Page 23

O liver paced the length of his study. He had been attempting to review estate ledgers, but his concentration was shattered when he had been interrupted midway by Theodore.

It always comes back to her, he thought grimly.

Joyce. The cause of Theodore's recent moping and the source of yet another family headache.

"Can you stop the frowning, at the very least?" Oliver said, irked by the constant gloom on his younger brother's face.

Theodore's eyes were slightly bloodshot, and Oliver detected the faint scent of brandy on his breath.

"We need to talk," the younger man said.

"By all means." Oliver arched a brow and gestured curtly.

For a moment, Theodore looked unsure where to begin. He raked a hand through his hair.

"I've just come from White's," he began, naming the gentlemen's club, "and they were discussing Joyce. They're calling it the Carter scandal ." He practically spat the words.

Oliver was hardly surprised. He had tried to quell the rumors after the fiasco, but gossip in the ton had its own life.

"Idle tongues will wag. It will die down soon enough, provided no further fuel is added," Oliver offered as advice.

"It's all because of me," Theodore let out a harsh laugh, laced with frustration. "Joyce won't even look at me now."

Oliver's mouth set into a hard line. So that is what this is about.

"Perhaps," he said evenly, "she has good reason."

"Good reason?" Theodore blinked, clearly stung. "Because she's been dragged into scandal? Her name has been tarnished only because of my stupidity." He took a step forward.

"Then perhaps you should have thought twice before breaking into her home," Oliver surmised.

He disliked seeing his brother in such an anguished state, but it was hard for him to sympathize over something that could have been easily avoided.

"She won't see me," Theodore went on, unfazed. The guilt in his voice was heavy. "She dismisses my every attempt to correspond. I love her, and I cannot lose her."

"You should not have involved her in the first place," Oliver asserted again, "This infatuation of yours…"

"It is not an infatuation," Theodore cut in, eyes blazing. "I intend to marry her."

"We have already spoken about this. You will do no such thing," Oliver thundered, losing his temper for a second but then reeling himself back in. He planted his palms on the desk to keep his composure. "I will not allow you to marry Joyce Carter, and that is a final decision from my side."

For a few moments, there was only silence in the room.

"You will not allow it?" Theodore repeated, tone disbelieving. "Since when did I require your permission to choose my wife?"

Oliver straightened to his full height. Even though he was only a few years older than Theodore, he easily towered over him, having inherited their father's tall stature.

"Since our father died and left me responsible for this family's standing and your future," Oliver replied sharply. "Joyce is a widow, older than you by nearly a decade. She's hardly a suitable match for the brother of the Duke of Redhaven."

"Why must I carry on the burden of a title which I do not even possess?" Theodore fired back. There was noticeable hurt in his tone, and he did not look his brother directly in the eyes.

"It would be in your own interest to see this as a positive thing," Oliver reminded him. "Nothing good can come out of you marrying her."

"You think her unworthy?" Theodore asked.

"That is not the word I used," Oliver hesitated.

It was true that Joyce Carter, the widowed Lady Albourne, was family to him, now. If he had not known Alethea, then perhaps he could take more of a stern approach. But he did not wish to insult the woman who was his wife's sister.

"You implied it," Theodore shot back. "She's ‘unsuitable' because she's older? Because she was married before? Or pray tell, do you believe that her heritage is not noble enough?" His hands curled into fists at his sides.

"This is not about pedigree. The circumstances are complicated. She was compromised by our blunder and the ton's gossip spares no one. A marriage now would only stir the pot anew and damage both our families' reputations further," Oliver stated.

" Our blunder, you say. I recall it was my blunder, and you found a tidy solution by marrying Alethea yourself.

Problem solved for the Duke of Redhaven.

" The way he said it dripped with resentment.

"But what of Joyce? She is the one who suffers.

I am ready to do right by her if she'll have me, yet my own brother stands in the way. "

Oliver's chest tightened at the accusation. He had indeed intervened to protect the family name.

"I sympathize with Miss Carter's plight," he said, struggling to maintain an even tone, "but my answer remains no. You are barely five-and-twenty…"

"Old enough to know my own heart," Theodore interjected. "You cannot treat me as though I am a child incapable of making my own decisions."

"And you have your whole life ahead," Oliver continued on, ignoring him. "You ought to find a young lady of appropriate station, make a fresh start away from scandal."

"I do not want a fresh start," Theodore's eyes flashed. "I want Joyce. To impose any other fate on me would be cruel."

Oliver opened his mouth to retort, but Theodore continued on.

"I love her. I love every bit of her and I don't give a damn if it's improper or if she's older. She is the one I want, and the only one." His breath hitched. "Since I am the one who hurt her, I have to make it right."

For a moment, Oliver was taken aback. Theodore had an easy-going approach to his life, and never before had Oliver seen him take such a firm stand for anything.

"If only things were different," Oliver sighed, "I would have commended your boldness. But the fact of the matter remains that she is a widow."

"Do not say that word as though it is a life sentence," Theodore came to her defense again. "

"You need to let her go, Theodore."

Theodore's throat worked as he swallowed hard. "I will not. "

Oliver rounded the desk, frustration boiling over into anger.

"You must, for heaven's sake! Can you not see that pursuing this will only bring more harm? To her, to you, to all of us?"

"The only person harming her now is you, brother," Theodore replied, clipped.

"Mind yourself," Oliver warned in a low growl.

"You hide behind duty and propriety, but have you considered her happiness? Fair, you do not see her someone worthy of a happy life now that she is a widow. But what of my own happiness?" Theodore looked his brother dead in the eye. "Is that of no concern to you as well?"

The accusation felt worse than anything else Theodore had ever said to him before.

"How dare you suggest I care nothing for your happiness," he snarled. "Everything I do and everything I have done has been to protect this family."

"You are not protecting me, brother," Theodore mirrored his tone. "You're smothering me in a manner that is suffocating. I don't need protection from the woman I love."

"I am trying to protect you from ruin!" Oliver thundered back. "And perhaps from a mistake you will regret when this infatuation fades. The years will pass and…"

"It will not fade," Theodore snapped. "You are patronizing me, acting as though you know my heart better than myself."

"If Father were alive…" Oliver started but Theodore cut him off.

"Invoking his name will not bring him back from the dead. He's gone, and you are not him."

Oliver fell abruptly silent. The fight had now escalated to a never before seen degree before. He had always had a gentle relationship with all of his siblings, where respect had been the primary pillar.

"You may be the Duke, but you are not my father. You don't have authority over whom I choose to love, or to wed," Theodore continued on, using the silence only as an opportunity to further his point even more. "I had hoped for your blessing. But if I can't have it, then I will do without."

Oliver's tongue felt glued to the roof of his mouth. He struggled to find words but none came.

"Is that what you have decided?" he asked, simply. He dared not show the hurt that he felt inside. Showing feeling was a sign of weakness, and he had learned if he was to be respected then he had to curb his feelings.

"It is a decision that I have been forced to take," Theodore replied. "I'm sorry you can't understand," he muttered.

Then, with a formal dip of his head, he turned on his heel and strode out of the study, slamming the door behind him. Oliver stood rooted to the spot, his pulse thundering in his ears. He opened his mouth, then shut it.

For once in his life, the Duke of Redhaven was utterly speechless.