The other man stopped, his hands spreading out on the desk. “We only need ever talk about this once. But I knew your father back from my days in London.”
Ash stilled, his body growing cold. “I’m sure. You’re the son of an earl. He was the son of a viscount.”
Mr. Moorish nodded. “There wasn’t a kind bone in that man’s body.”
Ash rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze carefully trained on the floor. He didn’t want to show any emotion now. It was too late to do a thing about his lost childhood. No one knew his past. Granted, he preferred for others not to know the shame, but it also made him lonely. “No. There wasn’t.”
“And he was a terrible gambler. Womanizer. Left you in ruin.”
Ash’s shoulders sagged. Was this relief he was feeling? It was actually nice to open up about his life and the problems he faced with someone. “I don’t care about inheritance. I wouldn’t have wanted his money.”
Mr. Moorish took a seat and gestured for Ash to do the same. “Good for you. The question is what to do with yourself now.”
Ash shrugged. How much did he tell Mr. Moorish? He liked this man and for the first time ever, he’d like to open up. Share his feelings, his past. He drew in a shaky breath. This was so new to him. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought beyond not continuing my father’s legacy.”
Mr. Moorish cocked his head to the side. “That shouldn’t be hard.”
Ash nearly laughed. Very true. “May I ask what my father has to do with me touring your shipping company?”
Mr. Moorish sat back in his chair. “You may, indeed. I’d like to offer you a job, if you’re interested.”
Ash squared his shoulders. “A job?”
Mr. Moorish shrugged. “I know that viscounts don’t usually work for shipping companies, but you’re in a unique position. Well-educated, connected, and in need of money. I could use a man who can be groomed to take over for me at some point. I’m not getting any younger.”
“Take over?” He’d seen the way the Moorish family lived. Lavish might describe their home. Far more so than many titled lords.
Mr. Moorish leaned forward, steepling his hands in front of his face. “I’ve seen your interest in Cordelia.”
Bloody Christ. He was being offered the most tempting woman in the world and a thriving business in one conversation. “Mr. Moorish.” He spread his hands out on the other side of the desk. “Your daughter is lovely…”
The other man’s eyebrows rose up. “But?”
He shook his head, his gut absolutely rioting with nerves. “Because you knew my father, I will be more candid with you than I have ever been. I have no intention of continuing his legacy. I plan to allow the Viscountcy to die with me.”
Mr. Moorish sat back in his chair again. He tossed his glasses on the desk and rubbed his face. “I see.” He cleared his throat again and he shifted in his chair. “My father was not as mean as yours, but he wasn’t kind either. I met with his fist on a rather frequently and the wrong end of a riding crop with a decent amount of regularity.”
Ash stilled, his hands gripping the arms of his chair.
“When I was old enough, I ran away to London, and I spent my time drinking, whoring, and laughing away the hurt I felt deep inside.”
“I…” Ash started, swallowing a lump. He could hear the pain in the other man’s voice, and it mirrored his own.
Mr. Moorish waved away the futile attempt at conversation. “My father called me back on his deathbed. He gifted me the part of the earldom my older brother didn’t want. Now the current earl bears a striking resemblance to my father and his wife is awful. I’m surprised Cordelia believed I would send her to live with Mildred for even a second.” He took a deep breath. “But I decided on that day to be the man I wanted to be. The father I knew I should be. I’ve stuck by that. Even after my wife’s death. And I hope that love, the love I’ve taught my daughters, will carry through the generations.”
“Mr. Moorish,” Ash started, shifting in his chair. “That is a moving story.”
“Call me Tom,” he answered. “Listen, son. You have a choice.”
Ash swallowed. “I do?”
“Yes. You can allow your title to die. That’s one way to hurt your father’s memory. Or…” He held up a single finger. “You can live your best life. Bring beautiful children into the world, that have all the love, happiness, and an enduring kindness that trickles through generations of Dashlanes. Kill the man your father was with love and kindness. It’s your choice.”
Ash’s heart pounded in his chest. He thought of Cordelia again. The vision of her on the bench with the little girl at her side. “Take me to your boats. I’ve got a business to learn.”
* * *
Cordelia sat on the beach as the last rays of sun began to set. She needed to return home for dinner or her family would wonder where she’d disappeared.