‘Are you in trouble?’ Ned’s voice was low and steady.
Devlin flashed him an irritated glance and muttered, ‘You and Serena.’ Speaking more firmly, he said, ‘I am not in trouble.’
His brother’s face remained impassive.
Devlin took a gulp of port. ‘I have moved.’
‘Yes?’
‘To a larger place.’
‘You required a larger place?’ A disapproving tone crept into his brother’s speech.
‘It was too good an opportunity to pass up. On the same street, but a much better situation.’
‘And?’ One of Ned’s eyebrows rose.
Devlin took a deep breath. ‘I am short of money as a result. I would ask if you would advance me some additional funds until next quarter.’
His brother did not drop his gaze, nor did his expression change, even a muscle. Devlin knew he was considering, weighing the matter silently in his head.
As a child, this silence had been a comfort. It meant Ned was reckoning a way out of his difficulties. As a man, he was less certain.
His brother stared implacably into his port. ‘How wise was this move?’
‘Devil it, Ned, the move is made. Whether it was wise or not is moot.’
‘You engaged in this impulsively.’ This was not a question but a statement of fact, a disapproved-of fact.
Devlin put his glass down on a table and faced his immovable brother. ‘It is done, Ned, and I need some money to get through to next quarter. Will you give it or not?’
Ned sat in a nearby chair and casually crossed his legs. ‘You have been gambling heavily, little brother.’
Devlin knew that was coming. ‘As your spies have reported? I do not suppose they were present when I won back my losses?’
Ned’s cronies would never have been present at such an unsavoury place as Farley’s. If they had, his brother would be discussing what else Devlin won that night.
‘I have heard your losses to be steep. This gambling must stop, Devlin.’
If his brother had not ordered him to stop gambling, he might have informed Ned that he’d come to the same conclusion. Now he would not give his brother that satisfaction.
‘And what else might I do, Ned? What is there for me to do? The war is over, and I’m damned if I’ll go anywhere else in this world to fight. India? Africa? The West Indies? I’m no longer keen on dying on foreign soil.’
Ned swirled his port and tasted the rich, imported liquid. ‘It is time you took your rightful place in the family.’
‘Rightful place?’ Devlin prowled the room. ‘What the deuce is my rightful place?’
Calmly his brother spoke, ‘You need to assume the control of your estate. It should not fall to our brother Percy, who has enough of his own to oversee.’
‘You know I cannot.’ Devlin glared at him. ‘You and my father saw to that. I cannot take control until I marry. I must subsist on what you obligingly provide me until I marry a suitable woman of whom you approve. Good God! What possessed you and my father to contrive that addle-brained plan?’
‘You know why.’ Ned spoke in the most reasonable voice possible. ‘You lack control. You have always been devil-may-care. Father had the wisdom to know you would cease your wild ways when you had another person dependent upon you. A wife.’
‘Damn it, Ned, would you have me marry merely to get my fortune? Would you have married under that fancy bit of blackmail?’
At least Devlin had the satisfaction of seeing his brother betray emotion. Ned’s cheek twitched. ‘Leave Serena out of this.’
Devlin felt a pang of guilt for speaking of his brother’s marriage. He never knew for certain if his brother loved Serena, though he suspected she loved Ned. When he saw Ned and Serena together, there was such a reserve between them, who could tell? Had Ned married her out of duty? Pity Serena, if he had. Their father was behind the match, of course, and Ned would never have gone against their father’s wishes. Two peas in a pod, his brother and father.
‘I am not speaking of Serena,’ he said more mildly. ‘I am speaking of myself. I have no desire to marry at the moment, but I am more than ready to assume control of my property. Indeed, I long to run it. Let me take the task from Percy and work the farm. I do not give a damn if the rest of the money is under your thumb.’
It would be an ideal solution. Bart and Sophie would fit in neatly on the estate. Madeleine and Linette would be a bit more difficult to situate, but he was sure he could contrive something.
Ned regained his damned composure. ‘Doing so would deprive you of an opportunity to make an advantageous match. The Season has begun and there are all manner of eligible young ladies from whom you may choose.’
Devlin clenched his fist. ‘I have no desire to marry.’
Ned rose and walked to the desk by the window. He fussed with papers stacked there, glancing through them, and re-stacking them. Devlin would have liked to think his brother was considering his proposal, but he suspected Ned was simply showing him who was head of the family.
Ned did not look up from the papers when he spoke. ‘Our father’s wishes will continue to be honoured. You will receive your allotted portion on the quarter, not before. When you marry an acceptable young lady, your estate and your fortune will pass to you, and I will have no more to say of it.’
Devlin leaned down, putting both hands on the desk, forcing his brother to meet his eyes. ‘Both you and Father were mistaken, Ned. You could at least let me work. As it is, you and our dear departed father have deprived me of any responsibility at all and have kept me as dependent as if I were still a schoolboy. Had I something of value to do, I might have reason to be steady. As it is, I have nothing.’
‘You will have everything you desire if you marry.’ Ned spoke through clenched teeth.
‘But I do not wish to marry.’
The two men glared at each other.
Devlin swung away from his brother. ‘You and Father never trusted me to find my own way. You knew, did you not, that he almost refused to purchase my colours?’ He fingered one of the volumes on the shelf. ‘I would have enlisted as a common foot soldier had he done so. Father could not force me to do anything and neither can you, Ned.’
‘You are being foolish, Devlin. This is for your own good. You have always been too wild by half and too wilful to behave with any sense.’
‘You dare to say such a thing to me? Do you forget what I have been doing these past years? Do you think I have been on a lark?’
The Marquess stood. ‘I know it killed our father to have you traipsing all over the continent risking your neck.’
Devlin
