Page 148 of His Grace, the Duke
Rosalie could scarcely breathe. Was this all really happening? Was George Corbin finally standing up for himself? Standing up for his family? He’d apologized to James, freed Burke from his engagement. And now—
“Wait... Your Grace, you cannot do this,” Piety cried. “You cannot—where does that leave me?”
The duke turned to his teary-eyed bride. “My dear Piety, I would have hurt you worst of all. I am not fit to be any lady’s husband. You should walk out that door right now and thank your lucky stars for your escape.”
Her beautiful eyes were wide, her cheeks pink with emotion.She glanced from George to his brother to the duchess. “Well, don’t think I will go quietly, Your Grace!” she shrieked. “My father will be expecting a remittance for this. You cannot so greatly embarrass me and my family!”
“You’re not seeing the bigger picture,” he said with a sigh. “This will be wonderful for your social climbing career. As I fall from grace, my life burning all around me, you, my sugared date, may rise from my ashes as the one who got away. You’ll have to bat the men of thetonaway with a stick.”
Before Piety could reply, a handsome woman appeared in the doorway. She held her chin high, her fashionable dress and powdered wig denoting her as someone of high rank. She cleared her throat with a little cough, eyes leveled on the duke. “Her Majesty asks to speak with you, Your Grace. Now.”
69
James
James followed hisbrother behind the Queen’s lady-in-waiting as she led them down the narrow hall to a large receiving room at the back of the church. Both brothers paused at the doorway, bowing as they spied the Queen seated in the center of the room, flanked on all sides by more ladies-in-waiting.
“Enter, my lords,” she directed with a wave of her hand.
James stayed a step behind George, bowing again as they came to stand before her.
She pursed her lips at them, eyes darting from one to the other. “I came here today because I received an invitation to attend a wedding. But now the air out there is as festive as a wake. Tell your Queen what is happening.”
When George remained quiet, James took a deep breath, ready to step around him and try to smooth this all over.
But then George stepped forward. “Your Majesty, this is my fault. I... well, I am just the worst duke to have ever lived.” He gave a shrug. “I know who and what I am, and I hate being a duke. I hate the responsibility. I hate havingpeople rely on me for anything.Ever. I have no head for figures. I cannot stand the monotony of farming. I would rather die than be expected to raise children, and if you make me marry today, I can tell you I will break all the vows I make before God and man.”
With each word of his speech, the Queen’s posture hardened. The ladies-in-waiting flanking her shared confused looks, shifting on their feet. “What am I supposed to do with that information, Norland?” the Queen replied with a raised brow.
“Yes, well... I was—well, that is to saywe”—he jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at James—“My brother and I were very much hoping we might just... switch places? If it’s alright with you, that is...”
The Queen frowned. “Let me make sure I am hearing this right... one of my dukes is so highly dissatisfied in his role of dedicating his life as a servant to the Crown that he wishes to upend centuries of tradition and foist his title and all the responsibility therein over to his younger brother. Did I miss anything, Norland?”
George cleared his throat with a nervous cough. “I am highly satisfied with both the Crown and the head that wears it,” he hedged.
James let out a breath, thankful George was showing such decorum.
“My dissatisfaction is all to do with my own personal deficiencies,” George went on. “I defy you, Your Majesty, to find yourself a worse peer than myself. I drink far more than is good for me, I gamble my estate’s hard-earned money away, I fornicate with anything that moves. And I don’t actually think I’m a Christian. It’s not so much that I get a feeling of beingunderwhelmed with the nature of God... it’s more that I simply don’t care. The stories are boring on the whole, the Almighty seems like a vindictive twat most of the time, and I cannot stand all the rules and regulations of the middle bits and—ow—ouch, James. Stop elbowing me.” George glared at him, inching away.
James growled, dropping his arm back to his side. Christ, this was a disaster.
“Viscount Finchley?” The Queen settled her eye on him. “You wish to speak?”
He cleared his throat. “No, Your Majesty. I only wish my brother to stop speaking.”
A few of the ladies-in-waiting hid smiles behind their hands.
The Queen sighed. “I believe I have heard enough. Norland, step forward.”
Casting a wary glance at James, George took two steps forward.
James took a deep breath, readying himself for the worst.
The Queen squared her shoulders. “It hurts us more than we can say that a duke of our realm is so dissatisfied in his position,” she began. “To serve the Crown is a great honor, one that far too many take for granted. Still more assume that this position is a right, not a privilege. Our system is a good one on the whole. But there are moments... there are people, who test it. Norland, I have known you all your life. I knew your father before you. The Corbin family is well-respected as being dutiful servants to the Crown. Should we allow for one weak link to break the Corbin chain?”
George swallowed, hands balled into fists at his side. “Your Majesty could simply remove the weak link and remake thechain anew. I am happy to be removed. I... I’ve never wanted anything more, in fact.”
She sighed, dismissing George with a wave. Then she narrowed her eyes at James. “Viscount, step forward. Let me look at you.”
