Lady Bentley frowned, her jaw jutting out. “You’re bloody right, he could never be cuckolded,” she said fiercely.
Sam’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. He hadn’t ever heard Lady Bentley swear before.
“Don’t disrespect me or your father, Felix Percival Jennings. This was the best decision for our family. Both our families. We do not live a life where we can do as we please, marry who we please. Duty comes first. Always. I know you know this. I know youunderstandthis.”
She glared at her son, and Sam took a small step back at the power in that mother’s scold. “And you will apologize to your brother right now. Because he was ablessing. Malcolm never thought he’d have a child of his own, and he was willing to sacrifice that for me. So, when we found out, he, Freddy, and I came up with a plan. A child is always something to be celebrated. And right now, you are making your brother feel unwanted. Like he’s a shame to us.”
Felix glanced at Mr. Campbell, who looked like he wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. “I’m—Weston, Christ, I’m sorry. My reaction—I’m struggling to process here. I don’t—” He looked back at his mother. “You hid him from us.”
Sam’s heart withered at the pain etched in Felix’s tone. That was the crux of it, then. Felix was shocked to find he had another brother, but more than anything, he was hurt he hadn’t known; that his parents hadn’t told him.
“Were you ever going to tell us?” Felix’s voice cracked. “And Weston knew?” His gaze darted to his brother quickly and back. “I’m guessing by his reaction right now, he knew. Knew we were his siblings. Yet never got to be a part of our family.”
Lady Bentley reached for her son’s hand, but he flinched and stepped back. She inhaled an unsteady breath. “Yes, Weston has always known. And yes, at some point, I had every intention of telling you,” she said quietly.
“When? When, Mother?” He swore, his eyes squeezing shut. His body vibrated with choked-back emotion. His eyes flew open, revealing shattered amber irises. “I need—” He swallowed hard, and when he spoke again, it was the Earl of Bentley, the facade. “If you’ll please excuse me. I need a moment to myself.” He stepped around his mother and strode from the room, white-knuckled fists balled at his sides.
Silence fell over the room, a thick, uncomfortable silence. Sam slowly backed away. Very aware he did not belong in this room right now. “I…”
“Go, Samuel,” Lady Bentley said softly. “Please ensure he is all right.”
Sam nodded jerkily and quickly set off in search of Felix.
43
Felix
Felixattackedhiscravat.His chest heaved. He couldn’t fucking breathe. The god-damned bloody neckcloth was strangling him. If he could just remove it, he’d be fine. Everything would be better.
His fingers fumbled over the fabric, shaking too much to grip around the knot. He braced a hand on the wall next to his dressing table and rested his forehead against the cool plaster. He sucked in a gasping breath and slammed his eyes shut tight.
“Felix?” A low whisper came from behind him.
He turned, rolling so his back sagged against the wall. He looked up at Sam, found those familiar grey eyes. Latched onto them desperately. Like they could prevent him from falling apart.
“Can you please get me out of this thing?” he choked out, his voice small and pathetically pleading.
Sure, steady fingers made quick work of his cravat and…Felix still couldn’t breathe properly. “God fucking damn it.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his sternum. “Why can’t I breathe?”
The soft kid leather of Sam’s gloves slid against Felix’s cheeks. “Look at me, Fee.”
Felix’s eyes snapped open, locking on Sam.
“Good. Now, you’re going to breathe with me, all right?” Sam’s black brows rose expectantly.
Felix dipped his chin.
“In through your nose.”
Sam drew in a slow, long breath.
Felix mimicked him, his jerky.
“Out,” Sam murmured, exhaling on a softwhooosh.
His thumbs gently massaged Felix’s cheekbones, and something eased slightly inside Felix.
“That was so good, Fee,” he said, voice warm. “Can you do it again for me?”
