“Pardon?”Edwin turned back toward him.“No?”
Henley frowned.“Is that a difficult word for you?”
Edwin gave a soft chuckle of derision.“No, it’s just—”
“See?You used it in a sentence.You do know its meaning,” Henley interrupted, just to poke the bear.
Edwin set the glass down on the sideboard and came to stand a foot away from Henley.As the taller of the two, Henley stood to his full height to remind Edwin, but where Henley had height, Edwin had broader shoulders.Fleetingly, Henley considered that his brother would make a bloody good boxer.
“You are a thorn in my side.Ever since last year, I have done nothing but attempt to rise above the damage you created for our family.You will not interrupt my courtship of Lady Anna.You will do your damnedest to encourage her to accept my hand—not that it will take any convincing—but you will be on my side.This is not a boxing match, and you can’t dodge my movements; you have to accept them.”Edwin narrowed his eyes.
Henley held back a scoff at his brother’s victimization of himself.Bloody pathetic.Yes, Henley had made a disastrous mess, but he’d also been the one to clean it up, to make amends, to shrink from society so his family wouldn’t suffer—all while Edwin continued his routine visits to the demimonde and liberal use of the family’s Scotch.
“You know, on second thought, I do not think you understand the word,” Henley remarked, forcing a calm focus like he needed before entering the boxing ring.
“What damn word?”Edwin bit out, taking a small step forward.
Henley tipped his chin.“No.”
“Like hell—”
“If you made some semblance of making yourself worthy of her, perhaps I’d consider your words with more weight.But you carouse around all night, and I highly doubt that’s her dream marriage.”Henley stepped back slightly, giving space between him and his brother.
Judging by the smell of whisky on Edwin’s breath, it wasn’t his first drink of the evening, and that could be problematic if Edwin lost his temper.But boundaries had to be established, didn’t they?
“I’m everything she wants.”Edwin tapped his chest, then frowned as he studied Henley.“You… you don’t have a tendre for her, do you?”As Edwin began to laugh, he backed up and grabbed his whisky once more, using his glass as a salute.“Now it all makes sense—the bloody breadcrumb, the way you championed her… I can’t believe it took me this long to see it.”He took another sip.
Henley considered how to answer.He wasn’t about to lie, but he also knew his brother’s competitive nature—it was one they shared—and if he threw down the gauntlet for Lady Anna, Edwin would probably propose within the week just to assure himself of victory.
“She is Pere’s best friend, and you’re already on her shit list for your announcement.If you make her friend miserable, she’ll make your life hell.”
Edwin shrugged.“She already does.It’s no matter.But I still think you’re not telling me everything…”
Henley studied his brother’s expression—the darkening of his eyes, the way his fists clenched, and the squaring of his shoulders.
Damn.He was spoiling for a fight.
“You wouldn’t have a chance with her, you know that, don’t you?Even if I wasn’t actively pursuing her…” Edwin took a few steps forward, then set his glass on a nearby side table.
“Perhaps,” Henley responded, watching his brother’s approach with guarded focus.
He kept his posture open, nonthreatening, unassuming.If his brother decided to throw a facer, he could deflect it—he was certain.
“I know you think you’re better than me,” Edwin whispered, taking another step forward.
“I thought I was the problem,” Henley stated calmly, continuing to watch his brother’s every move, every breath.
“You are,” Edwin replied.“And it’s about time someone reminded you.”Edwin gave his back to Henley, then spun and threw a right hook aimed at Henley’s jaw.
Henley stepped to the side, dodging the blow neatly, and grabbed his brother’s jacket, keeping him from sailing headfirst into a side table holding one of his mother’s crystal vases.
“Easy there.”Henley kept his tone calm, even as Edwin gathered his balance and stood, tugging his jacket into place.
“Bastard.”
“No… brother,” Henley replied, warily watching in case said brother decided to make a similar move again.
“You’re the spare.”Edwin spat the word, pointed to himself.“Heir.”He then jutted his chin at Henley.“Spare—you’re the assurance the title stays and the bearer of our mother’s noble family name and its legacy, which rests with you, unfortunately.I like the idea of you having no title at all, personally.”
