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Gilbert drew in a slow breath, bracing his hand on the back of a nearby chair.

“I am well enough,” he said, curtly. “Though I hardly expected you to come rushing home for my sake. What is this about, truly?”

“I did not rush to your side in the past, I know. But the rumors seemed vicious and varied, saying you had been coerced, that you regretted the whole affair, and that you had only wed to placate scandal.” He lifted his head, his brows knitted together. “You swore you would never wed, Gilbert. You have forsaken that vow.”

“You come at this hour to question me about a vow you never cared for before?” he asked sharply, annoyance running through him, then forced a steadier tone. “If you are worried that I shall produce heirs and cut you out of the line, rest assured you remain my heir. But it changes nothing for you in the present.”

“I care nothing for an inheritance,” Leopold told him, his mouth twisted into a grimace. “I came because I realized how much my mistakes have impacted you—my foolishness, that scandal with Lady Diana. I have carried guilt for how it forced your hand.” He exhaled, looking genuinely contrite. “If you turn me away, I shall understand. But I am trying to atone, in whatever way I can.”

Gilbert’s anger ebbed upon hearing Leopold’s confession. “And what changed your heart so suddenly? You fled to the continent after causing chaos, and now you reappear to apologize?”

Leopold spread his hands in a gesture of surrender, his shoulders tensed.

“The rumors I heard were particularly cruel towards you and Lady Diana. I realized if I had done my duty, if I had not left you to shoulder the scandal alone, none of this would have fallen on you. I owe you better.”

Gilbert studied Leopold’s worn features, recalling how carefree—how reckless—his brother used to be. Perhaps his remorse was genuine.

“Then you shall stay,” Gilbert said with a nod. “I will not turn you out. Diana would not wish it, either.”

A trace of relief flickered across Leopold’s face. “Thank you. It means more than you know.” He shifted uneasily. “Yet I must ask, are you truly well? I cannot tell if you have found contentment or if you have buried yourself in yet another obligation.”

Gilbert drew himself upright, tempering his response.

“I chose Diana freely. She was compromised by your actions. But more than that—” He hesitated, the faint memory of Diana’s gentle presence softening his tone. “She means more to me than mere duty, no matter the rumors. I am neither coerced nor regretful.”

Leopold’s shoulders relaxed. “Then I shall rest easier.”

Gilbert let the moment settle. It felt foreign to speak so openly with his brother, and the old tensions still lingered in the air.

“You shall have your old room returned to you,” he said quietly. “I have already asked Hollings to accommodate you.”

Leopold nodded, a flash of gratitude in his expression. “I appreciate it. Truly.”

Though the silence returned, it no longer crackled with sharp hostility. As Gilbert gestured for the footman waiting by the door, Leopold lifted his coat from the chair, his mouth twitching in that old, roguish way, but tempered by earnestness this time.

“If you need me,” Leopold said softly, “I shall be here, willing to help in any way I can.”

Gilbert answered with a brief nod, his mind already turning to Diana waiting for him upstairs and the precarious peace of his household. “We shall talk more in the morning.”

Leopold’s eyes flicked to the door, where a footman hovered.

“Yes. I appreciate that.” He hesitated, as though searching for words. “I never intended for her to be ruined, you know,” he said quietly. “I was… drunk, foolish. I fled because I could not see a solution. I wrongly assumed that you might find another way to dispel the scandal.”

“I indeed found a way,” Gilbert assured him cooly.

Leopold nodded, his lips pressed thin. “I see. I suppose I owe the lady an apology.”

“You owe her more than that,” Gilbert said curtly, then pulled himself together. “But for now, you owe it to both of us not to stir up new trouble.”

A footman edged forward, clearly waiting for an order to usher Leopold to his suite. Gilbert gave a curt nod, dismissing him with a glance. “Tomorrow, we talk. Tonight, you may refresh yourself. Good evening.”

Leopold bowed with a semblance of politeness. “Good evening, brother.” He turned, following the footman into the corridor.

Gilbert watched him go, tension throbbing at his temples. He wanted to believe that Leopold had returned a changed man, but his years of experience reminded him to keep his expectations low.

With a deep sigh, he exited the parlor. In the foyer, Hollings directed Leopold up the stairs, and from the corner of his vision, Gilbert caught sight of Diana hovering near the corridor wearing a worried expression.

Leopold nodded to Hollings and started toward the stairs, passing Diana with a half-nod, half-bow.