An Earl’s Broken Heart by Ella Edon
Chapter One
They say death comes but once, but for Alexander Steward it seemed as though it came in waves. His father, his mother, his comrades at war, and now his Great Uncle… Alexander glanced over the letter once more that had brought him that most horrible report. The news that his Great Uncle had passed had shocked him and he was still reeling from it.
The last time he had seen the old man was after a short visit from service, before he went back to the battlefield to defend his country. His Great Uncle had been vibrant, full of life, and above all, welcoming. Had he been an actor, he was the sort of man to play a king or a great warrior. He was a strong, timeless figure, both straight-backed and stoic. For his Great Uncle, Alexander had always felt nothing but the utmost pride. How was he to have expected that the last time he saw his Great Uncle would be the very last time forever?
He had received the letter informing him of his Great Uncle’s passing from his friend Michael Follet, who was also their family solicitor. He had readied himself immediately and made for London as fast as he could.
Now, as the carriage rocked back and forth over the cobblestoned streets, he was approaching Michael Follet’s home to hear word on their family affairs.
Alexander hated London. As he glanced out of his carriage window at the lantern-brightened streets, the city seemed to sneer at him. He was what he was. There was no walking away from that. In the time since he had last passed those streets, he had gone to war and fought for his country to great merit. When one watched the life leave a man, one changes forever and the streets seemed not quite so bright as they had once been to him. This was not a city for men like him, for commoners. No man was truly welcomed in London lest he was in possession of a good fortune. And Alexander was certainly not in possession of any fortune, let alone a good one.
The carriage driver drew rein.
“We are here already?” Alexander asked.
“Yes, we are, Sir.”
Alexander drew in breath and alighted from the carriage. Michael Follet’s house was modest, as far as London society was concerned, but Alexander had a tremendous respect for men who earned their money. Michael Follet was not a nobleman by birth, but he had worked hard to raise himself into their stewardship, and was now welcomed and accepted in those circles when it came to the conduct of legal affairs. Under any other circumstances, Alexander would have been glad to see him again, but this was different. This was death. Bereavement. There could be no gladness tonight.
He knocked the door firmly and a light appeared in the ground floor window. Soon enough, Michael appeared in the doorway with a sheepish smile.
“My dearest Alexander, it is a pleasure to see you,” Michael said, extending his hand.
Alexander clasped his hand. “It is a pleasure to see you, too. I wish it had been in happier circumstances.”
“Indeed,” whispered Michael, ushering him in. "I know how much this hurts you, Alex, and I am truly sorry."
Alexander pulled his hand through his hair and said nothing. Michael led him into his study and offered him a seat.
“No, thank you,” Alexander muttered. He couldn’t sit at that moment. His heart was beating too fast, and the room seemed too small around him. It was impossible to believe that all this was true, that his Great Uncle had truly died. When Alexander lost his father, it had been his Great Uncle, Lord John Steward, Earl of Carter, who had taken him in and treated him like a son. Were it not for the kindness and generosity of his Great Uncle he would almost certainly have numbered amongst the homeless and hungry in those miserable years after he became an orphan. That Alexander was this man standing in London today was all because his Great Uncle had chosen to treat him like a son and not a stranger. He would never be able to repay that measure of great kindness.
“How was your time in His Majesty’s Service?” Michael asked.
Alexander knew that Michael meant no harm in it. It was just an attempt at small talk, but Alexander still found it difficult to speak of the war, of all the things he had seen in trying to survive it.
He glanced down at Michael, meeting his eye. “I have fought in two campaigns. In seven years, I saw bloody business of every kind and order. We fought in the sleet and the snow and the rain. We saw men die and sometimes did great violence ourselves, and that’s not near the worst of it. I’ve run away in fear, I’ve run forwards in courage. I did things that I would never have imagined I could do if I hadn’t ever put on an officer’s uniform and marched out from my barracks. I suppose to put it plainly, my dear Michael, my time in His Majesty’s Service was eventful.”
Michael stared up at him, wide-eyed. “Evidently,” he said at last. “I suppose we should get on to the matter at hand.”
Alexander nodded. “I suppose so.”
Michael shuffled some papers on his deck and glanced up at Alexander. "You really should sit. There is quite a lot that we ought to discuss, " said Michael, staring at Alex with what seemed like pity. "Please."
Alex sighed and did as was requested, sinking into a velvet cushioned chaise lounge.
Michael gave a grateful nod. "As you know, your Great Uncle only left behind his daughter and granddaughters.”
Alexander nodded. “Emily and her dear children. Are they well?”
Michael smiled and nodded. “They are all very well and are being suitably accounted for.”
His cousin Emily had always been like a kind older sister to him, and she treated him like the brother she never had. She had not been pleased to hear that Alexander had chosen to join the armed forces, and she had not understood then why he had to go. Why he had to leave London.
Alexander wondered why Emily wasn’t here. Surely, she ought to have had some part to play in handling her father’s affairs.
He fixed Michael with a quizzical look, waiting for what he had to say next.
"Well, Alexander, after rigorous searching and confirmation, it has been discovered that you are the late Lord Carter’s closest male relative and as such it is customary that you become the next Earl of Carter."
Alexander recoiled back as though Michael’s words had been a punch. Stunned would have been quite the understatement for what he felt when that news reached his ears. He had never even considered who might succeed his Great Uncle as the Earl of Carter, he was sure there were others in line before him. He had always despised the nobility and everything that had to do with it, his Great Uncle had been the only exception in this. Alexander had felt keenly the greatest indignity of his life when the woman he loved, on account of her being from a noble family, had rejected his offer of marriage, and married a nobleman instead. It was a rejection that had sent his life into an utter spiral.
"Michael, this is absurd. I know nothing about the Earldom. Choosing me as a replacement for my Great Uncle would only bring the estate down. I have no education on the affairs of nobility. All I know is how to defend England. I know nothing about keeping records and a manor and all that comes with such high position."
Michael sighed, leaned back on his chair, and rubbed his temple. Alexander stared at him intently, hoping that what he had to say next would be in support of what he had just said.
"Alex, I understand your sentiment, believe me. However, in this matter my hands are inextricably tied. You are the only living male relative and so the only one to succeed your Great Uncle and it should bear mentioning that I... I am certain of your capabilities as both a man and a leader. Regardless, there's no possible way you could run down the Earldom”
Alex straightened and quirked an eyebrow. "What do you mean?”
Michael cleared his throat but said nothing.
Alexander leaned forward. “What situation is the Estate in? "
Michael shrugged, parted his lips, but no words came out.
Alex tilted his head. "Speak to me, Michael."
Michael let out a heavy breath. "Well," he began, leaning forward absentmindedly so that his elbows settled on the mahogany table. "Your Great Uncle had quite the gambling habit."
"I never knew of it!"
"As you know, after you last saw him, his wife passed. He was all alone, and it did not take long before his grief started to settle in him. He lost his way somehow. Before I knew anything about it, he had turned to gambling." Michael stared into Alexander's eyes as he delivered the last blow. "The Earl has left the Estate nearly bankrupt, Alex. With the standing debts he left behind, it is only a matter of time before the Estate falls. I had suggested that a marriage to a wealthy noblewoman would save the Estate, and, if she was young, he might have got an heir, but your Great Uncle refused to re-marry. He said it would be a dishonor to his late wife. There was really no other solution, and this broke his heart. He never forgave himself leading up until the moment of his death."
That information was a lot for Alexander to take in. He had seen the love that his Great Uncle bore for his wife. An enchanted love that filled their home with warmth and laughter that never went away. It must have crushed his Great Uncle to lose her. A wave of guilt settled on Alexander.
“I should have been there for him,” he whispered.
Michael placed a hand on his shoulder. “You cannot blame yourself. You weren’t to know what he was going through. You had your own life to live.”
Alexander shook his hand away and buried his face in his hands. He rose to his feet, feeling quite overwhelmed by the news. What Michael was trying to say was that his Great Uncle had died feeling ashamed of what he had done. He had been heavy hearted in his last days. The revelation did not sit well with Alexander. He could never forget the flourishing days of the Estate and how his Great Uncle had swelled with pride. It pained him to realize that his Great Uncle had not died a happy man, having left his legacy in shreds before his departure from this world.
"He would have wanted his Estate saved." Alexander whispered.
Michael nodded. "Indeed."