Free The Affectionate Adversary by Catherine Palmer Page B

the income he derived from those poor tenants who labored on land he never even bothered to visit! Did he care about his sheep? his mill? the small village that—?”
    “Father, I know how you suffered under that man’s excesses.” Charles had heard such diatribes against the duke of Marston all his life. His father’s feelings were justified, of course, yet now was hardly the time to rant. “If you do not wish me to seek a position as a steward, I shall honor your request. But why not the bank? It is a respectable profession that will provide a satisfactory income. With the gold lost and only a small sum left in your account, you will need my financial support in the years to come, and I fully intend to give it. Think what Mother would say to this.”
    “Your mother perished for lack of good medical care! And why? Because I was nothing better than a steward to a pompous, self-possessed cretin! I had insufficient funds to see that my wife received the best treatment during her illness. Do you suppose I wish for you to bear such a shameful burden? Unthinkable! No, Charles, I shall not hear of you taking a position at a bank or as a steward. Not until we have exhausted every other avenue.” He snatched up the invitation. “The duke of Marston’s son does you a great honor in asking you to attend his reception, for this is the high event of the social season. With his elder brother missing and presumed dead in America, Sir Alexander is likely to inherit his father’s title and estates. You ought to oblige him. No doubt he has heard of your misadventure at sea and longs to amuse himself and his friends with your tale of woe.”
    “Father, I cannot tolerate such censure of Sir Alexander. He and I played together as boys, and I am certain our friendship stands as it was.”
    “Then go to the soiree and make some good use of the man! He will have cronies who may be interested in our enterprise. They all have money enough to waste on balls and such frippery! Perhaps you can convince one of them to finance us.”
    “Father, I deplore dancing, and I am no more fond of mingling with the aristocracy than you are. Do see reason here. If you object to my taking some common employment, then I must join a regiment. As an officer, I shall earn the respect of my peers and the income to satisfy our requirements.”
    “The army? Would I have you marching off to war against the French or those rebellious Americans? Certainly not! As well you might pursue the pirates in an effort to reclaim our gold! You returned to me barely alive, crippled, and in pain. Should I now wave you off to some foreign battlefield and have you killed?”
    “If you are so determined to make a fortune, then perhaps I ought to go after the pirates,” Charles retorted. “I could sail to the Malabar Coast and raid every pirate stronghold in search of your chest of gold. Would you be happy then, Father? Is that the only thing that could satisfy you?”
    “Charles!”
    “Is this tea enterprise more important than health and security, Father? Is it so essential that we rise above our humble roots? Perhaps we are both wrong in our thinking. I have heard it said that God would wish us to rid ourselves of all earthly treasures and practice charity.”
    “Who told you such nonsense? Was it that woman on the ship? That … that silly creature—”
    “Mrs. Carlyle, yes. And I cannot believe my mother would have disagreed. What is truly important in this life, Father? Should we become as rich as those repugnant aristocrats you so abhor? To what end? That we might host our own balls and purchase gowns and slippers enough to clothe a harem?”
    “Upon my word, you are altered! Altered, indeed! Come here, my dear boy.” James Locke stretched out his arms and took his son into a rough embrace. “Oh, Charles, I do not mean to cause you such distress. You have suffered greatly, and I am sensible of your unhappy condition.”
    Drawing away, Charles hobbled to the