Both men nodded respectfully, but the hooting and jesting immediately surged back to life as the last-place team finally dragged their shell to dry land. The hazing was merciless as Luke lunged forward to claim their shirts. One of the rowers shook a bottle of champagne to spray over the others and then passed it around for the men to drink straight from the bottle.

“Let’s step back a bit,” Gray muttered to Caroline, but the hilarity of the athletes continued unabated.

Tradition dictated that the victorious crew be carried to the clubhouse for a well-deserved celebration. Luke and Philip were hoisted overhead by bare-chested rowers. The rowdy men were already exhausted from the race as they trudged higher up the bank with Luke and Philip held high. Luke made it worse by grabbing a few sweaty shirts and whirling them around. One of the men stumbled, dumping Luke on the ground and onto their father’s shell.

Gray winced, but Luke grinned as he sprang back onto his feet. “No harm done!” he assured the men, but Gray frowned at the shell.

“You’ve just cracked the hull,” he said grimly.

Some of the rowers looked remorseful, but Luke shrugged it off. “Don’t worry, it can be fixed.”

“That was Dad’s favorite boat,” Gray said in a warning tone. Didn’t Luke have respect for anything or anyone? Their father had treasured that boat as a memento of a world they’d lost during the war, but Luke had already moved on to the clubhouse, leaving the cracked shell on the riverbank.

Gray squatted down to assess the damage. Could it be made watertight again? A trained craftsman could probably repair it, but it would cost money, and Gray intended to deduct it from Luke’s allowance.

It wasn’t the money that bothered him, it was the pain of seeing his father’s boat so thoughtlessly treated. The others streamed toward the clubhouse, leaving him alone. He didn’t want to leave this boat broken and abandoned on shore, so he summoned a pair of attendants to stow it in the boathouse. Gray watched as they lifted the shell and secured it on a storage rack.

Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll get it fixed.

But it was Luke his father would want him to fix, not the boat.

Luke missed dinner that night, but Gray left a message with the butler to notify him the moment Luke arrived back at the townhouse. It was time to demand his little brother start pulling his own weight in the family business. It was after nine o’clock when their butler, Mr. Holder, knocked on the study door.

“Your brother has returned, sir.”

Gray nodded. “Send him in, please.”