An hour later, I put in the second round of cookies when Duncan entered the kitchen. He hopped up on the kitchen island, almost like an oversized gargoyle.
“Cookies?”
I glared. “Don’t take the piss over cookies, Duncan. They make everything a little more tolerable, don’t they?”
“Did I disagree?” He took a cookie off the cooling rack.
I waited as Duncan took a bite. He nodded.
“Good?”
“Definitely doesn’t hurt, Ella. I’m sorry I’m in a mood.”
“Someone died. It’s okay to be in a mood, Duncan.”
He shrugged. “It’s hard to explain. You must move on. Their lives are dangerous. The fact that anyone ever let Mum do that is beyond me.”
“You never had fantasies of doing it?”
“Of course I did.” Duncan took another cookie. “Who doesn’t want to be like their mum? Especially when their mum is as brave as mine is. Nah. Keir got to be the crash test dummy. I was prohibited. He got all the glory. I looked up to him so much.”
I was surprised. “I thought you two didn’t get along?”
Duncan shrugged. “It’s so complicated, Ella. I dunno. He’s the closest thing I have to a full-fledged big brother. Just like Leah is a big sister to me. She and her sister Charlotte, though, we were never in direct competition for anything. The girls… they weren’t even titled since Uncle Georgie left. Now, Keir was Mum’s presumptive heir for years before I arrived. And they have a very special bond. He idolizes her. And while I was alwayssurrounded by bubble wrap, he was encouraged to be brave. I resent it a lot.”
I popped open the bottle of red from the cellar and poured glasses.
“It’s really about the comparisons, though. Keir has the beautiful young wife, the perfect little family, and he was the war hero. How in the hell does a fuck up like me compete with that?”
I handed Duncan a glass. “First of all, you aren’t a fuck up. You kept the tower running today on a day with interlopers and a day where stress was high. That’s not the work of a fuck up, Duncan. Second, yeah, he has a family, but I gather that someday you will, too.”
“I hope you’re right, Ella,” Duncan said. “All I need is someone like Ingrid to make me look legitimate. Where do I find a blonde, humorous, fecund princess from a country no one has heard of? See any takers?”
I snickered. “When I find her, I’ll introduce you.”
“I’m joking. I would much, much rather spend my days going down on you, if we’re being honest. The idea of marrying a princess doesn’t appeal.”
“Why? Is that not what you’re born and bred for?”
“Oh, Ella, you’ve met me. No. Ingrid and her ilk live for that sort of thing—parties, being perfect whenever on display—and I’m the least likely taker there.”
“Besides what duchy in its right mind would nominate a girl to be yours knowing your record, right?” I joked.
“Hey now, Eloise! You’re being cruel.”
I snickered as the timer beeped. I placed the cookies on top of the oven.
“You have the nicest arse of any woman!” Duncan said.
“Someone died and you want to talk about my arse?”
“It’s life, Ella, but your arse makes it better.”
I rolled my eyes and smacked him with the oven mitt.
“I am sorry for bringing the mood down. I wanted to come home and be in a good mood. I wanted to just spend my time fucking you properly. I’m not quite in the mood and I feel dreadful about that, Eloise.”
“Oh, you’re allowed to have an off day,” I said.
