they’d been orphaned. They’d staggered to England only to discover there was no family waiting to greet them, no inheritance to smooth their path, and Blake had been wild and negligent ever since.
Caleb was very loyal though, and Blake was still in the navy. Caleb had quit so his brother could stay in the navy. Blake needed the structure it provided. Jacob was in the navy too, and his connections ran high and deep. Any admission about Blake’s debacle would drift into the wrong ears, and Blake would be in trouble again.
Caleb would never risk it. Instead, he said, “Do you have many memories of our father?”
“Not many, no. He was always at sea, and he and my mother didn’t get along. When he was in England, he rarely spent time with us. He and Mother quarreled too viciously. How about your mother? Did he get along with her? Did they spend much time together?”
“He was rarely home with us either, but when he was there, he and my mother seemed happy. I was a boy though, so I might have misread their relationship.”
“He must have been madly in love with her. Why else would he have married her?”
Caleb wouldn’t wander down that road. He wasn’t about to debate the topic of which wife their father had liked more. There was no way to win that comparison.
“You’re a tad nostalgic tonight,” Caleb said.
Jacob shrugged. “Perhaps I am.”
“I can’t discuss these subjects with you.”
“I think we should though. Don’t you? The involved parties are deceased—”
“Your mother passed away?”
“Yes.”
“I wasn’t informed. My condolences.”
“It’s just me and my sisters now. That’s it—unless I start to consider you and Blake to be part of the family.”
Caleb chuckled. “If Blake and I are suddenly family, your mother will be spinning in her grave.”
“It’s not as if I’ll mention it to her in my prayers. She doesn’t have to be apprised of every little detail.”
“I can’t imagine us being friends,” Caleb said. “Isn’t there too much water under the bridge?”
“The water was between our mothers, wasn’t it?”
“I guess it was,” Caleb grudgingly agreed.
“There’s no reason you and I should fight, and I’ve always been fascinated by you and Blake. I’d hoped to have some brothers, but I wound up with a pair of bossy, annoying sisters.”
“Trust me. Blake and I aren’t fascinating.”
“I beg to differ. Look at what you’ve made of yourself.” Jacob gestured around the room, indicating Caleb’s expensive building and thriving business. “In this accursed country where lineage is the sole thing that matters, you’ve shocked everyone. Have you listened to any of the gossip as to how you’ve grown so wealthy? Do your dealers cheat? Do you use black magic? Were spells cast by a sorcerer? No one can fathom you being successful due to intellect and hard work.”
“People are idiots.”
“I’ve always thought so.”
They grinned identical Ralston grins, and Jacob leaned across the desk so they could clink their glasses. He sat back, and Caleb refilled their liquor. They sipped companionably, then Jacob said, “Have you heard about that actress, Libby Carstairs? She’s one of the Mystery Girls of the Caribbean. She’s performing here in town.”
“I’ve heard of her, but I haven’t seen her on the stage. I can’t bear to.”
“I’ve been reticent as well, but apparently, she talks about Father constantly during her shows. I’m curious as to what she might tell me in private.”
“I stumbled on a Mystery Girl recently. Not Miss Carstairs, but Caroline Grey? Remember her?”
“Vaguely. Miss Carstairs garnered all the attention, but then, she sought it out.”
“Miss Grey told me she has very fond recollections of him. Over the years, he’s reached near-mythical proportions.”
“He saved their lives, so I can understand why she’d worship him. He received such praise for rescuing them. Isn’t it odd how a man can have such diverse sides to his personality? Father was a great hero, but also quite a dastardly fiend. Have you ever pondered that about him?”
“I ponder it relentlessly. When he was married to our mothers, would he have tossed and turned at night, wondering if his bigamy was about to be exposed? He must have been terrified every minute.”
“Or the bloody oaf had nerves of steel.”
They smirked in unison, then Jacob downed his drink and put the glass on the desk. “I shouldn’t overstay my welcome.”
“You haven’t—yet.”
“If I keep this visit short and sweet, can I stop by in the future?”
Caleb found himself thinking he might enjoy subsequent encounters. “You can stop by as often as you like.”
“I’ll be in England for the next three months. I’m having a house party in September before I ship out, and I’d like you to come. Would you consider it? You can bring Sybil too. And Blake—if he’s not at sea by then.”
“It might be a step farther than I can go at the moment.”
The last time Caleb had been at the Ralston estate, he’d been ten. He’d staggered in with Sybil and Blake, after their lengthy voyage from Jamaica. They’d been introduced to Jacob’s mother, then promptly escorted off the property. The gate had been barred behind them, and several footmen had been posted as guards
