Was it his imagination or did William’s shoulders tense.
“I couldn’t say where Alexander is. He went out last night and hasn’t come home.”
Not the response Henry had hoped for. They were quiet for the last few minutes, taking a sharp turn into the study.
A tea tray was set out already, and the fire was lit.
“This is nice,” Henry commented.
William sat stiffly down on the chair behind his desk, gesturing for Henry to take the chair opposite.
“Two months is a long time,” he said bluntly. “You shouldn’t have left, Henry. Certainly not so quickly after Katherine’s wedding.”
Henry bit the inside of his cheek. “She’s happy enough, isn’t she? Why do I need to stay?”
“Why do you need to stay? Why do you think? We have ten months left on Father’s wretched deadline. Katherine has her inheritance, but I’d quite like mine, too.”
“And what, exactly, does this have to do with me?”
William pressed his lips tight together again, obviously controlling his temper. Henry lounged coolly in the chair, hooking one leg over the arm. He wasn’t going to help him out. None of his siblings knew what it felt like to live in a cage.
Well, perhaps that wasn’t fair. But William and Alexander had always planned to marry one day, and Katherine would have to marry, on account of being a woman and all. Unfair and annoying, but there it was.
However, Henry was the second son, with few prospects and few expectations placed on him, and he’d hoped for a life of freedom. Love and marriage might well come along, but if it didn’t, why would it matter? It wasn’t as if he was going to be the Duke or wanted to be.
“If I choose to renounce my inheritance,” Henry continued, once the silence had become uncomfortable, “whose fault is it of mine? I can make my own way in the world.”
“Really? Because none of your enterprises have flourished so far. I hear that your wine business was a disaster. I have no intention of bankrolling your lifestyle.”
Henry flushed. “I have another promising scheme coming up.”
“You always have another promising scheme. But, no, as you say, it is none of my business if you choose to renounce your inheritance. You and I have never been friends, Henry, but I thought you might have stayed for your siblings.”
“Katherine can take care of herself. Her letters seem very happy, and I think she’s pleased with the match she’s made.”
“She is, but I’m not talking about her,” William leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “Alexander is not going well.”
Henry bit his lower lip hard, tasting copper.
The stipulations and deadlines of their father’s will clearly bothered Alexander. He was an anxious young man at the best of times and had recently taken to dealing with his stress by excessive drinking, occasional gambling, and keeping remarkably poor company. When Henry had left, Alexander had begun to look pale and ill.
A flash of guilt surged through him. Henry swallowed it down as best he could.
“Well, I’m home now,” he said, lightly. William did not smile.
“It remains to be seen whether you’ll be of any use.”
The remark stung, but Henry was careful not to let it show on his face. He grinned instead.
“Careful, Will. You’re starting to sound just like our dear Father.”
William went white and then red in quick succession. There was no telling where the conversation might have gone if the study door hadn’t flung open, admitting Lady Mary Willenshire, the Dowager Duchess of Dunleigh.
“Henry, my darling boy!” the Duchess exclaimed, arms held wide. “I had no idea you’d returned so early. Come kiss your mother.”
Henry got dutifully to his feet, embracing his mother and kissing her powdery cheek.
“You look very well, Henry, although you have caught the sun a little. How was France? Deadly dull, I imagine.”
