How to Heal the Marquess by Sally Forbes
Chapter Two
Jonathan Menzies stared in bitter wonder at the early morning streaks of sunlight painted across a pale-blue, cloudless sky. He could hardly believe the breeze from the ocean could be so crisp or the atmosphere so calm and beautiful. It seemed unfair to him that such conditions could exist when his mind and heart more resembled a tumultuous sea on a gloomy winter’s day.
Just weeks before, he had been sailing the world, going where he pleased, simply living for days just like this one. Even his trip to Jamaica, which had been in service of his father, had been more pleasure than business.
At first, he had happily agreed to tend to his father’s business dealings there for him. The older man had written to Jonathan and requested that he make the trip on his behalf, as he was feeling rather under the weather. Now, however, all Jonathan could do was brood as the packet ship Lady Bianca slowly finished docking back in England.
As it had turned out, it ended up being far more than a single trip to Jamaica for his father. The current Duke of Kent had called for a physician due to the poor health, which he had earlier believed to be only temporary.
However, only a fortnight after Jonathan had arrived in Jamaica, he had received a letter from his mother, saying that his father was far more gravely ill than had first been suspected.
The physician was checking on him almost daily, trying to determine once and for all what was ailing the duke. But as yet, there was no clear diagnosis, and the duke was only growing weaker.
As such, the duchess had pleaded with her son to return home as soon as he could conclude the business in Jamaica.
A twinge of guilt blended with the resentment he felt at having to return home early. He enjoyed traveling for business but more so for the sake of traveling itself and the chance of seeing beautiful, faraway places distant from his London home. However, being overseas as much as possible during the last few years had also served another purpose: it had helped him to avoid much of the pressure he found himself almost constantly under at home to find himself a wife.
However, now that his parents, who had loved and cared for him well throughout his entire life, needed him, he knew he should be happy to return home and help them, to set aside his selfish desires. If only his return did not mean he would likely be forced to wed, he might have felt more content to return home.
As he prepared to disembark from the ship, the captain approached him, smiling brightly at Jonathan.
“Was your journey a pleasant one, your lordship?” Captain Starre asked, breaking through his gloomy thoughts.
Jonathan gave the captain a firm handshake, but his smile was sad and regretful.
“The only problem with the journey is that it has ended far too soon,” he said.
The captain frowned, releasing Jonathan’s hand to put his own on the nobleman’s shoulder.
“Is there trouble at home, my lord?” he asked.
Jonathan sighed. Even though he knew Captain Starre well and trusted him a great deal, he did not wish to discuss his fears for the future.
“My father is gravely ill,” he said after a brief hesitation. “We are all concerned for his wellbeing.” His words were true, of course. He cared for his father, and he wanted him to get well. However, God forbid the old man should die, for there was far more at stake for Jonathan than merely losing his father,
The captain’s face fell, and his eyes grew sympathetic.
“I am terribly sorry to hear that, my lord,” he said. “Your father is a good man. I do hope he will recover.”
Jonathan nodded, smiling gratefully at the sea captain.
“As do I,” he said. Indeed, no one hopes for it more than I, he added silently.
Reluctantly, Jonathan bid the sea captain farewell and set foot on the London docks. A thousand more thoughts overwhelmed him as he did so, and he struggled with all his might to keep from turning around, reboarding the ship, and begging Captain Starre to sail him as far from England as possible.
He was ill-prepared to handle all the responsibilities laid before him, but he knew he must learn to handle them, nonetheless.
The docks were nowhere near as crowded as he had expected, so he had no trouble spotting the carriage waiting to take him to Appledore Manor, his family’s seat in Kent. The footman spotted him at once and waved to him, so he was left with no choice but to go straight to the waiting coach.
He forced a cheerful greeting for the driver and the footman as he entered the carriage, nodding in gratitude to the footman as he closed the door behind Jonathan. A moment later, the coach began moving, and Jonathan sighed heavily.
It was not merely stepping in for his father while the reigning duke was ill, which seemed so daunting, or even simply that his mother wanted so desperately for him to marry. His father’s illness reminded Jonathan that he would one day become the Duke of Kent in his father’s stead.
It was his birthright, and it was something for which his father had tried to prepare him throughout his entire life. Yet now, even as he hoped the illness which had stricken his father would gradually pass, he was acutely aware that the day when he inherited the dukedom could be much closer than he had ever anticipated.
He wanted to remain optimistic, but with every turn of the carriage wheels, as the vehicle carried him away from the sea and toward home, he could feel his last chance to sail the world slipping away.
To distract himself, Jonathan pulled his journal from his pocket. He carried the book with him everywhere because he found himself often inspired while at sea.
Not merely for the sake of writing idle notes or for keeping track of business dealings. The pages were more than halfway filled with a novel, a follow-up to his successful, illustrated travel book entitled AVoyage Across the Indies.
As he looked at his notes, however, he was not filled with the usual joy and pleasure. Rather, he felt incredible sadness. Now he would be taking over his father’s business affairs in earnest and would almost certainly be forced by his mother to attend the London Season and find a wife. How would he ever find the time to continue working on the novel?
His family, of course, had no idea he was a published author. That fact must remain forever a secret, as his relatives would see it as a vocation that brought both shame and disgrace to the noble family name of Menzies.
Therefore, he had published under a pseudonym so that his family would not learn of his secret chosen career, at least not until he had become successful enough to be admired rather than shamed for his work.
Now, he wondered if not telling them would end up costing him his writing career. He was, after all, a man, and he could do as he pleased.
His mother could not force him to attend the season nor find a wife. It was not her place to do so. He loved and respected his mother, though, which left him even more conflicted.
“Whatever will I do?” he murmured aloud, despite the coach being empty apart from himself.
Returning the journal to the pocket of his jacket, Jonathan rested his head against the window of the carriage. Once more, he thought about how unfair it was that the world outside the window should be so bright and cheery when, in comparison, his mood was so conflicted and anxious.
He did not want to feel any resentment toward his family, especially not for needing his help at such a critical time. But he could not escape the longing he felt for the freedom of the open sea or his writing. No matter how hard he tried to view the current circumstances, he could find no way to be optimistic rather than gloomy.
Suddenly, an image of Abigail came to Jonathan’s mind. Despite himself, he found himself smiling immediately. His little sister had always been very dear to him, and, to his relief, that bond had not weakened as they had grown. True, their interests had begun to take them down different life paths, as was always the case with young men and young women, but they remained close.
Like most young ladies of high society, Abigail had been raised to understand that her duty was to grow into a refined, sophisticated young woman and attract a suitable husband. And like most of the ton’s young women, she was thrilled about fulfilling her duty.
Jonathan could not understand the appeal of marriage for young ladies, but he was happy that his sister was excited about her future and looked forward to doing what was expected of her.
Briefly, he was envious of his sister. If only he could possess that same sense of joy in fulfilling a life duty, then he might have found contentment with his situation. For the moment, however, the best he could do was to look forward to seeing his sister. He had missed her, and seeing her again would, indeed, be excellent.
He wondered if, in the company of his sister, he might find the contentment he sought once he returned home. If only I could see the time to write, as well.
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