Page 27 of A Duke for Stealing
A ghost of a smile fluttered across Everett’s lips, then he shifted his hand in hers so he could lace his fingers through her own and led her to his office.
“I never fancied myself good with children,” Everett said as he poured their drinks.
“You have seen me with Seraphina’s and Amelia’s. Amelia’s little sisters, too.”
Rose managed a smile as she sat on the couch.
“Yes, you do seem to get a little stiff around them,” she agreed.
Everett turned back to her with both drinks in hand and smirked.
“Ever the honest lady,” he remarked, bringing them over.
He handed her one of the glasses and then sat beside her, palming his own. Rose looked warily down at the one in her hand, sniffed it.
“What is the matter?” Everett asked, swirling his own glass.
“Is this whiskey?” She asked.
Everett chuckled, took a sip.
“It is,” he agreed after swallowing.
Rose shook her head.
“I have never had whiskey before. I had believed that it was an impossibly strong spirit.”
“It certainly is. With enough, it can turn the smartest man into a twit and the chastest nun into a lady of the night,” he replied.
Rose stared at him wide-eyed, and he laughed again.
“You have no need to worry,” he assured her, “What I gave you will get you close to neither. It will just warm you a bit.”
Rose’s look turned wary, but she raised the glass to her lips and took a small sip. The spirit made her lips buzz, and the taste wasawful- but as it slid down her throat, it filled her with a fuzzy warmth. She took a breath, centering herself, and drank the last of the small pour he’d given her.
“Your cheeks are turning pink,” Everett teased, taking her empty glass. “It must be working.”
Rose nodded, then let out a cough as the spirit curled around her belly.
“That is what you drink so often?” She asked, feathering her hand over her throat. “How do you stand it?”
“The bitterness grows on you,” Everett replied, then set the glasses on the end table. He then leaned back into the couch and sighed. “Sometimes it can even be a welcoming sensation, depending on how rough a particular day was.”
“And this evening,” Rose ventured, relaxing into the couch herself, “It was rough for you?”
Everett nodded, then pinched the bridge of his nose as if trying to disperse a headache.
“Life changed so very fast, you know. I spent the last decade or so doing precisely what I wanted, when I wanted, with whom I wanted. It did not matter, as long as I was contributing to the family fortune,” he paused, letting out a heavy sigh.
“Then suddenly that life was taken away,” Rose offered.
He looked at her, his green eyes weary, and he nodded.
“My brother Paul was seven years older than I, and aside from that, I did not know much about him. Just that he and our mother lived in the country home, and Father and I lived here in Stapleton. Also, that one day, Paul would inherit the dukedom, and not me. Which was fine. I was the second child. I did not expect any less.
“Then father died. Paul became the Duke. And I? Well, I was preoccupied with enjoying my life in London. I never once thought Paul would perish before me. Even though he was older, I was far more reckless, as you know.” He paused, letting out a tired laugh.
“Then suddenly Paul dies too. As does his wife. And not only do I go from Marquess to Duke overnight, I go from estranged uncle to responsible guardian. So much. So quick. The girls and I do not know another. They’re angry they lost their parents.”
