Page 8 of How to Seduce a Duke this Autumn
Adam turned, leading the way out of the study. He didn’t stop until they were in the hallway, its shallow light heightening the undercurrent that hummed between them like a taut string. Once alone, Adam swung to face David, leveling his brother with a glare that carried years of frustration.
“You will not behave like that in front of Mother again,” Adam said, his voice sharp but low. “You should have the decency to show some respect. For Father. For her.”
David shrugged, utterly unfazed. “I don’t see what you’re so angry about. He’s gone. No amount of solemn faces or stiff collars will change that. And she”—he flapped a hand toward the closed study door dismissively, as if their mother were some distant acquaintance rather than the woman who had given them life and now sat drowning in sorrow behind that door—“shouldn’t expect us to wallow along with her. What I need is a distraction, not another sermon about what’s proper.”
Adam’s composure cracked. His hand shot out, grabbing David by the lapel of his coat, and in one swift motion, shoved his twin back against the paneled wall with a force that made David grunt. Adam kept his grip firm, his face close, every feature hardened with fury.
“You think this is about a sermon?” Adam’s words were harsh and pointed. “Do you even hear yourself? Distraction, you said. Is that what Lady Charlene was to you? A distraction when father was on his deathbed?”
Laughter spilled from David’s lips, wild and derisive, his head tilting back briefly against the wood before his eyes locked on Adam’s. “Since when do you care so much about a distraction?” he sneered. Then, with deliberate slowness, he bared his teeth in a twisted smile, tapping the chipped corner of his second incisor with his tongue.
Adam froze, though his grip on David’s coat tightened. The sight of that broken tooth hit him harder than words. Charlene. “She’s not a wench,” Adam ground out, his voice trembling with restrained fury. “She deserved better than you. Better than anything you could ever offer. You had her fooled, David, but not me. She could have given us something precious, aligned ourfamilies, united two great houses. She would have given us her heart, and you tossed it aside like rubbish.”
“She was willing enough most of the time,” David tsked and arched a brow, implying what Adam didn’t believe for a moment about Charlene.
“She’d never… not with you!” Adam snarled.
“Maybe not, but you interrupted us last night!” David gave a laugh that was so sour, it could curdle milk.
“You are rotten to the core,” Adam growled.
David shoved against him, breaking his grip and stepping to the side. He smoothed his rumpled coat, throwing a sidelong glance filled with amusement at Adam, but something darker lurked beneath it. “What would you have done, dear perfect brother of mine? Married her yourself? Be honest.” He leaned closer, tilting his head. “You never saw her as an alliance, did you? You want her completely, don’t you? You’re envious of the fun I had testing her temperament.”
Adam’s fist clenched at his side, but he stayed rooted to the floor, his chest rising and falling unevenly. “More than anything, I want her to be free of men like you,” he said, his voice low, raw with the truth.
David smirked again. “And what makes you think you’re any better than me? We’re brothers. Cross brothers. Two sides of the same coin, duke or not. The same blood that flows through me, flows through you. There’s nothing you can do to get rid of me.”
Adam forced himself not to react, brushing against the signet ring on his finger, the symbol of his new station. When he finally spoke, his tone was ice. “I’m the duke now,” he said, each word measured, deliberate, bearing the weight of his title, his name, his anger. He stepped closer, his eyes locked on David. “Cross brother or not, don’t you dare cross me. In fact, it’s over. You are over. Before the end of the day, I want you gone from England or else I’ll freeze your stipends.” It was the very least he could do forCharlene. That and break off any whisper of an engagement that might have existed between them.
“You can’t do that,” David growled.
Adam took a threatening step forward. “Test me. I dare you.”
“Where would I even go?”
How like his twin. He only cared about himself. Never about anyone else, especially not Charlene. She truly deserved better.
“Anywhere but near us or Charlene. Pack your trunks by the end of the day, brother. You are leaving or I will haul you onto that ship myself. And I will do just that.”
A flicker of something passed over David’s face for the first time. Surprise, perhaps even uncertainty. But he masked it quickly, offering a mocking bow before turning and leaving the hallway.
Adam stayed where he was, his breathing steadying, though the tightness in his chest remained. His fingers curled once more into a fist before finally releasing the tension, staring down the empty hall where his brother had disappeared. The battle between them was far from over. But for now, Adam would do what he’d always done.
Carry the weight.
Stand firm.
And protect what mattered.
*
Present day…
Charlene’s fingers workeddelicately, the small scissors in her hand snipping at the vine of the climbing jasmine as she tilted her head to inspect its stubborn curve. The greenhouse was perfectly damp and just hot enough for the new buds to hopefully open in a day or two. Fortunately, the glass overheadmisted faintly despite the late hour and shielded the delicate new leaves from direct sunlight. Every breath tasted faintly of soil and petals, a sweetness that clung to her senses. She often found solace here amid the neat rows of calming greens and the riot of colorful blooms. But today, even the soft scent of roses failed to soothe the ache lodged deep in her chest.
Her hands paused over a cluster of pale pink blossoms.
Adam’s name had drifted through her mind too many times these past weeks, like a song half-heard but unshakable. It was only natural to wonder on an anniversary of death if one had done the right thing. Should she have gone to the funeral? Were David’s horrid deeds enough to warrant an excuse to stay away? Would she forever feel this discomfort in her breast like a pebble in her shoe, which no amount of shifting could dislodge?
