Page 7 of Burning Secrets of a Lady's Pen
Corin tried not to frown in return at his brother and didn’t succeed. It was hard to keep a neutral expression when Romeo was in one of his moods. Especially when one of his moods had seen him out of the country and in France for the past fortnight while his wife pined away at home, and Corin was left to take care of her.
“No one told you that you needed to drink any,” Corin said placidly, biting back all of his more acerbic remarks.
“It’s all that our aunt has put out yet,” Romeo sighed, falling down gracelessly into an armchair and splaying himself out upon it. “No whiskey, no brandy…Just…champagne drier than my wife’s nether regions.”
At that tactless remark, Corin didn’t bother to hide his severe frown.
“Perhaps you should remember that she is your wife,” he bit out, fighting the urge to stand and shake his brother. It was an urge he had been fighting for more than half of his life and one that he feared was only becoming more prominent with age.
“Perhaps you should remind her of such,” Romeo responded off-handedly, clearly unbothered by his brother’s ire. “She’s not let me back home yet, you know.”
Corin did know. Unfortunately, he knew in great detail more than he ever cared to. Sybille wasn’t allowing Romeo back home, because once again, Romeo had been caughtin flagrantewith one of his many, many mistresses. Or, to hear Romeo tell it, framed—but they all knew the truth of the matter, no matter what protestations Romeo put up. At twenty-two, he was unchanged from his sixteenth year, and Corin had long given up the hope that that might change.
So he didn’t comment.
Not even when he caught his brother eying him speculatively.
He knew what was coming. Romeo was nothing if not predictable.
“Perhaps you might talk with her,” Romeo pressed, his voice dropping to try and be convincing.
Corin grimaced, also wishing that his aunt had set out something stronger than champagne, in that moment.
“I’m not asking you to make her forgive me, you know,” Romeo continued with a long-suffering sigh. “Just for you to talk her into letting me back into the house. And to let me plead my own case. You know that I love her.”
Corin bit down on the inside of his cheek.
He did know that. Romeo loved Sybille beyond reason. It just didn’t seem to be enough for him to change his womanizing ways.
“Corin…”
“I’ll talk to her!” Corin snapped, standing and snatching Romeo’s champagne flute from his hand. He downed the last of it in one swift drink. “But at some point, you’re going to have to learn to settle things with her on your own.”
Or else Corin might perish from an ulcer from the stress of it all.
“Settle what with who?” a delicately feminine voice asked from the doorway.
If Corin had been sure his aunt wasn’t lurking behind the corner, he might have cursed. Charlotte, despite being far gentler and kinder than her mother, had the older countess’s impeccable timing.
“My wife,” Romeo answered unapologetically. He rose languidly from where he’d been lounging, shooting a charming grin at Charlotte before leaning to kiss her on her temple on his way out of the door. “But it’s all settled now. Corin is going to be a wonderful brother and take care of it for me. And I’m going to go try and hunt out where your mother has hidden the good liquor. I can hear guests now. She must have set it out somewhere.”
Corin bit back a sigh, following his brother and offering his arm to his cousin as Romeo disappeared.
“You’re going to have to stop bailing him out eventually, you know,” Charlotte said softly as Corin escorted her from the room. “Sybille really doesn’t deserve what he puts her through.”
“I’m sure that there are things Sybille puts him through as well,” Corin lied artlessly. “Marriage is a private affair, Charlotte. One never knows what goes on behind closed doors.”
Charlotte gave him a peevish look, her brows furrowed as she considered him. He instantly regretted his choice of words. He’d been avoiding talking about marriage for weeks with her ever since she’d gotten it into her head that his mourning period ought to be over.
“Mother will be happy to hear you speaking so fondly of marriage,” Charlotte said instead of chastising him. Though her words were almost the worse for it. “She’s mentioned several eligible ladies this season to keep an eye on, you know, and—”
“I’m not interested in ladies, Charlotte, eligible or not,” Corin cut her off bluntly, refusing to rise to the bait.
He knew what his aunt thought of his matrimonial state; Lord knew she didn’t bandy about words frivolously.
“Oh, are you interested in men then?” Charlotte teased, her voice so low it might well have been a whisper.
Corin almost choked on air, his breath wheezing in his chest as he turned to look at his cousin with wide eyes. “Charlotte!”
