Page 11

E dith, the Dowager Duchess, sat with regal poise in one of the deep armchairs, her eyes resting thoughtfully on her eldest son, Ambrose. Across from her, Richard leaned against the mantelpiece, his gaze occasionally drifting toward his brother.

The evening had grown quiet, the sounds of the household fading as the servants retired for the night.

"Ambrose," Edith began, breaking the silence, "we need to discuss something of importance."

Ambrose, who had been quietly perusing a book, looked up, his expression unreadable. "Mother, I've told you before, I'm not interested in discussing marriage."

After all, he knew his mother well. Well enough to know exactly what she wished to discuss with him.

Edith sighed, though there was no surprise in her features. "You are not growing any younger, my son. The dukedom needs an heir, and you have yet even to consider looking for a wife."

"Mother, I am not interested..."

Edith folded her hands, her expression unwavering. "Not interested, or simply avoiding it? You have responsibilities, Ambrose. Not just to the title, but to the family. Your brother should not be expected to be married before you."

Richard, seated in an armchair nearby, glanced up from the book he had been pretending to read. His brow furrowed slightly, but he remained silent, knowing this conversation wasn't new.

"Richard will have an heir of his own in time. The line will continue, and the estate will be secure."

Richard's grip tightened on the book, his discomfort growing. "I'm not the Duke, Ambrose. That's your duty, not mine."

Edith's lips pressed into a thin line. "Your brother is right. It is not his burden to bear."

Ambrose let out a frustrated breath, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. "I've done everything else for this family, haven't I? Managed the estates, kept our reputation intact. Is that not enough?"

Edith's eyes softened slightly, though her resolve remained firm. "You've been a fine duke, Ambrose. No one is questioning that. But there's more to it than land and reputation. You need to think about the future."

"The future?" Bitterness threatened to spill over in his voice. Had he not done enough for the family? He had been the proverbial head of the family since he was fourteen – surely they could give him some room to breathe when it came to a decision as grand as marriage.

Still, he was not one to be moody around his family and therefore, he collected himself. Getting angry at them would serve no one.

"Yes, I mean – how long do you expect to go without a family of your own?" Edith countered.

"I have the both of you," Ambrose replied, pointedly.

"Mother, I think it's best if you do not pressure him," Richard spoke up. "We both know that Ambrose cannot be persuaded if he does not wish to be."

Edith sighed. "Ah, for he inherited his father's stubbornness..."

At the mention of their father, a flicker of discomfort passed over Ambrose's face.

His jaw tightened imperceptibly, and a strange tension settled in the room.

Though he was careful not to show it outwardly, the mention of their father always dredged up memories he preferred to leave buried.

Memories of a man who had shouldered the weight of the dukedom with the same cold sense of duty Ambrose had inherited, a man whose approval Ambrose had never quite earned, no matter how hard he tried.

Ambrose shifted in his chair, straightening his back and clearing his throat. "Let's not make this about me," he said quickly, his tone edged with finality. "Richard, we should be discussing your future. You've been courting Lady Daphne for some time now, haven't you?"

The sudden change in topic was obvious, but neither Edith nor Richard commented on it. Richard, however, bristled slightly at the direction the conversation was taking.

"I don't see how this concerns you, Ambrose," Richard said, his brow furrowing. "My courtship with Daphne is going well."

"Is it?" Ambrose asked, "From where I'm standing, it looks more like a fleeting infatuation than anything serious."

Richard's eyes narrowed, the growing tension between the brothers palpable. "Daphne is more than capable of being the duchess you expect her to be."

Ambrose raised an eyebrow, his skepticism plain. "Daphne is impulsive and reckless. She may have her charms, but she lacks the discipline and decorum necessary to fulfill the duties of a duchess. You know that, Richard."

Edith, who had been observing the exchange closely, sighed again. "Ambrose is right, Richard. Lady Daphne may be sweet, but she is not... suited to the responsibilities that come with being part of our family."

Richard shook his head, his expression hardening. "It wouldn't hurt to give Daphne a fair chance, brother. You seem particularly pre-disposed to disliking her."

Daphne's face flashed in the Duke's mind. He did not know what it was about that girl, but somehow, he knew exactly how to get a reaction out of him. A rare thing, of course.

"A fair chance, Richard? Is that what you call it? I thought I'd been more than generous by tolerating her presence at all," he sneered.

Richard bristled, his fists clenching as he leaned forward. "Tolerating her? You've done nothing but criticize her since the moment you laid eyes on her."

"Oh, forgive me for not falling at her feet after she nearly tripped into the lake. Quite the first impression, I must say."

Richard's eyes flashed with anger. "She's more than capable, Ambrose. You've hardly spoken to her, yet you sit there on your high horse, acting like you know everything about her."

Ambrose smirked, turning fully toward Richard, folding his arms over his chest. "And I'm sure you've had lengthy, profound conversations about the intricacies of estate management and social decorum, haven't you?

Or do your discussions consist mostly of compliments on her gown and which flowers look prettiest in her hair? "

"You're impossible! You act as if you're the only one who understands responsibility. As if you're the only one who knows what's best for everyone."

Ambrose's smirk deepened, his tone smooth and condescending. "Well, someone has to, Richard. And since you seem so utterly bewitched by a woman who can barely manage polite conversation without spilling tea, I'd say I'm doing you a favor."

"You think you're so much better than everyone else, don't you?" Richard's anger flared. "For the umpteenth time, I want you to get this through your head – you do not get to control my life."

Ambrose didn't flinch, instead emanating quiet, self-assured confidence. "I'm not trying to control your life, Richard. I'm merely pointing out that your infatuation with Daphne is clouding your judgment. Someone has to think clearly around here, and we both know it isn't you."

"Daphne is more than a fleeting infatuation! You simply do not know her."

Ambrose cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Really, Richard? What exactly has she done that's so impressive? Aside from falling into your arms every time she gets flustered, of course."

Richard's eyes narrowed, his voice dripping with sarcasm now. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize we all had to be cold, emotionless statues to meet your high standards. Maybe if she frowned more, she'd have your approval."

"Emotion has its place. But I'm afraid Daphne operates purely on it. She's reckless. Unpredictable. Hardly qualities befitting someone to marry into our family..." Ambrose sparred.

"She is trying, " Richard pressed, his fists now balled up against his sides. The tension in the room was rising by the second, and it would only take a small spark to ignite a fire that would not be so easy to put out.

"My dearest brother, just because someone is ‘trying' doesn't mean they're suitable. This isn't a game. This is our family's future. You don't just marry someone because they're charming at a few balls."

"You're so afraid of being vulnerable that you wouldn't recognize a genuine connection if it hit you in the face. Daphne may not be perfect, but at least she's real."

Up until this point, Richard had not been able to get through to Ambrose. His words simply ricocheted off his hardened exterior, but this one stung.

"I'm trying to save you from a lifetime of regret. Marrying Daphne would be a mistake—a very costly one."

Before Richard could respond, Edith stood up, her voice cutting through the thick tension between them. "That's enough!"

Both brothers turned toward their mother, who was now standing between them, her expression stern but weary.

"Ambrose, Richard, I won't have you tearing each other apart over this," Edith said firmly, her tone brokering no argument. "You're brothers, not enemies. This constant bickering helps no one."

Ambrose's gaze lingered on Richard for a moment longer before he stepped back, his expression neutral once again. "I'm merely pointing out the obvious, Mother.

Richard glared at his brother but kept his mouth shut.

Edith let out a deep sigh, clearly exhausted by the ongoing tension between her sons. "Ambrose, you've made your point. And Richard, I understand how you feel about Daphne. But this... hostility between you two is unacceptable."

"I suppose we'll just have to see how long that conviction lasts, won't we?" Ambrose smirked in his brother's direction.

"There may be a way to settle this without all this bickering," Edith suggested, suddenly perking up.

Both brothers shared a weary look.

"And what do you propose, Mother? I doubt Richard and I are going to suddenly see eye to eye over dinner and drinks," Ambrose remarked, pointedly.

Richard let out a snort, clearly not in the mood for Ambrose's sardonic remarks, but Edith remained focused. "A house party."

"A house party?" Ambrose echoed, folding his arms over his chest. "You think a few days of forced pleasantries will make any difference?"

"If we host a house party, everyone will have time to get to know each other better—without the pressures of the typical social gatherings.

A more relaxed setting where true personalities can emerge.

It will give Richard the clarity he needs, and perhaps even you, Ambrose, will see her in a different light. "

Ambrose scoffed quietly. "I highly doubt that."

Edith turned to Richard, her voice gentle. "You've been defending Daphne, but even you must admit that it's still early in your courtship. There's no harm in seeing how she fares in a more intimate setting."

"I don't need a house party to see who Daphne is, Mother. I already know," Richard resisted.

"And yet," Edith continued, "it would give you both time to see each other more clearly. Without the constant eyes of society watching your every move. You may find she's exactly as you think, or... you may discover something you hadn't noticed before."

Ambrose shook his head. "A house party would accomplish nothing except giving me a headache."

Edith smiled slightly at her eldest son. "That may be true, but it will also give you the opportunity to spend time with other guests. Perhaps even find someone more suited to your... exacting standards."

"Mother, not this again," he groaned. "We just went over this." She had always been skilled at getting what she wanted, and Ambrose knew he was being cornered.

"A mother can dream," Edith continued. "And whether you like it or not, the dukedom still requires an heir."

Ambrose clenched his jaw, his mind racing.

The thought of hosting a house party filled with eligible young women—each one likely trying to impress him—made his stomach turn.

But worse than that was the idea of seeing Daphne every single day, watching her charm Richard with her impulsive nature and careless laughter.

The mere thought made his head ache.

"I see," he muttered, his voice tight. "You plan to parade potential wives in front of me like livestock. How delightful."

Edith shook her head. "Must you make it sound so crass? It is only the natural order of things – finding and selecting a companion for yourself."

There was no way this house party would end without some form of conflict, that much was certain. But he did not wish to disappoint his mother much either.

It was a losing battle.

Ambrose sighed, rubbing his temples. "Fine," he said finally, his tone reluctant. "But don't expect miracles, Mother. I highly doubt this will change anything."

"Splendid," Edith said, a renewed bounce to her tone. "It is settled then. I shall send out the invitations at the earliest. We'll invite some close friends and a few families who might make good matches."

Richard, though still wary, nodded slowly. "I agree to this as well. If it will give everyone more time... then perhaps it's worth it."

As Edith left the room, hurrying to make the preparations, Ambrose turned to his younger brother.

"Spending several days in close quarters with Lady Daphne is exactly how I imagined my time. I can hardly wait..." his voice dripped with sarcasm.

Richard glared at him. "You might actually learn something about her if you opened your mind for once."

Ambrose smirked, his voice low. "Or, I might just lose what's left of my sanity."

He couldn't shake the feeling that this house party was about to bring far more chaos into his life than he was prepared for.

This woman is going to make me lose my mind.