Page 42

Story: Duke of Gluttony

The man approached with a confident stride that seemed at odds with his humble attire. As he reached the table, he cleared his throat far too loudly for the hushed confines of White’s breakfast room.

“Summons from the Court of Chancery,” the man announced in a carrying voice. “By order of the Right Honourable the Lord Chancellor, to hear the petition of Baron Frederic Hollan regarding the guardianship of the minors, Heather and Mary Ann Redchester, served upon His Grace, the Duke of Eyron.”

The room froze. Every head turned toward Graham’s corner as the man placed a sealed document directly on Graham’s untouched toast.

Elias went absolutely still, his usual joviality vanishing in an instant. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

The messenger merely inclined his head, his expression faintly smug. “Court business, sir. Properly served.”

Frederic Hollan. The name burned in Graham’s mind.

I should have known he wouldn’t give up so easily.

Several members had risen from their tables, necks craning to witness this unprecedented breach of club etiquette.

“This is outrageous,” Elias snapped, rising to his feet. “Phillips! This man is to be removed immediately.”

Two footmen materialized instantly, flanking the messenger with stern expressions.

“Sir, I must ask you to leave,” one said firmly. “This is a private establishment.”

The man shrugged. “I’ve delivered my message,” he said, eyes fixed on Graham.

Graham didn’t even look at the man as the footmen frog-marched him out of the room. His hands did not shake as he picked up the envelope and broke the seal. It was always that way. When it mattered, his hands were steady as oaks.

He scanned the contents. Frederic had filed for full custody of the twins, citing “moral unfitness of the household” and specifically naming Abigail’s “notorious reputation” as grounds for removal. The words blurred on the page.

He set the letter next to the plate, straightening it to be even with the table. The spoon had fallen off the saucer. He put it back in its place, never raising his gaze.

Phillips arrived, red-faced and apologetic. “Your Grace—Dr. Redchester—I cannot express my profound regret for this intrusion. I assure you, the matter will be thoroughly investigated.”

Graham didn’t answer.If he did, the words might come out all wrong—too sharp, too loud. And this was not the battlefield. Not the hold of a frigate. Not a moment of blood and thunder.

“See that it is,” Elias replied when Graham remained silent.

The steward bowed and retreated, still murmuring apologies. Graham folded the summons and slid it into his coat pocket, focusing on the whisper of parchment on silk.

Elias leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table. “Graham. Talk to me.” His tone was low and insistent.

Graham said nothing. Shadows closed on the edges of his mind. Pressure built behind his eyes—hot and tight.

“Redchester.” Elias’ tone shifted to a barked command. “You’re not back in the Balkans. Breathe, man.”

Graham obeyed, exhaling long and slow, managing to grind out the words. “There’s nothing to discuss.”

Elias frowned, disapproving.“I see. We’re pretending again.” He sat back and clasped his hands over his belly, letting the silence stretch. The admiral, the tactician, stared at Graham, waiting.

He would give him no quarter. Not until Graham gave him what he wanted.“Fredric Hollan wants the girls.”

“So I gathered. Frederic Hollan.” Elias mused. “The duchess’ cousin, if I recall correctly. Met him once at a soiree. Peacock-blue waistcoat with gold buttons the size of sovereigns.” He made a face.

Graham’s jaw tightened until his teeth ached. “Second cousin, technically. He’s been scrambling for funds since old Lord Wexham cut his allowance.”

Elias leaned forward. “Why haven’t you mentioned this before?” He waved the question away. “Never mind. Give me the situation in full, or I’ll drag it out of you like it’s your damned debriefing.”

Graham’s shoulders relaxed a fraction as he glared at Elias. The admiral knew how to ground him when his mind went to sea. Graham loved and hated him for it.

“When Helena and Edward died,” he began. The words came out tight. He cleared his throat and pushed on. “Hollan immediately petitioned for guardianship of the twins. The courts refused him since the estate had not been settled.”