Page 17 of Stealing the Rake's Heart
It was one of the spare rooms, done up in grey and the palest shades of blue, all ready to greet a guest. Alex spun around and found himself facing his brother.
“What are you doing, Will?” Alex snapped, yanking his arm free. “You really dug in your fingers.”
“I have just heard that Lord Hamish Grey is here,” William hissed. “Your friend. You invited him.”
Alex flushed. “Yes, that’s true. Mother knows.”
“She knowsnow, because you told her. Why do you think we don’t invite your friends to these balls?”
“Because you hate to see me enjoying myself?”
“Because they are rakes. All of them,” William continued, ignoring his brother altogether. “You’re a rake, but we can’t ignore you because you’re my wretched brother and one of the family. Have you no shred of propriety left, to invite a man like Lord Grey to our family home? You’ve seen the guests staying here. Single ladies, families,respectablepeople. If you must spend time with Lord Hamish Grey outside of this house, that is fine. He can even come to the occasional ball and dinner, if he behaves himself. But this – inviting him here in this matter – this is too much. Can you really not see that?”
Alex could feel colour rising to his cheeks. He hated flushing like a child, but there really was nothing to do about it.
William clearly was angry. His face was white, his lips pinched together, and he had his arms folded tight across his chest.
At least he doesn’t look like Father,Alex thought, and the idea was strangely reassuring.
The late Duke never gave any outward signs of anger. He was almost smooth-faced and composed, only a cruel glint in his eyes giving a hint of awful things to come.
William, on the other hand, had anger written all over his face, almost like a much younger man on the brink of a tantrum. It was almost comical.
At least, itwouldhave been comical, had he not had a point.
“I’m sorry, Will,” Alex said, as honestly as he could. “I… I hardly remember making the invitation.”
“No, because you were in your cups. It’s clear that Lord Grey remembers.”
Alex hung his head. “Yes, yes, alright, if you must hear it. I was drunk when I invited him to stay. I ought to have spoken to mother about it, but I entirely forgot. I didn’t think he would come. And he’ll be on his best behaviour, I promise. I’ll make sure of it.”
William pursed his lips. “Tell me, how did Mother react when you told her?”
Alex frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. Was she angry? Did she roll her eyes? Did she complain, and inform you that there isn’t enough room for any more guests?”
“Well, no, but…”
“What do you think, may I ask, would have happened if Henry did this, or Katherine, or even me?”
“This is your house.”
“Don’t be a fool. Legally, yes, but in our mother’s mind, it will always be hers, and I’m not cruel enough to convince her differently.” William scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re treated entirely different from us, and you truly can’t see it, can you?”
Alex swallowed hard, lifting up his chin. “What is your point, William? I apologised to Mother. She gave her permission for Hamish to stay. I promised that he and I will both behave. What do you want from me?”
William clenched his jaw. A muscle jumped in his cheek.
“Nothing. I want nothing from you, Alex.”
He turned on his heel, reaching for the door. The door flew open just before he could touch it, revealing a footman and Lord Graham Donovan standing in the hall.
“Oh,” the footman stammered, looking confused. “I thought… her Grace said The Grey Room, sir.”
“You are correct,” William said, recovering rapidly. “Do excuse my brother and me. We were having a private conversation.”
“Ah, I see,” Lord Donovan said, an insufferable smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I hate to interrupt.”
