“Sandy can have his meeting,” Jacob said, “and if you are the topic, I’ll apprise you immediately. We’ll deal with any issue he raises.”
Kit nearly offered a snide retort, but Sandy and the butler were approaching, so he couldn’t. He downed his drink and headed out, exiting as Sandy arrived. They bristled, their mutual dislike clear. Sandy hesitated and didn’t enter. With Kit being present, he was obviously having second thoughts about proceeding.
“I’m leaving,” Kit told him, “but when you and the Captain are finished, you and I should have a long talk. Find me when you’re through.”
“It will have to be tomorrow morning,” Sandy responded. “I’m having supper with my boys in a bit. I have to get home to them.”
Kit flashed a glower at Jacob that seemed to say, See how he sasses me?
He whipped away and kept on, and Sandy hovered in the doorway. Even though Jacob waved him in, he said, “This probably isn’t a good time. Not after Kit was just with you.”
“Were you intending to confer about him?”
“No.”
“Then we shouldn’t be prevented from continuing.”
Still, Sandy vacillated, and Jacob irritably said, “Come in, Sandy. Your indecision is infuriating. Stop it.”
Sandy gnawed on his cheek and might have left, but he couldn’t stomp away with any grace. He marched in, and Jacob was thinking that he’d hate to be Kit and have to constantly bump up against Sandy.
Sandy was competent, steady, and highly respected. Kit was rude, lazy, and disrespected. The two men were like oil and water, and their visible aversion was about to explode—as with so many other problems at the estate.
Suddenly, he was wondering if he shouldn’t muster out of the navy. Should he retire? His friend, Luke Watson, had done it recently. How was Luke faring as a veteran rather than a sailor?
Or he could ride to London and question his half-brother, Caleb, who’d landed on his feet in a very lucrative way. Did he ever miss the navy? Did he ever wish he hadn’t quit?
Sandy faced Jacob across the desk, and they suffered an awkward moment where Jacob couldn’t figure out how to treat him. He shook himself out of his stupor and said, “I’m having a whiskey. Would you like one?”
“No, thank you. I have an important subject to address, and I shouldn’t be imbibing of liquor when I do.”
“Will you sit?” Jacob gestured to the chair Kit had vacated.
Sandy eased onto it, but he appeared so serious that Jacob’s pulse raced with apprehension. Was he about to resign? If he did, it would simply be one more issue that had reached a boiling point.
“What is it you need?” Jacob asked, anxious to tamp down the tension. “You look so solemn. I hope it’s nothing awful.”
“It’s not awful. I’m positive you’re not expecting it though, and I’m concerned over how you’ll view my request.”
“Try me. Let’s see what sort of reaction you get.”
“That is what’s worrying me. You’re not in the best mood.”
“I will admit I’ve been better.”
“It might be wise for me to return later.”
“The longer you delay, the more alarmed I become.”
“It’s not alarming. I don’t deem it to be anyway. I’m here about Margaret.”
Jacob scowled. “What about her? She’s been in a low condition, but I’m not sure you and I should discuss it.”
“It’s not that. You were never around much as a boy, so I’m not certain how much you recollect of what occurred.”
“It depends on the circumstance. With some incidents, I recall every detail. With others? Not so much.”
“Were you aware that Margaret and I were good friends.”
Jacob pondered, then said, “I guess I remember that.”
“Did you ever notice we were more than friends?”
Jacob froze. “What do you mean?”
“When we were adolescents, we were very much in love.”
Jacob chuckled—when he shouldn’t have. “You were not.”
“We were, and my relationship with her was the main reason your mother betrothed her to Mr. Howell. Mrs. Ralston was determined to yank her away so we couldn’t behave foolishly.”
“Are you claiming you’d have run away together?”
“Yes. We had it all planned out, but in the end, Margaret couldn’t proceed. After how your sister, Pamela, had eloped, she decided she couldn’t shame your mother. So . . . she married Mr. Howell.”
“Why are you telling me this? After so many years have passed, perhaps it should simply fade away.”
“Well, that’s a bit tricky because I’ve never stopped loving your sister.”
Jacob winced. “Don’t confess to that.”
“I have to. You should understand the strong feelings I’ve always possessed for her. When she wed Mr. Howell, I truly thought I’d die from heartbreak. My parents intervened and forced me to move on and heal. I wed a local girl, and I have my two sons.”
“What are you saying, Sandy? Would you spit it out?”
“Margaret is a widow, and she did her duty to your family, and she paid dearly for it. I did my duty to mine as well, and my wife is deceased. I’m widowed too.”
Finally, Jacob grasped where this was leading. “Could you halt right there? I’m terribly afraid of where you’re going, and we shouldn’t arrive there.”
“I have to. Margaret and I are more devoted than we ever were when we were younger.”
“You and Margaret have been pursuing an amour? Are you mad?”
“I don’t like that we’ve been hiding it from you, and it should be out in the open. Margaret and I would like to marry, and I’m asking for your blessing.”
“Oh, Sandy . . .”
Jacob felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. He’d been expecting Sandy to talk about the farm or the horses, about Kit or the estate’s many problems. He hadn’t expected declarations of love for his sister.
How was Jacob to respond? Sandy was staring in that calm, steady way he had, daring Jacob to be condescending, and it was exasperating to realize that Sandy knew him so well. There were so many snobbish, patronizing comments rolling around in Jacob’s throat that he was practically choking on
