Page 61 of A Raven Reborn

This conversation was unlike any interaction Patrick had ever had with his brother. “Who are you, and what have you done with Edward?”

Edward turned around, blinking with bafflement. “What does that mean?”

“My brother would never be so introspective and vulnerable. He would never apologize. And he would certainly never allow himself to be punched square in the face by his little brother.”

Edward roared with laughter. Real laughter. Before today, Patrick would have thought his brother incapable of it. He may have misjudged Edward. Or at the very least, he may have misunderstood the reasons behind his pompous nature.

“Perhaps if your brother had done those things, he would have had the support of his little brother when he needed it, in turn.”

For the first time in their adult lives, Edward had allowed Patrick behind his mask, and he was suddenly able to see the familiar demons that lurked there. It had never occurred to him how heavy a burden it must have been for his brother to assume the mantle of marquess upon their father’s death.

“I’m sorry, Edward.” Patrick crossed the room and placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder, once more. “If I had recognized your struggles, I’d like to think I would have been here to help you fight them, rather than running off to London, trying to hide from my own at the bottom of a bottle.”

Edward stood and wrapped his arms around him. Patrick froze. It was the first time in their entire lives they’d ever embraced as brothers. But if Edward could manage it, so could Patrick. He returned the hug and pounded his brother on the back.

It was a brief show of affection, but something had shifted between them. “Thank you, Patrick. I don’t think I had any idea how much I needed”—he motioned back and forth between them—“all of this.”

Patrick nodded. “Perhaps I did too.”

Edward smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “So, tell me about Rosie.”

* * *

Patrick had been right about Ariana. She was the epitome of kindness. Still everything that a lady should be, elegant, poised, proper, but there was a softness about her. Rosie was none of those things, and she didn’t belong here. Patrick should be marrying someone like Ariana.

“I was so pleased to see you arrive with Patrick. I was afraid he’d never allow himself to find happiness.” Arianna sipped her tea. “I knew him more as a boy than as a man, but even then, he was a bit of a tortured soul. He never let anyone within arm’s length and had built an entire fortress around his heart. You must be very special, indeed, Rosie.”

“But I’m not special.” Rosie was careful not to get into too much detail. She didn’t want to shock the marchioness, afterall. “Patrick rescued me from a dire situation.”

Wisdom seemed to inhabit Ariana, and it showed itself in her smile. “I have no doubt that you rescued him every bit as much.”

“I don’t know about that.” Rosie fidgeted with the cup she held in her lap.

“I do. Such pride radiated from him when he introduced you. And he looked as if he might breathe fire when my husband snubbed you.” Rosie had felt exactly as she’d expected to feel in the presence of a marquess. She had felt his disdain.

Before she could sift through it all in her mind, the door opened, and the two men entered. Rosie gasped. Lord Epworth was, in fact, sporting a swollen, bloodied lip. She turned to Ariana expecting to see horror on her face, but her eyebrows were lifted, her expression telling him in no uncertain terms that he’d gotten what he deserved.

Rosie closed her mouth and tried to compose herself, her heart still pounding inside her chest. But the two men didn’t seem to be at odds. In fact they were smiling. In spite of that, as Lord Epworth approached her, she felt the color drain from her face, her chest tightening around her lungs as she tried to draw breath.

“I owe you an apology, Rosie. I’m afraid the surprise of my brother’s unexpected pronouncement rendered me quite speechless. That’s no excuse for my rudeness, however, and I am sorry.”

Rosie was nearly made speechless herself, by the apology. “Thank you, Lord Epworth. I’m sure my arrival on your brother’s arm was quite a shock.”

He held out a hand. “Please, call me Edward.” Feeling completely off-balance, she tentatively placed her hand in his. What was the sitting down equivalent of a curtsey? He bowed over the top of their hands. “It is my honor to make your acquaintance, Rosie, and I welcome you into our family.”

What was happening right now? This was good, right? Was this good? What had Patrick done to him? She needed to say something instead of just sitting there like an addlepated twit. “Thank you, L… Edward.” She tried her best to smile. Somehow, she was more intimidated by his cordiality than she had been his acrimony. Perhaps because that had been expected. His kindness had not.

Ariana pulled her husband away, saving her from having to say anything else. They strolled to the far side of the large drawing room, and Patrick sat beside her. “Are you alright?” she asked, placing her cup and saucer on the nearby table and running her hand over the side of his face.

“Of course I am.” He took her hands in his. “I’m better than alright, actually.”

“Did you threaten him?” she whispered.

He chuckled softly. “Threats don’t leave marks, Rosie.”

She gaped at him. He had hit him. “Did you force him to apologize and say those things?”

Patrick shook his head. “I didn’t have to.” He shrugged. “I may have knocked some sense into him, but mostly I think I probably misjudged him. Although, I'm not sorry I punched him. He deserved that, regardless.”

---