Page 7 of Not the Duke's Virgin

Oliver opened his mouth to respond but seemed to think better of it with guests present. The rest of the meal passed in stilted silence.

Victoria filed away the cryptic remarks. Some unresolved issues festered between the brothers, though they kept their references vague. She wished Oliver had prepared her better for navigating this web of familial discord. She would need all her wits about her.

As the footmen cleared away the soup bowls and returned with the next course, Oliver made a show of smiling affectionately at Victoria and patting her hand. “My dear, you simply must try Cook’s roast duck. It’s superb.”

Victoria forced a smile in return. “Why, thank you, darling,” she said through gritted teeth, the term of endearment feeling foreign on her tongue.

Across from her, Simon coolly appraised the interaction, one dark eyebrow raised skeptically. Victoria felt her cheeks grow warm under his scrutiny and focused intently on her plate.

“So, Brother,” Oliver said, turning his attention to Simon. “Have you given any more thought to the issue we discussed earlier? It seems only right that we cooperate, as Father would have wanted.”

Victoria’s head shot up, a questioning look on her face, but Oliver ignored her, his gaze fixed challengingly on Simon.

The Duke’s expression darkened. “I’ll thank you not to bring my personal affairs into this, Oliver. My business dealings are no concern of yours.”

“Oh, come now, surely family should support each other,” Oliver persisted casually. “After all, cooperation is so important, don’t you agree?”

Victoria stiffened, sensing the insinuation behind his words.

Across from her, Simon’s eyes flashed. “I don’t respond well to manipulation,” he said coldly. “And I’ll remind you that my affairs are entirely my own as the current Duke.”

“Of course, of course,” Oliver said lightly. “I just hope you make wise choices, that’s all. It would be a shame if a lack of cooperation led to unfortunate consequences.”

Victoria felt faint, gripping the edge of the table for support. Fury washed over her. How dare Oliver threaten to force the Duke to cooperate!

The rest of the meal passed in frigid silence, broken only by the footmen as they served and cleared away each course.

She had just begun to relax when Oliver and Simon got into a heated debate yet again.

“You know, I’m rather surprised Father didn’t divvy up the landholdings evenly between us,” Oliver commented, as if thinking aloud. “As brothers, it only seems fair we each receive an equal share.”

Simon’s eyes flashed. “The entire estate has been passed down from Duke to Duke for generations. I see no reason to break with tradition and divvy it up now simply because you feel entitled to land that is not yours.”

“Come now, Simon, no need to be petty,” Oliver chided. “I’m sure Father would have wanted us to cooperate. He always did have a soft spot for me, being the baby of the family. I daresay if he’d made his will later in life, after seeing what a disappointment you turned out to be, he might have left the entire estate to me!”

Simon took a deep breath, resisting the urge to return his brother’s petty insults. “The will clearly states the estate goes to me, regardless of any love match,” he said evenly. “I intend to manage it responsibly, as Father would have wanted.”

Oliver laughed derisively. “We both know you’re incapable of love. Father saw it too, which is why he tried to force your hand with that clause. What a shame his plan failed.”

Simon’s jaw tightened, but he held Oliver’s mocking gaze without reaction. After a tense moment, he replied calmly, “I loved and respected our father, whatever you may think. For now, I’ll hear no more.”

Oliver slowly set down his napkin. “As you wish, Your Grace,” he said mockingly with a small bow.

An ugly silence descended over them, broken only by the clink of cutlery. Victoria sat rigid, unsure what to make of this rancor between the brothers. Glancing at her father, she found him obliviously enjoying his meal. Madeline, however, looked acutely uncomfortable.

When the footmen came to clear away the dishes, Victoria released a discreet breath.

At that moment, Oliver grabbed Simon’s arm as he turned to leave, leaning in close. “A word, Brother? We need to discuss something.” He tilted his head subtly toward the balcony doors across the room.

Simon stiffened, then gave a curt nod. “If you insist.”

The two brothers made their way through the dining room. Oliver slid open the balcony doors and stepped outside into the night air.

“Well?” Simon demanded crisply, joining him and letting the doors swing shut behind them. “What is so pressing that you couldn’t say in there?”

Oliver took a deep breath, gazing out at the estate grounds sprawling darkly below them. “You cannot keep denying me my rightful inheritance!” he said hotly.

Simon’s response was an angry hiss. “Rightful, you say?”

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