Page 5 of Vanquished by a Viscount (Tales from the Brotherhood #3)

Two

T he moment Grayson spotted Charlie from the top of the stairs leading into the front hall, he felt as if he’d been hit square in the chest by a crossbow bolt.

How dare the man poison Hawthorne House with his presence?

And how dare he look so fit and appealing as he did so?

Seven years had only improved Charlie’s appearance.

He had grown into himself. His shoulders seemed broader than before, the line of his jaw firmer, his waist trimmer, and the fit of his breeches?—

Gray snarled at himself and proceeded down the stairs, body stiff with his effort to contain his fury…

and older, hotter emotions he did not wish to think about.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he glared at Charlie with a warning that the false, fickle bastard should keep his distance for the duration of the party, then turned and marched off down the side hall that would take him toward his dear, departed father’s study.

His body felt hot with old emotions and new as he strode down the hall, scowling.

Robert was seated at their father’s desk, poring over some of the household accounting books, as Gray entered.

The blast of healing grief for their father and sympathy for the mantle of responsibility that had fallen on Robert’s shoulders at too young an age momentarily superseded the anguish—no, the anger—of seeing Charlie again.

“Is everything in order?” he asked, going straight to the large desk scattered with accountancy books and household receipts and perching stiffly on its corner. “Do you require assistance with anything?”

Robert finished reading the paper in his hand, put it down, and sighed.

“I need assistance in increasing the estate’s income in order to pay for this party,” he said.

He leaned back in their father’s large, leather chair and rubbed a hand over his face.

Despite Robert being past thirty, he looked like a boy playing at being an earl instead of the man of responsibility he was now.

“You did not need to indulge Barbara by hosting this ridiculous party,” Gray said, unhappy with how sullen he sounded.

Robert widened his eyes and arched one eyebrow at Gray’s grumpiness. “Your tune has changed since the idea was conceived this winter.”

Gray winced and pinched the bridge of his nose, his shoulders hunching. “Forgive me,” he said. “I am out of sorts. You know I love Barbara like a sister and would support you in giving her whatever is necessary to make her happy.”

Even speaking those words filled Gray with uncomfortable feelings of longing and sentimentality…

that swiftly turned to resentment. In another world, another life, Barbara might have been as close to a sister as was possible without the connection of blood.

If Charlie had not wickedly and callously thrown him over, and for no reason that Gray had ever been able to understand, they might have all been as if one united, happy family.

Robert studied Gray intently for a moment before letting out a breath.

“You know Barbara has been restless these last few weeks,” he said, pushing out of his chair and pacing the length of the room as Gray watched him.

“I am well aware that new brides require a period of adjustment to their changed situation in life. I’ve tried everything I can to make that transition as smooth as possible. ”

“I know,” Gray said, pivoting on the corner of the desk to face his brother more fully. “You are a passionate and devoted husband.”

Robert turned back toward Gray in his pacing with a somewhat naughty smirk.

It amused Gray to see his brother happy, but he had no wish whatsoever to learn the details behind that smirk.

Judging from some of the sounds he’d heard coming from behind the door to the earl’s bedroom while walking to his own room late at night, he already knew the answer.

Barbara was as eager between the sheets as her brother had been.

Gray lost his smile at the thought and his anger renewed.

“I recognize the importance of this house party,” Robert went on, not seeing Gray’s change of mood, as he’d paced away again.

“Barbara is the Countess of Felcourt, and as such, it is vital that she establish herself in society. But I am beginning to think that I should have taught her frugality before giving her free rein to purchase whatever was necessary for this event.”

“Her brother should have taught her frugality,” Gray grumbled.

Robert turned back, frowning at him. “You are not planning to use your feud with Broxbourne to ruin Barbara’s grand event, are you?”

Gray’s entire body tightened. He wanted to argue with Robert that Charlie was the one who started it, that Charlie had taken his young, fragile heart and stomped on it.

He wanted to growl that Charlie should stay away from him and that Barbara deserved better than to have an unrepentant scoundrel as a brother.

Instead, he managed to push out a single, bare, “No,” through clenched teeth.

Robert marched back toward him. “I mean it, Grayson. Barbara has too much at stake for you and Broxbourne to go ruining things for her because of an ill-fated love affair seven years ago.”

“The man tore my heart out,” Gray said, standing. “He broke me in ways you could not possibly comprehend.”

Robert nodded sagely. “I cannot understand,” he agreed. “I have not had the misfortune of being crossed in love as you have. But by your vivacious living these last few years, I had assumed your heart has healed.”

Gray clenched his jaw. It was true, he had not let moss grow under his feet after Charlie had thrown him off.

In fact, it could be argued that he had been a bit too liberal with his company after his initial period of mourning.

At first, he’d accepted every offer of intimate companionship that had come his way.

Then, once he’d firmly established the efficacy of carnal activity in making him forget how desperately he missed Charlie in his bed, he’d turned to seeking out as much pleasure as he could.

He'd entered his relationship with Charlie a complete innocent. Since then, he’d become a shameless libertine who most likely knew and had done far more than Charlie could ever dream of.

Not that he had done any of it with Charlie or revenge or one-upmanship in mind.

Not at all.

“I care nothing at all for Broxbourne now,” Gray sniffed, standing and facing his brother. “The man is insignificant to me.”

Robert smirked at him but said nothing.

Unfortunately, that nothing spoke volumes.

Robert clapped a hand on Gray’s shoulder. “I know it is a trial for you to have Hawthorne House filled with strangers for the summer,” he said. “I appreciate your willingness to delay your voyage to Australia in order to assist me and Barbara with the entertaining.”

Gray’s stomach tightened. He’d gone to great expense to book passage on a merchant ship to the other side of the world as soon as he’d heard Charlie would be among the guests at the house party.

He’d been intending to set off again for the Continent since shortly after the wedding, but seeing Charlie during that blessed event had filled him with the desire to get as far away from the wellspring of feeling that had burst from the stone of years of hatred.

And yet, he had not immediately departed.

He’d hovered around Hawthorne House, particularly after the idea of the house party had been hatched.

But he refused to admit it was because he wished to see Charlie again and spend significant time with him.

He did not. Which was why he had purchased his way to Australia.

The whole thing muddled his mind too much if he dwelled on his conflicting actions.

“I have that escape to look forward to,” he said, attempting a smile for his brother. “Nothing Broxbourne can say or do can touch me for long.”

“Indeed,” Robert said. There was something a bit too dry in his voice, a bit too much of a glint in his eyes. It was enough to make Gray wonder if his brother was plotting something.

“We should go greet our guests,” Robert said, turning to head for the hall, gesturing for Gray to come with him. “Although I’m certain Barbara has everyone entertained already.”

Gray chuckled as he and Robert headed up the corridor to the front hall, where they could hear Barbara’s voice chattering away.

Despite her unfortunate brother, Gray liked Barbara very much.

She still had much of youth about her and had yet to develop the gravitas of a countess, but she was lively, intelligent, and amiable.

Robert had done well to woo and win her.

Of course, as soon as the two of them reached the front hall, Gray found himself on alert, searching every corner of the vast entryway for signs of Charlie. He told himself he was glad that the bastard was nowhere in sight.

“There you are,” Barbara said, bursting into a bright smile and rushing toward her husband. “You must come and assist me in greeting our guests. So many of them are already here, and Charlie has just arrived, as Grayson well knows.”

Barbara peeked past Robert’s shoulder to smile coyly at Gray. It was enough to make Grayson roll his eyes, though he restrained himself so as not to offend his sister-in-law. Plots were most definitely circling Hawthorne House that he wanted none of.

“If you will excuse me,” he said, turning as if to march right back down the hall he’d just come from.

“Mr. Hawthorne,” Elias Pettigrew stopped him, leaping away from the young woman who was nearly hanging off him and her mother. “How good to see you again.”

Gray recognized when he was being called to rescue a friend and only stepped to the side to greet Pettigrew instead of rushing off. “Pettigrew,” he said, shaking the man’s hand. “It is a pleasure to welcome you to Hawthorne House.”

“I am very happy to be here,” Pettigrew said.