James Dale Starkett knelt beside the bed, listening to his father, the Duke of Starkett—James Phil Starkett—speak his final words.

  "...Junior, my son, I'm truly sorry." The agony of disease ravaging his body made it difficult for the duke to utter even a few simple words, yet he knew with certainty that if he did not confess now, he would never have another chance.

  "...I'm sorry I failed the family."

  "Don't say that, Father." James clasped the duke's hand, feeling his father's life force grow ever weaker.

  "I will reclaim the glory of this family," James promised his father.

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  "You have always been a bright and upright young man. From this day forward, you are the Duke of Starkett. Though I have impoverished this family, I want you to know I have always been proud to be a Starkett. I hope you will be too."

  "I am."

  The duke smiled with satisfaction as he looked at James, then closed his eyes, never to open them again.

  Tears welled up in James's eyes.

  "JD." Buck Lavett appeared at the doorway, calling James by his nickname. Before JD could speak, Buck already knew from the look on his face that the duke had passed away.

  "JD, come."

  JD nodded, lifting the duke from the bed. Following Buck's lead, he carried his father's body from the second-floor bedroom downstairs, through the hallway, and into the backyard. Beside the great trees planted in the backyard lay the burial grounds for generations of the Starkett family. He honored his father's final wish, laying him to rest beside his wife—JD's mother.

  Only now did JD truly realize he had become the Duke of Starkett.