Harrison’s face fell. “Don’t you want to see your nephew?”
“I’ve seen my nephew. He’s a dragon. Is there any more I need to know?”
His brother’s mate looked devastated. “But he’s your family.”
“Here.” Everard shoved an iridescent pink whelp into Geoffrey’s arms. “Hold your nephew, Geoff. Perhaps it will help stop you from being such a cantankerous prig.”
Instinctively, Geoffrey stepped away from his study’s sixteenth century Safavid rug, just in case. “Do not widdle on me,” he warned his nephew.
The whelp in his arms looked up at Geoffrey with interest in his myriad-colored eyes.
“Darwin would never eliminate on you,” Harrison cried out, shocked.
“Unless I ask him to,” Everard warned.
“No,” Geoffrey told the baby in his arms. Darwin blinked slowly in some sort of response Geoffrey couldn’t understand, then settled down, curled up, and closed his eyes. “What’s he doing?” Geoffrey asked in alarm.
“Napping,” Harrison said happily. “He likes you. I wish I could take a picture.”
“We’ve been over this, butternut squash,” Everard replied. “No photographs of the whelps. You’re lucky I commissioned that painting.”
“But you said you would if I did that thing. You know, when I—”
Everard coughed very loudly, sparing Geoffrey and Darwin the details of a story that Darwin would be telling his therapist about in another dozen or so years.
While Everard focused on making sure Harrison never,everrepeated the details he’d been about to share, Geoffrey focused on the dragon in his arms and tuned out the chatter for the sake of his sanity. The baby was sweet, he supposed, if he’d been into that sort of thing. In Geoffrey’s fondest fantasies, he’d imagined what raising a clutch—a real clutch—with Ian might be like, but there was no chance of that ever happening. Geoffrey lacked the equipment necessary to carry Ian’s children, so he’d locked his heart up against the idea and decided to focus on their muster of peacocks instead.
Still...
Geoffrey touched one finger to Darwin’s head, and Darwin rumbled out a purr of contentment. This wasn’t terrible, Geoffrey conceded. Perhaps shutting himself off from his family had been the wrong move. He could be a doting uncle. Between Sebastian, Alistair, and Everard progeny, there were more than enough whelps to spoil, and if Reynard caught a clutch thanks to Harrison’s experiment, there would soon be more. Hugh, likely, would be next in their father’s sights, and Geoffrey…
Geoffrey exhaled steadily through his nose.
As always, Geoffrey would pledge his time to the council. As long as he remained the legal counsel for the Amethyst clan, his father would not demand he sire children.
All he had to worry about was Sigric Brand’s intentions for Ian.
Baby Darwin sighed in his sleep, and Geoffrey felt something between a tug and a pang resonate within him. He had a sudden, almost alien vision not of siring a clutch, but of carrying it. The thought was so cruelly impossible that he tried to shove it out of his mind entirely.
His nephew woke and looked up at him again.
“Geoff, are you feeling quite the thing?” Everard asked, mincing no words, as usual. “Because you look awful.”
“Thank you, but yes. I did say I was fine and I stand by the assertion. I am fine. No need to poke or prod me in any way, Everard. Here. I’ve held my nephew and he’s quite nice, not to mention a lovely shade of pink.”
“Orchid,” Harrison pointed out helpfully. “Darwin is orchid. I made the same mistake, too, but Ev assures me that orchid and pink are not the same color.”
“Yes,” Everard agreed. “My child is orchid.”
“I think Darwin’s color is a mix of his Amethyst and Opal heritage. He’s the same hue as his daddy, but several shades lighter, due no doubt to my Opal genes. Hence, orchid. Isn’t that fascinating? I find it fascinating.” Harrison practically vibrated with excitement at the idea of a color wheel of dragons.
As if it mattered. “Please, take your orchid son. I have quite a bit of backlogged work to do.”
Everard frowned. “I don’t believe that all is well with you, brother—you’re prickly even by my standards. I’ll be by next week to check on you.”
Geoffrey covered his eyes with his hand. “Please don’t. I’m fine.”
His brother continued to look skeptical, but he collected his mate, reptile, and child, then left without another word, but with several significant glances. It could have been, Geoffrey supposed, much worse.
