Phillip kept a tight smile pinned on his face. “Suffice it to say I wasn’t capable of coming forward…until now.”
“Where were you?” Hugh demanded. “Someone must have known you were alive. Clayton, perhaps? Why didn’t he come forward?”
Phillip arched a brow. “May I assume you’re not pleased to see me alive?” He chuckled humorlessly.
Hugh’s only answer was to narrow his eyes on Phillip. He’d always been a hateful boy, and now he was a hateful man. “You do look different. How do I know you’re not an imposter?”
Phillip took a deep breath. Really? Hugh wanted to play this game. “It’s been three years and I’ve been through quite a lot. War will do that to a man. As for proving myself? You used to have a small doll that you carried around with you everywhere when you were a child. Your father made fun of it mercilessly, as I recall.”
Hugh’s eyes narrowed to dark slits, and a mixture of rage and hate radiated from them. “I set that doll on fire.”
“Yes,” Phillip drawled. “One of the many charming things you did as a child. It wasn’t the only thing you set on fire, if I recall. Remember the tree house?” Phillip and Malcolm had made it together in a large oak at their grandfather’s estate. They’d spent all summer building it and when Hugh had come for a visit after it was complete, a mysterious fire destroyed it later that same day.
Hugh’s face turned a mottled purple color. “You cannot prove that I —”
Phillip waved the protest away with his hand and steepled his fingers over his chest. “I have a question for you, and I expect an honest answer.”
Hugh blinked slowly. “What?”
Phillip kept his gaze trained on his cousin’s face. “Of all the ladies in the ton, why did you engage yourself to Miss Payton?”
Hugh shrugged. “Lord Vining introduced her to me. He said she was the catch of the Season. Only the best for the Duke of Harlowe. Not to mention she’s beautiful.”
“Hmm. Lord Vining, eh?” Phillip narrowed his eyes.
“That’s right,” Hugh insisted.
Phillip rubbed his chin. He’d asked his cousin the question to gauge whether Hugh was aware of what Sophie meant to him. Based on his casual reply and the lack of a gleam in his eye, Phillip had his answer. Hugh didn’t know that Phillip had once been in love with Sophie. But it begged the question…what did Lord Vining know about it? If anything? It was far from true that Sophie was the catch of the Season. Why would Vining tell Hugh that?
“You’ve always wanted what you couldn’t have, Hugh. This time, you took my brother’s title and my fiancée. I won’t allow you to take anything else.”
“Your fiancée?” Hugh’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”
Phillip stared at his cousin through the narrow slits his eyes had become. “Before I left, I was nearly betrothed to Miss Payton. Are you saying you didn’t know that?”
“I didn’t!” Hugh moved forward in his chair and tugged on his cravat, an earnest look on his face. He actually looked a bit…frightened.
Phillip believed him. Hugh had always been a rubbish liar. The look on his face told Phillip that no matter Hugh’s crimes, becoming betrothed to Sophie hadn’t been meant to hurt Phillip. But there was one more question he had to ask before he sent this fool on his way. “Do you love her?” He couldn’t help himself. He had to see the truth on his cousin’s face.
Hugh sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, frowning. “What sort of nonsense—?”
“Do you love her?” Phillip repeated in a booming voice that brooked no disobedience.
Hugh rolled his eyes. “Certainly not. I barely know the girl.”
Phillip arched a brow. He had his answer. Hugh clearly didn’t give two whits about Sophie. He’d only wanted her because someone else had instructed him to. That sounded exactly like his cousin. Quite believable. Now to the final details. “I expect you to relinquish all Harlowe properties to me, of course.”
Hugh straightened his shoulders. “I’ll begin removing my things from the town house.”
“Good. I expect you to be out by week’s end,” Phillip drawled.
“Week’s end!” Hugh’s face turned purple again. “That’s not nearly enough time. You must be reasonable. We can discuss this like adults.”
“Week’s end,” Phillip repeated in that same voice that brooked no further discussion. “And I want the ledgers for all the properties and all expenses on my desk here no later than tomorrow morning. Send your man along with them. I intend to take a full account of everything you’ve bought and sold.”
Hugh kept his gaze pinned to the floor. He tugged nervously at his cravat. “There was an auction—”
“Yes, I’m well aware. An auction you instigated,” Phillip drawled.
