Page 53 of Duke of Bronze
"You should not have done this." Colin turned when Roderick spoke, but then he realized the words were meant for Lydia. They struck him all the same.
"Rod, you have the right to know of your brother. I know you never wished for me to reach out to him, much less reveal the truth. But I could not leave this world knowing I had not given you the chance to reclaim what was lost."
Roderick's jaw clenched, his entire frame taut. "Those roots abandoned us, Mother," he bit out, his voice filled with years of bitterness. "They left us to rot."
Lydia's breath came shallow and unsteady, but her gaze remained steady upon her son. "They have found you now," she whispered. "It is not too late."
Another violent fit of coughing overtook her, her frail body trembling beneath its force. Before Colin could move toward her, Mrs. Millard rushed into the room. Her sharp gaze flicked toward him, and for the briefest moment, the sheer disdain in her eyes was palpable.
Colin did not flinch beneath her scorn. He supposed she had every right to regard him thusly. He understood now. Her husband—his brother—should have had the life Colin had beengiven. Or, at the very least, something better than this. If only his father had possessed an ounce of honor or decency.
Instead, the late Duke had left behind nothing but wreckage. Even in death, his shadow loomed like a specter that refused to release its hold.
A bitter taste coated Colin's tongue as he turned on his heel, stepping out of the Millard residence.
Colin found himself uncharacteristically distracted for the remainder of the day. His thoughts, unbidden and relentless, circled back to the revelations at the Millard residence, settling in his mind like an anchor refusing to be lifted.
"Is all well, Your Grace?"
Fisher's voice intruded upon his reverie, drawing Colin's gaze from the swirling amber liquid in his glass. His valet stood near the doorway, his brows knit with genuine concern. "I could not help but notice that you have been quite solemn since your return."
Colin rolled the glass between his fingers before setting it aside. He did not intend to unburden himself—could not, really—but there was something he could do. Something hemustdo.
"I need you to make a trip to the finest toy shop on Bond Street, Fisher."
Fisher blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
Had the request been made under any other circumstances, Colin might have found amusement in the sheer incredulity on the man's face. But the events of the day left little room for humor.
"And another shop, as well," Colin added, his tone brooking no argument. "For sweetmeats."
Fisher's mouth parted slightly, as if he meant to remark, then wisely closed again. He hesitated only a moment before giving a sharp nod. "Very well, Your Grace."
Colin leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple as his valet turned to leave. He had no desire to explain his reasoning; not even to himself.
For now, it was enough to simplydosomething.
And if it helped ease the gnawing ache in his chest, so be it.
CHAPTER 21
Four days later, Colin tightened the satchel's drawstrings with a decisive tug, his fingers lingering for a moment before he carefully tucked it into the vanity drawer of his dressing chamber. He would revisit its contents later. For now, he had other matters to attend to.
Sunlight greeted him as he stepped outside the manor, but even the promise of a new day did little to ease the pressure in his chest, though he welcomed the distraction the afternoon would bring. It was Tuesday once more, and with it came his now customary trip to the children's hospital.
He settled himself comfortably in a dimly lit pub across the street, watching through the open window and waiting. It was not long before a familiar figure appeared.
The moment he caught sight of Anna, his anticipation stirred to life. There was something about watching her move; the way she carried herself—unbothered, determined—that warmed him deep within, even as the nagging ache refused to loosen its grip.
Had she known? Had she always known about Roderick? Did she hold him accountable for his father's sins?
He pushed the thoughts aside as he paid his tab and stepped into the street, closing the distance between them just as she reached the entrance of the hospital.
"I should have known you would follow again," she said without looking at him, though her lips curled slightly in amusement. But the moment her gaze landed on the package in his arms, her curiosity flared.
"What is that?"
"You shall see," Colin said smoothly. "I did promise the children I would ensure you brought me back, did I not?"
