He set down his glass of whiskey, no longer having a taste for the stuff. There wasn’t enough drink in the world to dull the desolation aching hollowly in his chest where his heart had been.
Crossing his arms, he leaned back against the wall and grimly shook his head. The only way he could receive the partnership was if he helped Winslow to profit from the destruction of St Katharine’s, and in the process, lose all chances at a future with Mariah. But if he chose Mariah, Winslow would think him too cautious and weak-willed to deserve the partnership…and with that, lose the best opportunity to prove himself worthy of the Carlisle name. Mariah and the partnership—he knew now that he could never have both.
“Love her or not,” he muttered, “either way I’m damned.”
He turned his face away before his brothers saw the emotions burning inside him. The last time he’d felt this frustrated, this powerless, was the night Father died. With Mariah’s help, he thought he’d healed that wound, only for it to return with an intensity so strong that it was nearly blinding.
“When have you ever let anyone stop you from getting what you want?” Seb asked.
Robert sucked in a harsh breath. His brothers were right. He’d never backed down from a fight in his life.
But they didn’t understand the choice he was being forced to make. “It’s a helluva lot more complicated than you realize,” he ground out. Then he succinctly summed up the torment that had been engulfing him since last night when she’d shattered in his arms, “If I marry her, I lose the partnership.”
Quinn shrugged as if that meant nothing. “You’ve a brilliant business mind, Robert. You’ve only been making business ventures for the past two years, since after Father died.” Robert felt Sebastian’s gaze dart to him and pin there, even as Quinn continued, “But it’s only a matter of time until you’re successful. You will become a partner, if not in Winslow Shipping then in some other business.”
“No,” he argued, jabbing a finger at the floor. “It has to be this company. It’s the best opportunity at the best company. The best, damn it! And I will not fail at this. I will not be another disappointment, not in this.”
Struck by the force of his words, Quinn was taken aback. “You’ve never failed at anything in—”
“That’s not it,” Sebastian interrupted. His eyes narrowed as they studied Robert, then flickered knowingly as understanding dawned on his face. “His problem has nothing to do with this partnership, not really.”
Quinn blinked. “Then what is it?”
“It’s about Father.”
Fresh grief spread through Robert as he returned Sebastian’s stare in the sudden silence that fell over all three brothers, unable to deny it. The tension suddenly grew so thick between them that each heartbeat only added to it, each ticking second growing the silence deeper. Robert wasn’t used to such silence when the three of them were together, and it rattled him. So did the implication behind his brother’s quiet accusation.
“You still blame yourself, don’t you?” Sebastian asked somberly.
Robert refused to look away. This conversation had been two years in coming, along with the punishment he deserved. “Don’t you?”
“No,” Sebastian answered honestly. “But there was a time when I did. When the grief was still fresh and I needed someone to blame.”
“I sure as hell did,” Quinn put in, the raw honesty in his brother’s voice tearing through his chest like a knife. “But I stopped eventually.”
“We both did, while Mother and Josie never blamed you in the first place,” Sebastian divulged with a faint shake of his head. “The only person who hasn’t stopped blaming you, Robert, is you.”
His eyes stung as he glanced between his brothers. Because of Mariah, he’d found a way to realize that his father’s death had truly been only an accident. He’d been able to find his way out of that torture.
But he hadn’t been able to let go of everything regarding that night.
“The last moments of his life were spent dragging me out of a gambling hell,” he bit out hoarsely, the self-recrimination inside him so brutal that he flinched. “That’s how low I’d fallen. How much of a mockery I’d made of him and the family.”
“You think you’re the only son he ever had to bring home?” Sebastian slowly shook his head. “He dragged me out of a tavern.”
His heart pounding, Robert looked at Quinton. “You, too?”
“Twice,” Quinn admitted ruefully.
He vehemently shook his head. It hadn’t been the same for them, it hadn’t been! “He lectured me right there in the street, told me that I—”
“Had been raised to be a better man than that?” Quinn interrupted gently.
Sebastian’s eyes softened sympathetically. “That he was disappointed in you?”
His heart leapt into his throat. He admitted in a rasping whisper, “Yes.”
Quinn and Sebastian exchanged a solemn look, then Quinn nodded slowly. “The same things he said to us.”
“And if you would have had the same chance,” Seb assured him, “you would have done exactly what we both did, which was to apologize and work to change your ways.”
Quinn added somberly, “And be told by Father a week later that you were forgiven.”
“But you weren’t given that chance, so you’ve spent the last two years trying to force it to happen.” Sebastian shook his head. “But you’ll never be able to now, no matter what kind of success you reach, no matter how respected a name you make for yourself. And you will, because you’re capable and hardworking.”
Mariah had told him the same thing, and he’d attacked her for it. A new guilt rose inside him, one that began to replace the guilt he carried for his father. And a new grief, as well. This time for losing her.
A paternal expression fell over Sebastian’s face as he said quietly, “You are the good man Father raised all of us to be.”
Silence fell over them again, and Quinn turned his face away, but not before Robert saw the glistening in his eyes. Sebastian pushed himself away from the billiards table and reached for the bottle of cognac on the side buffet to refill his glass.
“So you don’t need to prove your worth to any of us, and least of all to Father. We’ve all come to terms with what happened that night, and now you should, too,” Sebastian assured him, taking a slow sip of brandy. “But if you are determined on that path anyway, then you don’t need to worry. Another company will come along, one just as good in its own way as Winslow Shipping.”
“But there will never be another Hellion,” Quinn added quietly.
Robert blew out a breath, his heart racing beneath the twisting coils of emotions. Gone was the guilt over his father and the need to prove himself, but in its place came a terrifying fear of losing Mariah. The woman was the toughest challenge he’d ever encountered in his life. And the one challenge he most wanted to win.
“Think of it this way,” Sebastian told him. “Propose to her, and the happiness you’ve had this season has a chance of continuing, and for the rest of your life. But if you don’t, all the happiness she gives you will be lost. You’ll never be able to laugh with her again, or kiss her, or—”
“Make her toes curl,” Quinn put in with a grin. Then his smile faded as he murmured sardonically, “But at least you’ll have your business to give you satisfaction.”
“It’s that simple. The partnership or the woman you love.” Sebastian’s voice was quiet as he laid a hand on Robert’s shoulder, his eyes grave. “Now, which do you choose?”
Ten minutes later, Robert charged up the steps of the Winslow town house and pounded his fist against the door.
He had no intention of leaving until Mariah had heard him out. He would explain everything to her, make her understand how he’d gotten caught up in her father’s plans, and ask forgiveness for being so blind to what mattered most to her. Then he would convince her to marry him.
He grimaced. No matter how many months it took.
The door opened, and the butler peered out. “Yes?”