Page 58 of His Grace, the Duke
“HolyfuckingChrist, that was so stressful.” George sank onto the closest empty chair.
Rosalie stepped around James, dropping to her knees by George. She reached for him with one hand. “Are you alright, Your Grace?”
“James, I think my arse is sweating,” George cried, glancing at him with an anxious look.
James took the chair opposite his brother. “George, you didn’t need to do that...”
“I did,” he replied, fanning himself with his hand. “I should have done it years ago. God, it felt so good to see her squirm. Did you see her? I really think she thought I meant it when I said I’d throw her out.”
James raised a brow. “Did you not?”
“I can’t even dismiss a servant when I know they’re stealing from me. You think I could toss my own mother to the street?”
For a moment, James caught Rosalie’s eye. He had to quickly look away as he saw her lips curl into a smile. George was certainly an odd kind of champion for them both.
“Did you mean what you said?” he asked. “Do you really want me to stay?”
“Of course, I want you to stay,” George replied, sitting forward. “You’re my brother, James. You’re a Corbin. As things stand now, you’re my heir. Your place is here. Always.” James couldn’t deny the small fluttering he felt in his chest when he heard his brother say the words. It was small... but it was there. He glanced at Rosalie fast enough to watch her head turn as she wiped a tear away from under her eye.
“And me, Your Grace?” she murmured. “Are you certain I’m not more trouble than I’m worth?”
George faced her. “Hmm... that remains to be seen. You certainly have caused quite the stir. But anyone who is willing to stand up to my fearful mama is a friend worth having, eh James?”
She laughed. It was a soft sound, low in her throat. She covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes going wide as if the sound surprised even her.
“I’ve never actually had a ward before,” George went on. “I’m not sure of the protocol. What do I do with you? Dress you? Do you need a spending allowance? Feed you, of course. Dancing lessons or... you’re probably too old for a French tutor. Do you want to learn German?”
“I don’t need anything, Your Grace,” she said with another soft laugh. “I thank you for your generosity, and I’m willing to help you in any way I can. I mean to earn my keep.”
George’s eyes lit up as he glanced from James to Rosalie. “This is fantastic,” he cried. “You’ll be like my own littleshadow. Oh Cabbage, there’s so much fun we can have together!”
“George, be serious,” James warned. “Just because she is your ward, that does not entitle you to treat her like a servant. What if you simply live and let her live—”
George held up a hand. “Quiet, James. This doesn’t concern you.”
Rosalie gave James a sympathetic look before turning her attention back to George. “I am in your debt, Your Grace—”
“Say nothing of that,” he replied with a wave of his hand.
Loud voices and laughter in the hall alerted them right before the door to the study was flung open.
“No, I don’t know where—oh—there you are, darling. Prue, I found them!” Piety Nash stumbled into James’ study. She hung on the door, glancing around the room at the three of them.
“Are you lost, sugar plum?” George called.
The forced sweetness between the pair was enough to make James want to gag.
Piety blinked, still holding onto the door. “You’ve been gone for ages, Your Grace. You said you’d play cards with us.” She narrowed her eyes on Rosalie, forcing a smile. “Ah... and Miss Harrow is here too. How nice. We hoped you might indulge our desire for miniature portraits before dinner.”
Rosalie got to her feet, smoothing down her skirts. “Of course, Miss Nash.” She bobbed a little curtsy to them both before making her escape.
“I’ll be along soon too, my candied apple,” George called after them.
Piety gave him a winning smile before she, too, disappeared. The door clicked shut once again, leaving the brothers alone.
“Heavens,” George muttered, breaking the awkward silence. “That was... she stood up to our mama.”
James let out a slow exhale. “I know.”
