Chapter 30

Chapter Thirty

T he ticking of the grandfather clock broke through the eerie silence of Luke’s study. Has it always been so loud? He frowned at the clock over the mountain of paperwork spread before him.

He had arrived at Warren castle several hours ago, and thrown himself into work. Rodger had remained at Emberly, claiming he had some important business to attend to.

“Do not think of that.” Luke muttered.

His voice echoed in the silence around him, mingling with the ticking clock. The sound made a dull, grey line in his mind. How had he not noticed it before?

“The library. That will be better.” He stood up, pulling his papers towards him.

He walked through the halls of the castle, his steps resounding in the silence. The servants were all perfectly orderly, there was not a single thing out of place.

An urge to set a nearby painting askew bubbled up in him, and as he walked past he brushed against it. He felt an instant’s satisfaction, walked a few steps, and then walked back and straightened the painting.

“What is wrong with me?” he sighed.

He moved into the library, carefully laying his papers on the table. Sunlight filled the room, and he could hear the distant sound of birdsong.

He sighed, and picked up one of the documents. His eyes slipped in and out of focus, the line before him seeming to jump around. He had read the same line nearly five times, and still it made no sense to him.

He picked up one of the other stacks of paper. It was numbers. The annual accounts. He nodded, trying not to think about the satisfying grey of the number four as he read over the estate’s profit.

His investments were thriving, he would have enough to easily cover improvements to the houses of his tenant farmers. Perhaps we might buy new livestock. That was good. He made a note of a few changes, settling into a rhythm. The numbers were soothing, predictable and simple.

“Mr. Hunter has had another child. I should send him a gift.” Luke muttered.

He made a point of sending small tokens to his tenants, to mark particularly important milestones in their lives. It felt like the right thing to do, and it added a kind of order to things in his mind. He knew that the gifts were a small expense, but that often they meant a lot to his people.

During hard years, the gifts meant they were not so angry about their hardship. And in good years, well, it allowed them to feel like their efforts were shared.

There was a satisfying symmetry to the whole thing. In his mind, he imagined Mr. Hunter’s cottage, the sound of raucous children’s laughter filling it.

“Just like at Emberly.” He felt a sense of longing wash over him. “The big family. The noise. The children. The wife..”

Someone was humming. What were they humming? He realised it was him. It was a nursery rhyme, one he had heard young Lord Arthur sing to his siblings.

“Luke?” A voice sounded from the doorway, and he turned to see his brother.

Dread filled him. He remembered where his brother had come from, and from his expression, it had gone well. Rodger’s face was the picture of happiness as he strode towards him. Luke swallowed, trying to calm his emotions. What kind of monster am I, that I cannot be happy for my own brother?

“I take it your errand went well?” His voice sounded far away and distant.

“It went exceptionally well.” Rodger beamed at him. “I did exactly as you said. I asked the woman I love to marry me. And she said yes.”

The bottom fell out of his stomach. He turned away from Rodger, unable to look at him. Images of his brother and Emily walking down the aisle together flooded his brain.

He started to shake.

“I thought you would be happy.” Rodger sounded concerned.

“I am happy.” Luke’s voice was strained.

Rodger’s brow creased. “You look as though you are going to be sick.”

Luke clenched his fist, his voice gruff as he said. “I am fine. I am happy for you, brother.”

He turned towards Rodger, and hugged him, even as it felt like his heart was shattering. She chose him. You let her go. You have no right to be upset.

“I thought you would be pleased to know that we have decided to go the traditional route, and have the banns read.” Rodger beamed at him. “In the parish here.”

“How very proper of you.” Luke said numbly.

“It was her idea actually, apparently she has always liked the tradition.” He added in a stage whisper, “If you ask me, I think she has a secret flair for the dramatic.”

“Then it seems you have made a fine choice. Emily will be the perfect wife.” Luke moved towards the decanter of whiskey on the table, and set aside two of the nearby glasses.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady his hands.

“Emily?” Luke could hear the suspicion in his brother’s voice.

Damn. He shook his head, and made a dismissive gesture. “Miss Pembleton.”

He turned to face Rodger, working to keep his face neutral and impassive. He could see the gears turning in his brother’s brain. He cannot know the truth.

“You said Emily.” Rodger moved towards him, his eyes narrowing as he did so. “Not Miss Pembleton, but Emily. Not even… Miss Emily.”

“I did not.” Luke took a sip of his drink, hesitated and then downed it, as he held the second glass out to Rodger.

His brother waved the drink away. “You did, I heard you.”

“You are mistaken brother.” Luke’s hand shook, and he pushed the glass into Rodger’s hand.

“I am not. You said her name.” Rodger nodded, his eyes wide. “I knew it, I knew there was something between you two!”

“There is nothing between us.” She is marrying you. Luke swallowed. “It was a slip of the tongue. That’s all.”

“That is why you were so jovial! So happy and smiley! It was all because of her, was it not?” Rodger’s voice was tinged with excitement.

His tone puzzled Luke. How can he be excited? Does he not realise what this means? She is to be his wife. Unless… No he would not be so cruel. “I have just enjoyed being around such a lively family, that is all.”

“You are rather well suited to family life. I have always imagined you with a large brood of your own, a doting wife.”

“But I have told you I would never marry.”

“Yes, and I have been willing to go along with your nonsense until I saw the way you came alive at Emberly Castle.” “I thought you had never wanted any of that, but clearly I was mistaken. You have simply refused to let yourself want it.”

Luke recoiled, but he could not bring himself to refute his brother’s words. “It is not the path meant for me.”

“Why not? I have never known you breach propriety like this, to use her first name so casually. Do not lie to me brother.” Rodger’s eyes searched Luke’s face. “Do you care for her?”

“I do.” The words released something in Luke, and he turned from Rodger. “But there is no future for us. She has chosen you. And she has chosen well. I wish you both every happiness together.”

“She has not.” His brother’s words caught him off guard.

The roiling in his stomach seemed to abate, the room stopped spinning. She has not. What did it mean?

“Pardon?” Luke paused, frowning and turned back to face him.

“Miss Pembleton has not chosen me.” Rodger was smiling.

How can he smile? Anger flared within Luke, what sick game was his brother playing. “I would never have expected such cruelty from you brother. To hear of my feelings and then rub that she has chosen you in my face. You just said you had asked her to marry you and she said yes. Clearly she has chosen you.”

“I never said Miss Pembleton was the woman I proposed to, you just assumed that.” Rodger folded his arms across his chest, looking smug.

Luke reeled in disbelief, his head spun. He gaped at his brother. Relief washed over him, followed by a spike of exhilaration. She is not going to marry Rodger. “Then… If not her, who?”

“Marie.” Rodger flushed and downed his own glass of whiskey, spluttering as he did so.

As he coughed, Luke thumped him on the back and asked, “But… But how? When?” It was not Emily. He is not marrying Emily.

He felt a hundred times lighter. The vice around his chest was suddenly released. He wanted to laugh, to hug his brother. He continued to rub his brother’s back as he waited for Rodger to stop coughing.

“If you had not been so busy flirting with your dearest Emily, then you might have seen it.” Rodger teased hoarsely.

His words broke through Luke’s temporary elation. Reality hit him like a bag of bricks. He had rejected Emily, pushed her away.

I am not the one determined to push everyone away. The words he had spoken to her. Is that not what he had done? She was willing to be with him. Wanted him, and he had run from her. I am a coward. “I was not… She is not my Emily.”

“Do you want her to be?” Rodger asked, collapsing into a seat.

Luke ran his hand across his jaw as he slumped beside his brother. “I… It does not matter. I cannot be the man she deserves.”

“Why not? What about you is less than she deserves?” His brother narrowed his eyes at him.

“I am weak. Unworthy.” Luke glared at the amber liquid in his glass.

“Says who?” Rodger demanded.

“Father.” The word fell from his lips. “I was never good enough for him. You were his favourite. He said it should have been you who was the first born.”

“And was father some omnipotent being?” Rodger arched an eyebrow at Luke. “Was he God?”

“Of course he was not.” Luke frowned at his brother.

“Father was wrong. And what little I remember of him… You have always been more like a father to me than a brother. You have been the measure of a good—no, a great man in my eyes.” Rodger sighed. “All my life, I have watched you strive to be the man you thought our father wanted you to be. I have watched you do the best you could.”

“And that is not good enough.” Luke muttered.

“It is more than good enough. You have made our duchy thrive! More than that, the people love you.” Rodger shook his head. “You know, I can scarcely go into town without hearing of how good a Duke you have been.

“Every year, you receive cards from the tenants thanking you. The farmers go above and beyond for you.” Rodger continued.

“That is because I am their duke.” Luke shrugged.

“It is because they respect you. You do not spend much time amongst the people, but I do.” Rodger poured himself another drink. “It is the privilege of being the second son. And I have seen how things have flourished.”

“But I almost ruined everything when I inherited.” Luke remembered just how close they had come to losing everything.

“You were thirteen! You were a child, of course you made mistakes.” Rodger dug his knuckles into his brow. “And you fixed your mistakes. Warren is thriving.”

“But what about you?” Luke asked.

“What about me? I have been waiting years for you to realise the truth.” Rodger took a cautious sip of whiskey.

“Which is?”

His brother gave him an exasperated glare. “You are an amazing duke. You are more than our duchy deserves. You insist you do not want a family, that you do not want any of that. But I have seen the way you light up around children. You have not let yourself want it, because you think you do not deserve it. But you are wrong, dearest brother. You deserve all of it.”

“But your children will inherit nothing. Or at least, not the title.” Luke frowned.

“I have never wanted them to. I have seen the pressure you face every day, and I do not think I would have the strength to bear it.” Rodger shrugged. “You are a man of action, a born leader. Just look at the way you saved Miss Pembleton. I just stood there, rooted to the spot.”

“I did what I had to.” His heart squeezed as the image of Emily’s limp body sprang to his mind.

“And you laid into me afterwards – and your anger was justified. I had failed in my duty. And you, as you always do, cleaned up my mess.” Rodger gave him a knowing look. “You are always looking after people, but you never spare a thought for yourself.”

“That is the nature of being a leader.” Luke shrugged.

“Well, perhaps it is time that you look to your own heart. Your own needs.” Rodger fixed him with a serious look. “Now brother, tell me, what is it that you want?”

He heard the echo of Emily in his brother’s words, and the truth struck him like a hammer. “I want her. I want Emily.”

“I want the family, I want to marry her. I want a life with her.” Giddiness spread through him and he leapt to his feet. “I want these halls to be full of her laughter. Of her music. I want this castle to be full of life.”

“What else do you want?” Rodger asked, standing up excitedly.

“I want to be happy.” Luke grinned. “I deserve to be happy.”

“She would make a fine duchess.” Rodger grinned back.

“I love her.” Luke breathed, running a hand through his hair. I love her.

Rodger raised an eyebrow at him. “I know.”

“I have been a fool.” Luke slumped.

“You have, but you do not have to remain a fool.” Rodger squeezed his upper arm. “You can simply let yourself be happy.”

“What if I am too late? What if I have ruined everything?” Luke saw Emily, saw the disappointment and the pain in her eyes.

He had caused that hurt and pain.

“You will never know unless you try.” Rodger said. “And is she not worth trying for?”

Luke swallowed. “Is she still at Emberly? Or has she returned to Pembleton Manor?”

“She was there when I left, and I believe she was planning on remaining there a few days more.” Rodger said.

“Then I know what I have to do.” Luke muttered to himself. “I will make things right between us.”

“Good luck brother.” Rodger smiled. “Now it is time to go and get your duchess.”

Luke nodded, and began to run. He sprinted down the stairs, taking them two at a time. With every step, he grew more sure of himself.

“Hold on Emily. I am coming.” He whispered as he sprinted towards the stables. “I just hope you can forgive me.”