Page 48 of Married to the Lord

Chapter Eighteen

Miles glanced at the drinks cabinet in the library. He only kept the damned thing around because the piece of furniture was over one hundred years old and purchased by his grandfather. Now, he was wishing he’d rid himself of the thing as soon as he had inherited his title. Dark, carved mahogany inlaid with ivory and jade tempted him with what lay behind it—whisky, brandy, and several other liquors—kept for visitors and guests—but tempting nonetheless.

He shook his head to himself. He was losing his wits. Drink rarely tempted him these days and he could indulge the odd one with no problems. However, tonight he just knew if he pulled the cork on one of those bottles, he would drink himself into a stupor—something he had not done in many years.

With one last glance at the cabinet, he rose from the desk, his chair screeching upon wooden floors. He rubbed a hand across his face and doused the lamps, retrieving a candle to carry through the darkened corridors with him until he reached the main drawing room. From there he could observe the front entrance to the house and watch out for Henry. He shook his head as he stepped into the drawing room and lit several candles from his own, glancing at the clock. His mother had long retreated to bed, unconcerned by Henry’s lack of presence at dinner. He had lots of friends to visit and one could not expect him to wish to spend every hour with his family, she had said.

Miles pressed his lips together and sank onto the sofa. Henry was indeed popular and no doubt had many friends to catch up with but what their mother did not know, is that many were commenting on the fact that they had barely seen Henry since his return. The fact was, his brother was acting strange indeed. Just yesterday, he had rose early and spent the morning goodness knows where. Given none of his acquaintances were prone to early mornings, Miles could not fathom it.

Suppressing a yawn, he set the candle to one side. If only he’d have thought to have a pot of coffee but all the servants were in bed and he was not inclined to wake them. Anyway, despite that fact his eyes were heavy and gritty, he would not sleep—not until Henry had returned and told him what the devil was going on. None of this behavior was becoming of a man about to be married and, by God, if Henry was involved in something untoward...

No, surely not? Henry had always been the good brother. Running off and travelling the world might not be considered the most gentlemanly behavior in a fiancé, but it was nowhere near as torrid as what Miles had ended up involved in. Whatever was going on, he could not bring himself to believe that Henry had been so foolish as to follow in his older brother’s footsteps.

He jerked awake at the sound of a door shutting, his chin slipping from where it had been propped on his hand. He blinked in the dim light and took a moment to orientate himself. Gone were the images of Augusta that had floated temptingly behind his eyelids. Instead, his brother stepped into the room, scowling when he saw Miles.

“What the devil are you still doing up?” Henry asked.

Miles glanced over his brother, noting his incorrectly tied cravat and ruffled hair. “I could ask you the same.”

Henry lifted a shoulder. “Oh, just visiting with friends.”

Miles rose to his feet and rubbed the knot that was gathering at the back of his neck. “Were you drinking?”

“Barely. Now, if you do not mind, I am hideously tired. I should—”

Miles stepped in front of his brother before he could leave the drawing room.

“This is not the first time you have returned home in the early hours.”

Henry lifted a brow. “I did not know you were my keeper, Miles.”

“Funnily enough, I am. In case you have forgotten, once I inherited the title, that is almost exactly what I became.”

Henry laughed then frowned. “Good God, you are not jesting.”

“I have made excuse after excuse for your absence and let you be for too long in the hopes you would return on your own. Now that you are home, you are hardly here and you have been neglecting your fiancée most terribly.” Miles blew out a breath. “Goddamn it, Henry, you should have seen her at the ball...”

His brother’s expression turned sheepish. “I know, Miles, really I do, and I apologized most heartily to her and we shall set a date very soon. You need not worry. I shall do my duty.”

“Your duty started as soon as you proposed to her,” he said between clenched teeth. Damn, if he was her fiancé, he’d never let her out of his sight. He’d have her wed in a heartbeat and certainly not out at all hours and neglecting to dance with her and make her the happiest woman on earth.

Henry glanced him over. “You have changed a lot, Miles. Since when did you begrudge a man a little time before wedding and settling down?”

“Since you showed that you cannot be trusted,” Miles bit out. “Where have you even been? What is so important that you would continue to neglect your fiancée?” Miles narrowed his gaze at him. “Are you drinking? Gambling? fighting?”

Henry snorted. “I’m not you, Miles.”

He took a step back, shaking his head. His brother was not wrong—Henry had never been like him and despite his odd behavior, he would never do the things that he did. It did not mean the jab did not strike true, however. He shoved a hand through his hair. “It has been a long time since I have done any of those things.”

Henry nodded. “And do you really think, having seen what you went through, that I would do the same?”

“Yet you can still offer me no explanation for your whereabouts?”

“What is this? The Spanish inquisition?” Henry went to move past him. “I’m exhausted and I have a need to find my bed.”

Miles stepped to the side, blocking his exit. “I know when you are lying to me, Henry. If you are in trouble...”

“I am in no trouble, Brother. If you believe nothing else, then believe that.” Henry’s shoulders sagged. “Do not fear, I shall do the right thing, just as I promised.”

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