Page 9 of A Lady’s Rules for Seaside Romance (The Harp & Thistle #3)
Dantes returned to his task. “Look, I know you used to say all the time you would never want a wife, you would never want a family, because you had already raised a family—me and Ollie when we were in Whitechapel—and you didn’t want to do it again.”
Victor clenched his jaw.
“But you know, Vivian pointed out you haven’t said that since her brother died.”
“Don’t be daft,” was all Victor offered. It annoyed him that earlier, he himself had made the same realization.
“I’m not. I’m being sensible.” Dantes took another glass that Victor had handed over, dried it, and set it to the side to be put away with the rest. “You spend a lot of time with Anne, and with Mary and Freddy—when he’s home, anyway.”
Again, Victor kept silent.
The glasses were finished and Dantes crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. “Victor.”
Victor gave his brother a bored look.
“Serious, just for a second. Brother to brother, this stays between us. I won’t say a word to Vivian or Ollie.”
Forcing the ire back down, Victor met his brother’s eye and waited.
“Is there something going on between you and Anne?” Dantes asked this quietly so no one else could overhear.
Victor clenched his teeth so hard, he was sure they would shatter. “No.” Why in the world would Dantes ask this?
Dantes frowned, which was irritating. “Do you want something to happen?”
Victor’s immediate reaction was to deny this, because that was the truth.
But this was a rare moment of Dantes showing genuine concern for Victor.
Thus, he gave his brother the same consideration and briefly contemplated the question.
Anne was beautiful—it would be idiotic to deny it.
Everyone could see she was. Even Billy had mentioned it.
And, fine, yes, she had very nice curves that he, once or twice, had allowed himself to admire for a fraction of a moment here and there, and he wasn’t one who generally admired a woman’s form.
He did enjoy being around Anne, and anytime he saw her, yes, it was the best part of his day. There was always a strange but pleasant sparkling feeling inside of him when he knew he would see her soon.
But this didn’t mean he wanted any romantic ties to her. He had never desired romantic—or physical—ties with anyone before, woman or man. Why would that change with Anne?
Either way, Anne had expressed multiple times she would never remarry.
Not that he wanted that, but he was quite happy with everything exactly the way it was.
Being at the pub every day, his romance-free friendship with Anne, having the same exact day over and over.
It would have sounded boring to his sixteen-year-old self, but now that he was in his forties and had molded his life into something he was pleased with, he didn’t want anything to change.
He wanted his life to stay exactly the way it was, thank you very much.
If he even toyed with the idea of something happening with Anne, which he wouldn’t, it would never be able to go anywhere because of her aversion to marriage. It would end the most important friendship he’d ever had in his life.
No, pursuing anything would do nothing except rip apart a life he was quite content with and did not want to change at all .
“Victor.” Dantes chuckled. “You have been standing there for an entire minute thinking about that question. Any response you’d like to share?”
Victor came back to the present, realizing his major error. “Yes, you’re idiotic. No, I don’t want something to happen with Anne.”
“All right,” Dantes replied simply. “If for some reason you were, you know, on the fence about that. Unsure. This summer would be the perfect time to figure it out once and for all. Don’t you think?”
Victor narrowed his eyes, but as usual kept quiet.
Dantes hesitated but seemed to realize Victor was letting him toy with the idea. “You’d see her every day. For three months. Maybe that would help clarify things?”
It wouldn’t clarify anything, as there was nothing to clarify. But it would be nice to see everyone. Every summer, he was here in London while they were down there in Brighton. Sometimes, he felt a pang or two of envy knowing they lounged about, or whatever it was they did there, while he sweat.
“Anne suggested I go to Brighton this year as well,” Victor admitted.
Was the family conspiring, or was everyone simply tired of him isolating himself?
When Dantes’s eyebrows rose, Victor hurried to the next thought.
“Not because of your ridiculous assertions. But because she thinks it would be a good way for me to reconnect with the aristocracy.”
Dantes frowned. “Why would you do that?”
“Because, very unfortunately, one day, I’ll have to take Fergus’s place.”
“Ah. That is an excellent point. Yes.” Dantes nodded vigorously. “You should absolutely go to Brighton this summer to, erm, ‘reconnect with the aristocracy,’ Lord Victor.” He turned a hand in the air. “And, perhaps, accept the fact you have deep affections for a certain fair-haired lady as well?”
Victor took a dangerous step forward and Dantes jumped back with a laugh, in case a fist flew. “So should I tell Vivian it was this easy to convince you?” Dantes asked.
“No,” Victor replied with a dark voice as he began walking to the end of the bar to get out from behind it. He needed the safety of his office. “You can tell her I will not, under any circumstance, go to Brighton this year or any other year.”