“Do with that what you will, Your Graces,” Mr. Merlot stated, and tipped his hat toward them.
He turned to walk away, but then something else pinged in Constantine’s mind.
“Wait,” he barked.
Mr. Merlot paused in his steps and turned his head. “Your Grace?”
“You said that you and my brother have hauled ‘precious cargo’. What does that mean? What sort of business is Augustus involved in?”
Mr. Merlot’s smile was slow to form and positively wicked-looking.
“I am afraid that bit of information is far more expensive than the one you just paid for, Your Grace,” he replied. “And I assure you that such a sum is not even in your pockets at the moment. Despite how deep they may be for a duke.”
Constantine gritted his teeth, entirely discomfited by the answer. As Mr. Merlot turned to leave again, he did not stop him. In fact, he wanted to take Elara as far away from him as possible.
Her soft touch upon his shoulder sent a lightning bolt through him, and without a thought, he whirled around and embraced her. She gasped at the sudden closeness, but as he buried his face in her neck and inhaled her heavenly scent, she relaxed and embraced him.
“Constantine,” she whispered softly into his ear. “What is it? The man only had wonderful news for us.”
Despite how her soft voice made his desire for her roar up, he pulled away from her with a quickness, giving her a stern look. Her look of confusion shifted and matched his own expression, and she stepped back from him.
“Do not call me that,” he commanded.
Her brows rose in surprise.
“You prefer I address you formally?”
“No,” he answered hastily. “I just... I hate my name. I dislike it as much as I dislike the man we just met and want to be bothered by neither.”
Elara’s confusion deepened for a moment, but then her beautiful face smoothed into a look of curiosity as she folded her arms across her chest.
“I must admit I did not enjoy his presence either. He knows more than what he is saying, and there is something sinister about him,” she replied. “However, I cannot unfold that mystery at the moment. What I can do, though, is ask why you despise your given name?”
Constantine’s jaw ticked with stress as he closed his eyes and slowly let out a calming breath.
“I think it sounds ridiculous. Who names their children like that? Constantine, Augustus? Constantine, as you know, was the name of one great Roman emperor. It reminds me of the burden I must carry for my family. A burden I am already aware of, as I am the oldest son and already mantled with the heavy title of Duke.”
He let out a bitter laugh as he shook his head.
“However, knowing my parents, that is precisely why they named me as such. They never wanted me to forget the responsibilities I have to carry.”
Elara’s look, to his surprise, shifted to one of compassion.
“It is a heavy burden to be a duke,” she agreed. “I have watched each of my brothers grow cold and commanding upon receiving the title. It was only the love of Bridget that brought Adrian back from that. I cannot begin to fathom what sorts of worries and decisions you must take upon yourselves. Not just for your family, but for an entire Dukedom of people.”
Constantine’s taut muscles relaxed a little, comforted by her understanding.
“It can grow quite wearisome,” he confessed. Feeling his tongue loosened by her show of compassion, he found himself going on. “Though it is smaller, sometimes the protection of the family is a greater task than commanding a dukedom.”
Elara said nothing, but quietly waited for him to continue.
“Augustus was always more spoiled than I,” he said with a weary sigh. “That is not uncommon. Adoration and love are often left for the younger siblings in a noble family. But even as a young boy, Augustus was always getting himself into trouble, and it was always my responsibility to get him out of it. Even when he came into manhood. Before this mess with Evander, I had thought that he was starting to grow, but, as we have taken this journey, I fear he is still the young boy waiting for me to get him out of trouble.”
Constantine looked over his shoulder, toward the direction where Mr. Merlot had left. The man was long gone, but the sense of wariness Constantine had gotten from him still remained.
“The way he said precious cargo… it made me quite uneasy. I have protected my brother for as long as I have been able, but now, now I feel myself wanting to ignore my duty and drop this search.”
He paused, pressing his lips together as his mind whirled with all sorts of thoughts.
