“Understand his reasons? I do.” Michael ran a hand through his dark waves—so much more like mine than Hugh’s long strands. With a fortifying breath, he forged on. “And I’m beginning to suspect that you do as well.”
I swallowed, numbness settling into my extremities. “I believe that I do.”
“Tom…” He drew out the word, letting it hang in the silence. His mouth slipped open and he started before aborting the effort. He repeated that effort several times before he finally managed. “Anything you need, or want. Juliet and I… we are here for you. Unconditionally.”
Tears filled my eyes, entirely without permission. But the weight on my chest was gone. The air was thick, nourishing. I could breathe again.
“I— Thank you.”
“There is nothing to thank me for. Jules and I… If it were possible to choose who to fall in love with, I wouldn’t have my wife. But, Tom, you understand the implications of what you’re telling me?”
I shook my head, curls brushing my ears. “There’s nothing to tell. And there’s every chance there never will be. But I just…”
“Wanted to tell someone?”
“Precisely.”
He pressed his lips together in a thin facsimile of a smile. “I’m glad you did.”
“Hugh…”
That gave Michael pause. They’d worked at their relationship in recent years, forming a bond that, while not like the one he and I shared, was respectful. “Hugh has a title. And a son who will inherit that title and all the responsibilities that come with it. He doesn’t have the freedom that comes with vast wealth and a deep loathing of polite society.”
“I know that—I do.”
“Hugh has surprised me before. He could do it again. If you want him to know… You have my support in whatever you decide. To be honest, I might need to explain a few things to him first. He’s still painfully naive.” Michael broke off with an amused chuckle. “I do not know what he’s told you, but ifyourequire a diagram, I’m afraid I’ve no practical advice to give.”
I had no idea what he meant, but he seemed to be laughing at Hugh’s expense, which was usually deserved.
“You’re not planning to tell your mother, are you?” he asked suddenly. “Because that might be the condition to the unconditional support.”
“Are you certain? Because that may actually give her the megrim that kills her.”
“Christ, you’re right. Please tell her.”
I settled back in my chair, matching his laughter with my own.
The hours slippedby in idle chatter, swirled signatures, and topped off drinks. Dawn was just beginning to crest when the door swung open, interrupting the hard-won ease.
“Augie, we’ve discussed this,” Michael chastised with half-hearted irritation.
The man in question strode into the office and gave a performative knock on the desk between Michael and me. My brother, used to such behavior from his second, merely raised a brow.
“We’ve got a problem.”
“A problem without fifty ledgers to sort through? What a delightful turn.”
Augie waved to someone I hadn’t noticed lingering in the doorway. The gentleman was rail thin with clothing so mismatched, even I could see it. The trousers were too short, with shoes too large. Thin arms crossed over a properly fitted shirt, though it was covered with a black-and-white waistcoat several sizes too big. A familiar waistcoat.
My gaze shot to the gentleman’s face. It was then I recognized the heavy—if slightly more delicate than her brother’s—brow of Lady Davina under the outdated powdered wig.
Laughter burst from my chest with no warning.
“Damn it all, I told my wife this would happen. The club is too much temptation.”
Lady Davina huffed. “Oh yes, it’s irresistible. That’s precisely why I’m here.”
“Well, why are you here then, Miss…”
