Page 65 of Duke of Silver
For a moment, Alexander didn’t breathe. Shock washed over him, quickly followed by a tight, suffocating mix of emotions. Relief flickered for the briefest moment—his brother was alive and well—but it was immediately drowned by anger. The sight of Percy, standing there as though nothing had happened, sent a surge of frustration coursing through him. How dare he show up now? After weeks of silence, after the lies, the scandal, the abandonment.
Elizabeth shifted beside him, sensing the sudden tension. She turned her head, her own surprise evident as she caught sight of Percy, who seemed equally startled to see her there. His eyes darted between them, as if weighing his next words, but Alexander had none of it.
He stood abruptly, the chair scraping the floor as he rose. His body moved stiffly, barely containing the storm that brewedinside him. But when he turned to Elizabeth, his expression softened, though his voice remained tight.
“My dear,” he said, bending to kiss her hand, “I must beg your forgiveness. It seems I will have to leave you to dine alone.”
Elizabeth, ever composed, gave a small nod, though he could see the question in her eyes. There would be time for explanations later. He turned on his heel, casting a glance toward Percy—one filled with ice.
“Follow me,” he said, his voice clipped and unforgiving.
There was a beat of hesitation, a pause in which Alexander wondered if Percy would obey or flee again. But then he heard the soft shuffle of his brother’s footsteps behind him, reluctant but present.
Alexander led the way to his study, the familiar walls of the estate doing little to calm the tempest raging within him. Once they entered, the door clicked shut behind them, and Alexander whirled on Percy, unable to contain himself any longer. His brother stood before him, looking—unbelievably—contrite. The sight only fueled Alexander’s anger further.
“First,” Alexander began, his voice cold and sharp, “you cause a scandal. Then, you deceive me into believing you would fix it. And instead, you abandon the woman you’ve compromised, flee the country, and leave me to salvage what remains of our family’s honor.”
He took a step closer, his fists clenched at his sides. “Then, as if that weren’t enough, you have the audacity to send me a letter questioning my honorable actions—myactions—when it was you who created this mess to begin with.”
His voice rose, his frustration spilling over. “And now, you walk back into my home, sit at my table, and call me ‘brother’ as though nothing has happened? What games are you playing, Percy?”
Percy flinched at the venom in his brother’s words, but he didn’t shrink away. Instead, he met Alexander’s gaze, though there was a weariness to him, a heaviness in his posture that hadn’t been there before.
“I’m afraid I do not have the answers you seek, brother,” Percy said softly, his voice laden with regret.
“Then why are you here?” Alexander demanded, his patience wearing thin. The sight of Percy standing there, looking remorseful but offering nothing more, only served to heighten his frustration.
Percy sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I have come to seek forgiveness.”
“Forgiveness?” Alexander barked a laugh, though there was no humor in it. “The person whose forgiveness you must seek is Elizabeth.”
“I know.” Percy’s reply was quiet, but firm. He lifted his head to meet Alexander’s eyes, his voice steady despite the guilt that weighed on him. “And I intend to spend the rest of my life seeking her forgiveness, if I must.”
The sincerity in Percy’s voice gave Alexander pause, but the anger still simmered beneath his surface. He paced, the words swirling in his mind, but he couldn't let go of one thing. “Then why did you run?” he snapped, turning back to face Percy, his brow furrowed. “Why did you abandon her—and me?”
Percy’s expression darkened, and for the first time, he looked truly shaken. “I don’t know,” he muttered, his voice breaking slightly. “I panicked. I was ashamed. I didn’t know what else to do.”
Alexander’s frustration boiled over. “You didn’t know what else to do? You could have stayed. You could have done the right thing from the beginning, Percy!”
Percy winced, his head lowering, but he didn’t respond immediately. The silence stretched, thick and heavy between them. Finally, Percy spoke, his voice low and broken. “I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready to face any of it—Elizabeth, you, or what I’d done.”
“And so you thought running away would fix everything?” Alexander’s voice was incredulous, the disbelief clear in his tone.
“I thought it would disappear,” Percy admitted, the confession hanging in the air between them like a dead weight.
Alexander shook his head, his anger still simmering but tempered now by a deep sense of disappointment. “And did it?” he asked quietly.
“No.” Percy’s voice was barely above a whisper. “No, it didn’t.”
They stood in silence, the weight of Percy’s actions pressing down on them both. Alexander wanted to rage, to shout, to release the fury that had been building within him for weeks. But as he looked at his brother—his younger brother, the one he had always tried to protect—he saw the guilt and shame written all over Percy’s face. It wasn’t enough to erase the damage, not by far, but it was something.
“I don’t know how to mend this, Alex,” Percy said, his voice breaking. “I know I’ve made a mess of everything. I know I’ve hurt her. But I want to make it right. I have to.”
Alexander stared at him, the conflict raging inside him. On one hand, he wanted to hold onto his anger, to let Percy feel the full weight of his actions. On the other, he couldn’t help but see the brokenness in his brother—the same boy who had once looked up to him, trusted him.
“This isn’t about what you want, Percy,” Alexander said finally, his voice cold but controlled. “You don’t just ask for forgiveness and expect it to be given. You’ve hurt Elizabeth. You’ve damaged our family’s name. You don’t get to run from that.”
Percy nodded, his shoulders sagging under the weight of Alexander’s words. “I know,” he whispered. “
