A Brother's Duty
Page 1
A Brother’s Duty
The Repington Chronicles
Kelly Anne Bruce
Contents
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Preview of The Wayward Heir
About Kelly Anne Bruce
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Also By Kelly Anne Bruce
Sweet River Publishing
Copyright
Copyright 2017, Kelly Anne Bruce
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form, electronic or mechanical, without written approval by the author, except for short excerpts used in a book review.
All characters, places, events, businesses, or references to historical facts are fictitious and products of the author’s imagination. Any references to actual people, places, or events are purely incidental.
http://www.KellyAnneBruce.com
Chapter One
James Repington pushed his chair back from the desk with a sigh.
“Where are you off to?”
He looked up to see Matthew leaning lazily at the library door. Matthew was one of his brothers, he had four of them.
“I was going to go round and check on the tenants,” James replied as he stood up and pulled on his coat.
“You seem quite unhappy about the prospect,” Matthew commented folding his arms over his chest.
James shrugged, as the second son it was not specifically his responsibility to check on the tenants. However, it had fallen to him as his elder brother, Philip was too busy spending the Season in London. Yes, gambling and going to parties with a number of other members of London's social elite seemed to be more important than running the estate. Kicking up larks and spending most of their days half sprung was what the Season was all about for much of the crowd that Philip chose to run with.
Matthew leaned against the doorway and shrugged. “Father usually visits the tenants, does he not?”
“Father is not back from London yet. He has been rather busy tending to Parliament business and it seems that has taken a bit longer than he had anticipated.” James moved toward the door pausing to add, “I do not want the tenants to suffer because no one else is here to help them.”
“Surely, they could wait a few more days,” Matthew suggested.
“If everything is fine, yes. If there have been no problems since last month I would think so. I will not know unless I go check.”
Matthew shook his head with a harsh laugh. “And this responsibility falls to you?”
“It is simply something that needs to be done. Since no one else is here to do it, then yes, I suppose it does fall to me.” James pushed past him into the hall.
It truly was not his responsibility but with the absence of his father the Duke of Castborough and his older brother someone had to do something. As a member of the Repington family, he could see that the tenants were an important part of their entailed land and James would always step up and do what was needed for the betterment and success of the family.
James continued down the hall with Matthew close behind him. He got as far as the bottom of the stairs before Thomas rushed past them to open the front door.
“Your grace, so good to see you. I hope your journey from London was pleasant,” Thomas said as he stepped out the door.
A moment later their father appeared in the doorway looking tired, but still his tall and formidable self. “The journey from London was bloody awful. It began to rain shortly after we left and only stopped in the last few minutes.”
“Father, I thought you had been delayed by Parliament business,” James said, stepping aside as his father turned down the hall toward the library.
“There were some delays but we finally got Wellington to be quiet long enough to take a vote.” His father paused at the library door. “Where is your brother?”
“Which one? There are several of us.” Matthew quipped from behind James.
“Philip. Where is he?”
James looked back at Matthew. “Philip?”
“Yes. I saw him at the house in London and told him he needed to return to Castborough immediately.” Their father sat down in the chair that James had just vacated. “When did he arrive?”
“He has not arrived, Father. And we have received no word from London that he was on his way home,” James said.
“What?” Father roared as he pushed back to his feet. “I told him in no uncertain terms that he was to return here.”
“His failure to comply cannot come as much of a surprise to you,” James remarked. “This is exactly how he operates.”
His brother's irresponsible behaviour had long caused irritation for James. It had started to seem like a cruel joke that his lazy brother was the first son, the heir to the family title. Philip had spent much of his time in London gambling and drinking, leaving James to help their father balance his work with Parliament and to deal with business at their estate in Castborough. James usually handled most of Philips’s responsibilities.
“No, I suppose not.” Father gave James a steely-eyed look before sitting down again. “Since you seem to know your brother so well, you will go to London to retrieve him.”
James scowled. “Why am I to go? If he did not listen to you, he surely will not listen to me.”
Father waved his arm in the air dismissing James' complaints before picking up a quill. “You will leave for London in the morning. When you find your brother let him know that he is expected here within a week's time.”
Matthew snorted from the doorway. “He will agree to it and then stay in London anyway like he has always done. And you are giving him a week? Mighty generous, I say.”
“Yes, a week. And this time he will do as he’s told.” Their father spoke with such certainty in his voice that James turned back to the desk.
“Why do you think this time will be any different?”
Father held up a folded paper. “Because of this. If Philip has not returned by the date on that note his allowance and all other financial support will be cut off.”
Matthew's eyes widened. “Yes, well, that does make a difference. I suppose I would turn up, too, if conditions such as that were set for me.”
James was not sure if that made the situation any better as he would still be traveling to London. Although the thought of Philip losing his allowance did make it a little easier on James. He reached out to take the letter from his father. “I will do my best to ensure my brother's return.”
Father held the note a moment longer locking eyes with James. “See that you do.”
Chapter Two
The carriage slowed and then stopped when James looked out he saw that he had arrived at Repington House, the family residence in London. For the last hour, James had grumbled to himself about having to go after his brother. Father had been in London only the day before having spoken to Philip a week before. Philip had chosen to ignore their father's wishes.
Back in Surrey, the idea of cutting off his allowance had seemed like the best idea but James had begun to think that it would not be enough. In James’ mind, Philip had no intention of ever being responsible not when he continually got away with being a gadabout.
“Sir?” The door to the carriage had opened and the footman was standing there looking at him.
“Yes,” James said quickly moving to climb out of the carriage. “Thank you.”
The front door opened as James approached.
“Good afternoon, sir,” the white-haired servant said as he approached. “Welcome to London.”
“Thank you, Fletcher.” James entered the house stopping at the bottom of the stairs. “Is Philip home?”
“No, sir,” Fletcher answered his eyebrows furrowing. “Master Philip has not been here in several days.”
“No? You have not seen him in days?” James asked. “Are you aware of where he has gone?”
Fletcher looked circumspect. “He did not say when he left but the footman said that he drove him into Mayfair several days ago.”
“Mayfair?” James thought for a moment and then asked, “To Fallbrooke Hall perhaps?”
“Perhaps, sir,” Fletcher said a sly smile crossing his face briefly.
Christopher Boswell was the heir to the Marquess of Trisdale. He was known for living extravagantly, gambling, and drinking until all hours of the night. Lord Fallbrooke was too ripe and ready by half and it did not bode well for James to hear that Philip was staying with the young heir. Philip needed no such partner in crime.
An hour later, James was walking up the front steps of Fallbrooke Hall, one of the largest and most elaborate residences in Mayfair. After knocking on the door, James wondered if he should have sent a messenger over to see if Philip was even in keeping here. For all he knew, his brother and Lord Fallbrooke might have hied off to a house party in Kent.
“Good afternoon,” a dark-haired man answered the door. “May I help you, sir?”
“Yes, thank you. I am James Repington. From what I understand, my brother is a guest of Lord Fallbrooke. Is Lord Fallbrooke in residence today?”
The servant stepped back. “Yes, sir. Follow me.”
He was led to a drawing room and asked to wait. James was not surprised to see that the house was decorated opulently with beautiful fabrics and elegant furniture.
More than ten minutes later James was still waiting and after hearing voices upstairs he moved into the hallway. He was rewarded a moment later to see his older brother as he rushed along the upstairs hallway pulling on his jacket hastily as he moved toward the stairs.
“Going somewhere, are we?” James asked leaning calmly against the ornately carved banister.
Philip froze at the top of the stairs and suddenly looked down with feigned surprise. “James? What are you doing here?”
“I am here to speak with you, of course. I trust you are now available to talk,” James told him trying not to smile. He was quite enjoying seeing his brother looking so uncomfortable.
Philip looked around clearly hoping for some sort of escape, finding none readily available he nodded at James looking rather resigned. “Yes, of course. We can go into the drawing room.”
James waited at the bottom of the stairs as Philip slowly walked down to join him. It had become quite clear that sending a messenger first would have been a horrible idea. Philip would surely have hopped into a carriage and headed to the next party. Philip led his younger brother into the drawing room before collapsing into a large upholstered chair.
There was a long stretch of silence as James waited patiently knowing that it would further upset his brother.
It did not take long before Philip sighed and turned to James. “Why are you here, dear brother?”
“Do I need a reason to visit London and my elder brother?” James asked with a raised eyebrow.
Philip snorted. “Most definitely. You have not come to London for pleasure all Season. So, do tell. Why are you here?”
James shifted in his seat before saying, “To bring you back to Surrey, of course.”
“No, that will not be possible.” Philip stood up as he pulled down the sleeves on his high quality jacket. “I am quite happy to spend the rest of the Season here in London.”
“Of course, you are.” James stood up blocking Philip's path to the door.
“Well, thank you for paying me a visit while you are in London... It was a pleasure to see you, indeed—”
“You should know that Father sent me.” James' words hung in the air between them.
Philip gave him a flat smile. “Give him my best.”
Trying not to show his annoyance with his lazy brother, James simply said, “Father does not want your best regards. He is awaiting your arrival in Surrey. Immediately.”
“Yes,” Philip said with a laugh. “I am sure he is.”
“What are your plans?”
“My plans? The theater and then drinks and cards at White's.” Philip paused looking over at James. “You should come out with us. Perhaps a night out would be good for you.”
“Oh, I do not think so.”
“Or you could come with us to the house party at the Highsmith’s.”
“I appreciate the offer,” James said straightening his coat. “I am afraid that we will need to get back to Surrey before that.”
Philip let out a bark of laughter. “You really think I am going to go back to Surrey with you?”
“The decision is quite up to you, but if I were you I would do as Father asks,” James advised.
“Why?” Philip asked his voice mocking. “Father has you to do his bidding. He does not need me there as well.”
“If that is how you feel then I will return to Surrey by myself,” James turned toward the door.
“Yes, you do that,” Philip told him, the smugness evident in his voice.
James suddenly remembered the paper from their father. “I am quite sure that Father will be disappointed, but I imagine it will be easier to take when he speaks to his solicitor. His accounts will be much fuller going forward.”
“His accounts? What are you talking about?” Philip asked him with a frown.
“Oh? Did I not mention that part?” James took some time to look like he was thinking about it. “No, it seems I did not.”
Philip looked as though he was beginning to understand that something else was going on.
James handed Philip the paper. “According to Father, if you fail to return with me to Surrey your monthly allowance will be stopped.”
“What?” Philip nearly shouted. “Please tell me this is some sort of trick.”
“I am afraid it is no trick.” James nodded at the still folded paper in his brother's hand. “It's all right there. Father was quite clear about his intentions.”
James walked out into the hall. “As you said, I will be sure to give Father your best regards, Philip.”
Philip swore and there was a loud thud that James assumed was the chair being knocked over. “James! Wait!”
“Yes? Did you have something to add?”
Philip let out a bemoaned sigh. “When do we leave for Surrey?”
Chapter Three
“How much longer is this going to take?” Philip asked.
James tilted his head. “How long has it been since you have been at Castborough?”
They had been in the carriage for less than an hour and Philip had been mostly silent. He was pouting, but trying to hide it most of the time.
“I was home at Christmas.” Philip slouched lazily in the corner of his seat. “I came to London after the new year.”
“It has not been that long so you should remember the time it takes to travel from London to Surrey.” His demeanor was calm but James could hardly stand being in the same carriage as his pompous, selfish brother.
“True, although last time it had been in the snow and we had to stop overnight to wait out the storm,” Philip reminded him.
James had forgotten about the snowstorm at the beginning of the year. It had reminded James of a Christmas a long time ago when they were much younger. It had snowed so hard that the road into Castborough had been blocked.
The older siblings had spent Christmas playing games
in the great hall. James and Philip had been scolded by both their father and their mother when Matthew, who was barely three years old at the time, had gotten closed up in a pantry. James had been the one to find him asleep in a cupboard full of tablecloths but he had gotten in trouble all the same.
Philip had tried to take the blame but they both had gotten punished. Later that night Matthew had brought them biscuits that he wrapped in a napkin after dinner. They had all been much closer then and James missed the brother who had tried to protect him.
Philip had been happy and honest, someone that James could rely on for help and advice. Philip had gone to Cambridge a year before James was to go off to school. When he came home at the end of the year he had changed.
Philip had no interest in doing anything in or around Castborough, he only wanted to visit his friends in Kent. James had written it off as a reaction to being gone for so long, thinking that he would be back to normal soon. Philip was hardly around and his behaviour had only gotten worse when he was around.
James had attempted to talk to him but Philip had brushed him off. He had been hurt at first and then angry. After that, James had left Philip to his own devices. The distance between them only grew with time.
“This is such a boring waste of my time. I could be doing so many other things,” Philip whined.
“Oh? Did you have plans this afternoon?” James asked before adding, “It looked as though you were in bed and planning to sleep a few more hours.”
Philip raked a hand through his blond hair, a smile cracking his face. “Well, we did have a late night. I think the dawn was breaking over the horizon as we returned to Fallbrooke Hall. I am not certain, mind you, we were both rather jug bitten by that point.”