As he did. He knew he would be the duke no matter what—lineage being what it was—but he also knew he couldn’t just continue as though he weren’t the duke, so he was obliged to learn what Frederick had to teach him. And to use his power to try to enact some change, no matter how small.

Frederick chuckled. “I suppose she is, now that I think about it. From what I understand, she is very much her own lady. Determined to make her own way in the world.” A pause, and then he continued. “And she behaved in a way that affected her family profoundly.”

Griffith winced at the implied criticism. He hadn’t given a thought to the family he’d cared about that he’d left behind. He’d just known that the life his parents wanted for him wasn’t the life he wanted.

“I’m sorry, Fred.”

Frederick shook his head. “Don’t be. You did what was right for you. I just wish I had been that brave before—” He gestured to himself, clearly indicating his illness. “Speaking of which, I promised you I would consult with another doctor. I have one scheduled very soon. Not that I am hoping for a miracle, or anything.”

Griffith felt his chest tighten at the reminder of Fred’s illness.

“You know I will do my best to prove a worthy successor.” He meant it, even though it originally felt as though it were foisted onto him.

Poor Griffith, he thought ruefully. Forced to become a duke, with estates and wealth and power.

He was ridiculous.

“I know you will. That’s why I am relieved to hear that Lady Della will not be your duchess.” Frederick’s eyes crinkled. “She would make a terrible duchess, always doing just what she wanted to, not behaving with proper decorum.”

“Oh, like me, only she’s female.”

It was unfair, but that was the way of their world. And if he could help her regain some of her previous standing, at the very least so she could appear in Society without people whispering about her?

He would.

“My lord.” Clark stepped into the room after a cursory tap on the door.

“What is it?” Griffith said, turning to look at his first mate. No, his valet now. Always his friend. Clark’s expression was drawn.

“You’re needed.”

Griffith didn’t wait to hear any more; he strode to the door, pushing it wide to accommodate his body as he walked through. Clark held his hat out, and Griffith smashed it on his head with barely a pause. “They weren’t able to arrest you, so they’ve taken Hyland.” His sailing master.

“What are the charges?”

“Same as yours, I suppose. Interference with property and then he resisted, so they’re charging him with assaulting an officer.”