Page 76 of The Mad Marchams

“Colin said you’re going to help him clear out the countess’s suite of rooms.”

“Yes,” Mabel said as Bartle placed a mug of milky tea in front of her and a delicate cup and saucer of something fragrant and green in front of the earl. “I think it’s difficult for him to do it alone.”

“He’s always been a bit of a softie,” the earl said.

“Good for him.” Mabel raised her chin. “It’s nice to see a man who isn’t afraid of expressing how he feels.”

The earl raised an incredulous eyebrow. “That’s all very well, young lady, but a Marcham needs grit to manage this place.”

“And luckily for you Colin has that, too,” Mabel said. “He’s triumphed over adversity and become a stronger man. You must be very proud of him.”

“We’ll have to see about that,” the earl said. “But he’s done a good job so far.” He glanced over to where Colin was laughing with Freddy. “It’s good to see the boys getting along. After Eric died, things were quite difficult between them.”

“Tragedy often has that effect on families,” Mabel agreed. “Especially when people don’t know how to talk things out together.”

The earl looked horrified at the idea of having such conversations, which was very on brand.

“Eric was the best of sons.”

Mabel had nothing to say to that. From all she’d heard, Eric had been the complete opposite, but it wasn’t her place to correct the earl.

“He wasn’t good with money, but he was a true Marcham.”

She glanced over at him. It was almost as if he was trying to convince himself that he was right and challenging her to disagree with him. She remained politely silent.

“But we’ll never know what he might have done, will we? He’s dead and all his future is buried with him because of some stupid brotherly horseplay.” He shook his head. “Colin has a lot to answer for.”

“Colin does?”

“He should’ve taken more care of his brother.”

Mabel’s attempt to be neutral went right out the window. “Excuse me, wasn’t Eric the oldest and your heir? Would you have listened to anything your younger brother tried to tell you when you were nineteen, very drunk, and home on a break from school?”

The earl fixed her with a speculative look. “Probably not.”

“Then surely it’s wrong to blame Colin for the probably stupid thing his brother did?”

“Miss Mabel.”

She looked up to see Bartle hovering.

“Mr. Colin is asking after you,” Bartle said.

Mabel hadn’t quite finished. “Would you have preferred it if Colin had sacrificed his life in a useless attempt to save his brother?”

“He could’ve tried harder.”

“And then you would’ve had two dead sons. Is that really what you wanted?”

“Miss Mabel…” Bartle hurriedly intervened.

To her surprise the earl took her hand and squeezed it hard. “You’re a good sort of girl for an American.”

“Well, thanks, I think.” Mabel stood.

“Colin could do much worse.”

Mabel gently released her hand and turned away with a smile. Bartle elbowed her in the ribs as they walked away.