Page 3 of His Enemy Duchess

Thomas looked at him.

“I was the younger brother,” Gregory continued tightly, “but I sometimes felt like the elder. I lost count of how many times I had to run back home and found my brother wrapped in bandages or with a physician over his head patching him up.”

Not much has changed.

Thomas held his tongue, letting his uncle carry on.

“You don’t know how many times I begged him to stop picking fights with the Kendalls. I have often thought in private that Samuel is my brother’s punishment—there always seems to be one in every generation.” Gregory shook his head. “By the time he died, your father probably had so many bullet wounds in him… he would have had less if he went to war, I reckon.”

Thomas almost chuckled at that comment while he pondered. “But I don’t think William is like our father either. I don’t think he is a Samuel, despite what I said up there.” His eyebrows would probably stay in a perpetual frown after this. “However, I can’t control their side. I can only control my side, hoping for the best but anticipating the worst.”

The following silence was deafening.

“What am I going to do, Uncle?”

Gregory steepled his fingers as if he had been waiting for that question. “Do you want to end this feud?”

“You say it as if it is that simple.” Thomas took another sip of his tea. “How would we even go about that? Sign a peace treaty? You know no one will respect it.”

“Well… there are two ways to end this. One is the violent way.”

“Uncle.”

“I’m just kidding, just kidding! I promise.” Gregory stared down into his own cup. “There is a significantly less violent way. And, as you said to your brother, there isalwaysa choice. It is up to you whether to make it or not.”

Thomas did not want to, wary of the reply, but he asked anyway, “And what would that choice be?”

“Thomas, my dear boy, we could solve most of this… if we arranged a marriage between the families.”

A full three seconds passed before Thomas burst into hearty laughter, having to hold his chest to stop himself.

“Come on, Uncle. I thought we had left the schoolroom games in my brother’s bedchamber. I would like a serious suggestion or none at all.”

Proposing a one-off battle between both families, with everyone forming their respective lines with loaded pistols on the sprawling lawns of Hyde Park, would have been less ridiculous. If there was a wedding between the families, the Kendalls would probably send a horse in a veil or a dog in a dress out of spite, creating another unacceptable insult that would cause another duel and possibly another headstone or two in the graveyard.

“I am being serious,” Gregory insisted. “It is the only way.”

“It is not possible,” Thomas argued, shaking his head. “You are asking for the lions to befriend the wolves.”

“Are both not predators who ought to stop scrapping over the same piece of meat, though neither can remember what bit of meat started it all?” Gregory shrugged as if offended. “I think it can be done. I think it is theonlything that can be done, but if you rather keep finding your brother with a physician looming over him—or, eventually, an undertaker—then I shall not say another word.”

A sharp pain pinched Thomas in the center of his chest. All he had to do was look at Gregory, who had been the peacemaker ofhisbrotherly pair, and see himself in ten, twenty, thirty years, having the same conversation with his own nephews or sons, William a casualty of the feud.

Nothing gained, nothing changed, the cycle of misery repeating.

Thomas moved his cup to his opposite thigh. “So, you propose we grab a random idler off the street and train him or her in the ways of our family then send them off to marry one of the Kendalls? Because that’s the only way I can imagine it happening. There is not a single world out there where a Pratt and a Kendall would agree to marry each other. There certainly aren’t enough miracles inthisworld for such an endeavor.”

Gregory pursed his lips. “No need for such hyperbole, Nephew. We already have a perfect candidate for a marriage proposal. One who wants this peace and who would put duty above all, even himself.”

Thomas opened his mouth to speak, but then his thoughts coalesced, and he figured out what his uncle was getting at. “Uncle…”

“There isalwaysa choice, Thomas.” Gregory parroted his nephew’s earlier words. “And we are all trusting you to make a better one.”

CHAPTER 1

Sophia flew into the bedroom, bringing another empty valise with her and flinging it onto the bed.

“Gwen, hurry up, please. My father could be home any second now!” she urged, the drawers and armoires already in disarray as she charged over to add another pile of clothes to the waiting valise. “Make sure to pack the winter clothes in a separate case!”

---