Page 57 of His Grace, the Duke
Rosalie blinked, glancing from the duchess to James. “I...”
“Don’t look at them, look at me,” he pressed. “I asked you a question. Do you like living at Corbin House? Would you liketo stay here? Or Alcott Hall... or the townhouse in Bath—any of my properties, really.”
She held his gaze.
“You said you want a choice, and I’m giving it to you now,” he said gently. “Do you want to be a ward of the Corbin family?”
She swallowed down all her fears, looking only at the duke. “Yes,” she whispered.
He clapped his hands once, a broad smile on his face. “Well, then that settles it. Rosalie Harrow ismyward now.”
27
James
James stood there,dumbfounded, watching as George claimed Rosalie as his ward. Never in his life before had he witnessed his brother take such a stand. He didn’t care about other people. He didn’t lift a finger to fight for anyone but himself. He certainly never stood up to their mother in any way beyond the occasional spewing of curses or empty threats. No, James weathered every battle alone.
So, what happened to make George step in at last?
James knew the answer without hesitation.Rosalie. It was all coming down to this beautiful, frustrating, intoxicating woman. In one short month, she’d managed to have even George Corbin bending to her magnetic pull. Christ, would any of them survive her?
“George, you can’t be serious,” their mother huffed.
“Oh, I am deadly serious,” George countered. “Miss Harrow is under my protection now, and she will serve the family atmypleasure, not yours.” He turned to Rosalie and waved his hand in a gesture that looked curiously like the signof the cross. “I hereby revoke any and all previous arrangements you made with my mother.”
“This is ridiculous—”
He spun to face their mother. “Are you still here? Be gone. We have no more need of your poison tonight. And since you are clearly so overtired, I’ll be sure Wilson brings a dinner tray to your room.”
“You would order me about in my own home?” she shrieked.
He puffed himself up to his full height, eyes blazing. “It ismyhouse. I am the fucking Duke of Norland.Me!” To make his point, he waved his signet ring in her face. “You wear my jewels and sit at my table and eat my food, Mama. Never forget it is my generosity that keeps you so comfortable in your luxurious dotage.”
George picked his needle well, for there was nothing their mother hated more than to be called old. Her face turned three shades of pink before she shrieked, ready to strike George, but he moved before James could step forward, grabbing their mother by both wrists. “Claws in, you cat!”
“You ungrateful boy,” she cried, tugging at him to free her. “You worthless creature!”
“Guards!” he squawked.
James blinked. Guards? Did George think he was at the Tower?
Harris the footman peeked his head around the open doorway. His eyes blew wide as saucers when he saw the duke in a scuffle with the dowager.
“Mother, that is enough,” James muttered, embarrassed for her.
With an angry sob, her eye fell on the footman and she stopped struggling.
Panting, George let her go, taking a step back and smoothing a hand through his tousled hair. “Harris, my dear mama is overtired,” he called. “Please see that she makes it safely to her room and have her maid tend to her there.”
“Of course, Your Grace.” The footman stepped forward, ready to escort their mother out.
“This isn’t over,” she hissed at George.
“For tonight at least, it is.”
Snarling under her breath, she swept from the room, not looking back. Harris quickly followed, pulling the door shut with a soft click.
A moment of silence stretched between the three of them. James glanced from Rosalie to George, unsure of what to do next.
