The color drained out of James’ face. “It’s not fair,” he whispered. “You should never have become the duke.”
“But I am the duke, James. Iamthe duke; haven’t I taken care of you? Haven’t I paid your debts? Didn’t I supplement your meagre income with my own? Didn’t I buy you presents and trinkets and support your ridiculous lifestyle? Wasn’t I a good cousin to you? Didn’t Itry?”
His voice rose on the last sentence. James flinched, glancing away, and closed his eyes.
“But it was not enough,” Tristan finished, his anger suddenly draining away. The blinding rage had receded, and his urge to throw his cousin bodily over the railings had entirely gone. He simply felt empty and disappointed.
“No, I suppose it wasn’t,” James whispered. “I should have been the duke, Tristan.”
“You would have gone bankrupt within two years,” Tristan sighed, shaking his head. “You could never have managed it. I’m sorry, James. A duke has more to think about than money, women, and parties. I have duties. I have tenants, I have workers, I have countless dependents. They call me a devil, to be sure, but if I lived as recklessly as you, I’d die in debtor’s prison. Just as you will if you don’t leave London.”
James’s head snapped up, eyes bulging. “What?”
“You heard me. I cannot prove what your intentions were regarding the dukedom and my life, but I will not forgive you for what you have put Madeline through. Juliana is going to the Americas. I’ll pay for your ticket too if you wish to go. At any rate, if you wish to live your life outside of debtor’s prison, you’ll leave London and won’t return. Don’t let me see your face again,cousin. Your attempts to separate me from my wife have only succeeded in separating me from you.”
He turned to leave, intending to end the conversation here. Behind him, however, he heard James scrabbling to his feet.
“Attempts?” he spat, snarling. “I have notattemptedto separate you from your wife. I have succeeded. I’ve done it, Tristan. She’ll never take you back. She won’t relinquish that baby, and I imagine she’ll flee to the countryside. You won’t find her. You’ll die alone, and one of my children or I will serve as the Duke of Tolford anyway. You’ve lost, Tristan. You’velost.”
Tristan rounded on him, fists clenched. James gave a squeak of alarm, backing away and lifting his arms, fearful of a blow.
Tristan found that he did not want to punch his cousin again. He let his arm drop.
“It turns out that marriage has changed me a little, then,” he murmured. “Once upon a time, I would have beaten you thoroughly for such a comment. The urge and the rage have gone, which I suppose is a good thing. Bad for the heart, rage is. Listen to me carefully now, James. Constables are already on their way here in search of you. Your creditors will soon receive correspondence to indicate that you are all but bankrupt and no longer under my protection. In two hours, constables will arrive at your lodgings. I suggest you get yourself packed up and ready to go within that time, because in a few hours, London will become a very, very inhospitable place for you. Do you understand?”
James had gone entirely white. He stood there for a moment, swaying on his feet, and gave a tiny nod.
Tristan breathed in and out, surprised to find that the rage he’d always relied upon so heavily was not there. In its place, he felt only faintly sad.
I shall miss my cousin. Or rather, I shall miss the man I thought he was.
“Goodbye, James,” he said aloud, and turned on his heel, striding away.
Tristan hired a carriage back home instead of walking. The walking would have cleared his head, but there was really no time to lose. He had to get home and confront Madeline. She would need to hear the whole story of what James and Juliana had planned, and she deserved to listen to the truth about his past, too.
It would not be a pleasant conversation, but it would be necessary.
The journey passed quickly, his head whirling with what had happened. His spies would keep a close eye on James, but there was something defeated in his face that told him that his cousin really would leave town and had finished with his pointless battle to inherit the dukedom.
He could never have done it, though.He could never have been the Duke of Tolford. It would have destroyed him and the estate. I could never get him to understand that. All he saw was injustice.
The carriage came to a rolling stop in front of the house, and Tristan leaped down, tossing money to the cab driver. He hurried up into the house, stripping off his hat and coat.
“The duchess, where is she?” he demanded, throwing his things at the footman. “The nursery? The library? Where, man, where?”
“Oh, Tristan,” came Dorothea’s voice from a nearby doorway.
Dorothea, it seemed, had been crying. Her cheeks were tear-streaked, and she still clutched a damp handkerchief in her hands.
“What is it, Mother?”
She sniffled. “Oh, Tristan. Madeline isgone. She packed up her things, took Adam, and left a couple of hours ago.”
He stood still, feeling almost as if his feet had been rooted to the ground.
“I don’t understand. Gone where?”
“Well, I don’t know, Tristan. I don’t know!”
