“You are the one who accepted Lottie’s invitation.” Alexander made his way to Matthew’s side, and they began to move in unison to the deeper recesses of the house. Matthew could hear a mixture of polished male and female voices drifting into the hallway from another set of open doors. Obviously, Alexander had been waiting for Matthew before entering the domain of his mother, the formidable Duchess of Falcondale.
“I am still not entirely sure how it happened. One minute, I was sitting next to your sister at the Black Sheep, and the next, I was pledging to come this Wednesday,” Matthew explained.
“And you oh-so-kindly invited me along.” Alexander sighed, patently making the sound as laborious as possible. He winked at Matthew to demonstrate no actual ill will, but Matthew felt a trickle of guilt. He wasn’t the only one who’d grown up as an outsider in his own home.
“I do thank you for the support. I know you’re not fond of these events either.”
Alexander shrugged and straightened the right cuff of his coat as he paused before the threshold of the parlor. “When Lottie plays hostess, the salons aren’t so awful. If Mother is not chieflyin charge of managing the flow of conversation, she is much less inclined to shoot daggers in my direction when the thumping of my cane interrupts the discourse.”
Before Matthew could respond, Alexander resumed his uneven stride and burst into the drawing room like a conquering Julius Caesar entering Gaul. Matthew followed quietly, preferring not to draw any attention to his own arrival.
The semicircular room reminded Matthew of the famous Raphael fresco of Aristotle and Plato at the School of Athens, a resemblance that he assumed was intentional on the part of the Duchess of Falcondale. The large central back window was deeply recessed, giving the appearance of an impressive arch. A raised section of flooring by the outer wall formed a dais reached by broad, terraced steps. Bathed in light, both natural and that of her own making, Lady Charlotte sat in the middle of the Grecian backdrop where her mother usually held court.
Matthew felt not just blinded but seared from the inside out. Swallowing, he realized he’d been wrong earlier to compare Lady Charlotte to a mere oracle. She was the very goddess of knowledge. Even her ethereal white gown seemed inspired by the togas of old, the silk flowing around her like a waterfall frozen in time.
Perfection. Both the Duke of Falcondale and his duchess demanded it. Matthew knew all too well what that quest had cost Alexander—still cost his friend. But he had never considered what toll it eked from Lady Charlotte to become this radiant deity. Because now Matthew had seen her shine on her own terms in the back room of the Black Sheep—a realm she, not her parents, had shaped.
Looking at her, he could observe the faintest differences. Her pink lips were pressed just a hair or two against each other, while the skin around her emerald-green eyes appeared ever so slightly pinched. Most people wouldn’t notice, but Matthew had alwaysbeen observant… a fact that had both saved him and rained trouble down upon his head.
Taking a fortifying breath, Matthew began walking toward Lady Charlotte, who had just been joined by Alexander. But before he’d managed two steps, a crawling sensation slithered up and down his neck at the sound of an all-too familiar drawl.
“Be glad you moved forward or I wouldn’t have seen you. Wouldn’t want to accidently step on you, now would I, Mat?”
Old, arctic emotions crashed down upon Matthew, but he wouldn’t let them drown—or freeze—him this time. He was no longer a scrawny, scared child, but a man, one who hadn’t just traveled the world but explored it. He’d stalked wolves and bears in the Colonies just to learn the fearsome beasts’ secrets.
“Hawley,” Matthew said stiffly as he turned to face his eldest brother. During their months apart, the viscount hadn’t changed. Despite his life of dissolution, Hawley looked remarkably hale and still miraculously free of the pox. The viscount might enjoy an overabundance of drink washed down with an imprudent amount of laudanum, but he also relished the sporting life, especially anything involving his fists.
“Mat.” Hawley’s aristocratic lips quirked into a smirk as he finished speaking.
Against Matthew’s will, he flinched at the old epithet. It had little to do with it being a diminutive of his given name and everything to do with how his siblings had viewed him: a doormat.
“I didn’t think literary salons were to your liking.” Matthew smiled ever so politely as he stiffened his shoulders, knowing Hawley expected a quivering retreat, not poise. But his older brother wouldn’t find Matthew to be the lad he’d run roughshod over. Matthew was determined to protect not just Lady Charlotte, but anyone who became Hawley’s prey.
“They’re not,” Hawley said shortly, his gray eyes burning likethe center of a hot flame, “but it’s been ages since I’ve watched you play the court jester.”
“I’m afraid I’ve left my cap and bells at home,” Matthew said pleasantly, wishing the schoolboy taunt didn’t cause his already twisting insides to knot upon themselves. At least this time, he wasn’t displaying his emotions for Hawley to feast upon.
“You don’t need a fool’s hat to be my marionette, little brother.” Hawley leaned close to Matthew, but took no care to lower his voice. “I know how to pull your strings.”
“Did you come here just to insult me with mixed metaphors? You must lead a rather dull life then,” Matthew said, keeping his voice light, although he was purposely prodding Hawley. Matthew wanted to learn his brother’s exact intentions toward Lady Charlotte. Did he want the union as much as their father did? The more interest Hawley had in the lady, the more peril she faced.
Hawley smiled. It was not a kind one, not that the reprobate possessed one of those. “Hardly, Mat. You’re like a half-forgotten ball from childhood. Amusing to bat about from time to time but not that interesting. Lady Charlotte is the true reason that I roused myself from bed rather than enjoying a long lie-in.”
Matthew preferred to avoid direct conflict, but his fingers involuntarily clenched into a fist. An old sense of guilt settled in Matthew’s gut. He may have escaped his brother’s abuse, but others still suffered his cruelty. He’d tried so hard to find proof of Hawley’s murderous tendencies, but the monster had both the means and the cunning to erase his villainy.
Hawley clearly noticed Matthew’s balled hand and gave a laugh. The ugly sound of it skittered along Matthew’s flesh as old memories flooded him. The viscount had made that same guffaw when he’d torn off the wings of butterflies that Matthew had been peacefully observing. Their middle brother had held Matthew down and forced him to watch.
Hawley was always attracted to pretty things… and he also enjoyed destroying them.
“I suppose our sire hasn’t explained his plans to you yet.” Hawley had sped up the unnaturally slow cadence of his voice, and Matthew could hear the sizzle of unholy excitement in the less-measured tempo. Hawley waited a beat or two, and when Matthew did not speak, the viscount chuckled again. “Oh, that’s right. Father tells you nothing. He’s always considered you odd. Whenever he is in his cups, he blathers about how you are a fairy changeling.”
Matthew refused to clench his jaw. “Father is often soused, and his otherworldly theory is hardly a safely guarded secret, even if it has no basis in the actual natural order.”
“I agree that Father’s beliefs belong in a time long past. He is hardly the example of modern enlightenment, but occasionally his old-fashioned ideas have their merits.”
Hawley using the wordsmodernandenlightenmentmight have amused Matthew, if he didn’t realize that his brother was alluding to his upcoming arranged marriage. Matthew could feel nothing but an intense—almost rage-like—need to stop Hawley once and for all.
“I wouldn’t know, as the duke is not keen on sharing his insights with me, which you were quick to point out only a moment ago.” Matthew shoved his emotions deep inside and kept an outward calm as he pretended ignorance. It would do Lady Charlotte no good if Hawley realized that Matthew had any connection to her beyond being friends with her twin.
