Although the thought of remaining here made him almost physically ill. He wished he could enlist a first mate in this venture as he could at sea. This he’d have to do on his own.

Which would leave him vulnerable in this new world.

“My only requirement is that you seek more doctors’ advice.” Because he wanted Frederick to live, of course, but he also did not want to inherit too quickly.

Frederick responded with that easy smile. “Yes, if that is your stipulation. Not that they’ll suddenly give me a clean bill of health.” He nodded in satisfaction. “I knew you would say yes. You’re too good a man.”

Griffith snorted. “Tell that to the naval authorities.”

Frederick gestured for Griffith to wheel him back in. “What did you do anyway?”

Griffith guided the chair back into the room. “The usual. Refusing to let an injustice stand, thumbing my nose at the authorities.” He released his hold on the chair and sat back down on the sofa. He crossed his arms over his chest and cocked an eyebrow at his cousin. “Given that, are you certain you want me as your heir? I’m bound to do something to set someone’s teeth on edge.”

“I know that, but it’s not as though I have a choice,” Frederick pointed out. “One cannot just decide who will be one’s heir, or at least one of the previous dukes would have chosen his favorite bottle of brandy or perhaps a particularly juicy roast of beef.”

“I can be intoxicating,” Griffith replied, waggling his eyebrows at his cousin. “And I am certainly rare.”

Fred laughed as he shook his head, and then his expression turned serious. “I know this is the last thing you want, Griff, but it is the only thing that can be. You’ll have to make the best of it and hope I don’t die before you’ve learned everything that has to be done.”

“How long?” he asked.

Fred glanced to the side, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I have six good months, if the doctors are correct, to teach you all you have to know.”

Six months. Unless the doctors were wrong. No more months at sea. Griffith felt as though he were being strangled by responsibility, but he couldn’t refuse, and not just because it was the law.

It was the right thing to do, to take up the reins of responsibility. To spend Frederick’s remaining months reassuring his cousin that the dukedom wouldn’t be falling into complete disrepair. Perhaps he could find time, at some point, to engage in more improper procedures that would suddenly be proper because he was too important to impugn. He’d definitely be able to rescue as many people on land as he had at sea, cold comfort though that was.

“I’ll do it, Fred. I’ll make certain you’re proud of me.”