Chapter 33

CHAPTER 33

Ian glanced down at his sketches again, then back to the half-erected frame of the glass house he was building for Charlotte. It was still too small.

“Damn it.”

“What is it?” Nathaniel asked from the stonewall twenty feet away.

His brother took a large bite out of a hand pie as the neighboring cow wandered over and nuzzled him, attempting to steal the hand pie.

“Will you go?” Nathaniel snapped. “I can barely keep it down as it is. The End has nothing on these cows. Yesterday, I attempted to walk through the field before fishing while eating a scone, and I thought I would have been trampled to death. It’s absurd.”

Ian nodded, laughing to himself and silently thankful that he had convinced Nathaniel to come stay with him at Stonehurst these past few weeks after what happened in London.

But still, he hadn't told his brother. There hadn’t been a perfect time. And maybe, more like, it was that he feared his brother would be furious with him.

Ian had ordered all the alcohol from Stonehurst to be emptied out, and for the first few days after his brother’s arrival, Nathaniel was violently ill. But after a week had passed, he had weathered the worst .

“You better eat that hand pie,” Ian said as the cow pushed its nose against Nathaniel's shoulder.

“I can't help it if she finds me a prize," Nathaniel said with a grin.

“Don't flatter yourself.”

Nathaniel turned his body, blocking the last few bites of the hand pie from the cow’s long tongue. "It's not as if anyone else is here," he grumbled.

That much was true.

Ian was well aware.

He was giving Charlotte time, but he would proceed with a divorce if she so wanted. Honestly, he had been too busy with his brother and now too busy attempting to build a glass house for her. Because even if they went through with a divorce, he wanted her to have a place for her plants. He wanted her to be happy above all else. He didn't want to think of it as a parting gift because gift made it sound as though it were a happy occasion. But his heart was broken, and he had walked the halls of Stonehurst these past few weeks, numb and empty and missing her incredibly.

“I'll finish the hand pie,” Nathaniel said, and he scooted from his seat on the stone wall, glaring at the cow. “Go eat some grass.” He waved the cow away, then laughed. “She just wants some company. Don't we all?”

“Have you heard from her?” Ian asked, knowing full well that, like Charlotte, Arabella hadn't returned the letters that Nathaniel wrote.

“No.”

Nathaniel brushed off his hands before he walked through the tall grass, the wildflowers and daisies dancing around his feet.

Behind Ian, he could hear the buzz of the bees. He hoped he had picked the perfect spot for the glass house. In time, he would find a way to heat it. But until then, he would take advantage of the summer heat. If only he could figure out the correct roof style. It needed to be vented.

“There are plenty of people who could help you with this.” Nathaniel walked over and slapped a hand against Ian's shoulder, causing him to wince. He had injured himself only a week prior working on the wall. That too was another project nagging at him to be finished.

“There's something I have to tell you,” Ian said with a deep breath, turning to his brother. “I don't know how to tell you, and I've been holding the truth back now since I've returned.”

Nathaniel grinned, his brother's reaction mixed with curiosity.

“I don't see what's amusing.”

“Not amusing,” Nathaniel corrected. “It's only that since you've returned, you've been humble and honest. And I don't know if you ever truly were before. Though when you met Lottie in London all those years ago, I could tell you were striving to be a better man.”

Ian scoffed. “I don't deserve her. So, part of me understands perfectly why she won't return. But at the same time, I live each day as if it's for her alone because I don't know any different. I miss her.” He shook his head, putting his hands on his hips and swallowing hard before continuing, “Before Mother died, she confessed something.”

Nathaniel ran his hand through his hair, confusion pinched between his brows. “Confessed what?”

“Father isn't?—”

“He wasn't my father," Nathaniel continued. "I know."

Ian nearly gawked at his brother. "You've known. You've known this whole time? How?"

"Father told me. We were fishing one day, and you were away at school. He had had an argument with Mother. I was maybe seven or eight. Maybe he had been drinking, or maybe he was just mad, but he told me he wasn't my father, that Mother had an affair. And I also know that my real father died shortly after I was conceived in a duel over a race." He laughed to himself, a heartless chuckle. “That explains a lot, don't you think?”

Ian's heart broke a little. “Nate…” He hardly ever called his brother that. “I never meant to leave you behind.”

His brother merely shrugged. “It doesn't matter now. Father left. He loved someone else, and the temptation was too great. Love over duty. I don't know if I blame him, though. I do blame how he treated you. ”

A small rosefinch landed on a stake by the glass house, ruffling its feathers.

What Ian would do for a cheroot right now, but he hadn’t any in his jacket. Instead, he scratched the back of his neck.

“He loved to remind everyone of his title when it suited. I allowed his advice into my life once, but I won’t allow his problems to be mine. I know that I love Charlotte. I did then, and I sure as hell do now.”

Nathaniel kicked a rock around with the toe of his boot before peering up at Ian once more. "Mother was so young when she married the duke. She missed her home, and I don't blame her for leaving, not now at least, but it was lonely here. And maybe that's why after you left, I came often to check on Charlotte. And in the process, I think I inadvertently caused more harm than good because, shortly after, the rumors began, and she was mocked and called the Honey Duchess. I just never wanted her to know the loneliness I felt.”

“I was an idiot." Ian sighed. “An idiot." He hung his head, staring at the ground, furious with himself, feeling more than a little helpless.

"I need to figure out this glass house. And then I need to work on the wall," Ian said.

"Not with your shoulder," his brother reminded him. “No. You and I, we will start again. We will finish it together." With that, his brother stuck out his hand.

Ian shook it.

“We've each other at the end of the day. And I'm here to help, but you have to let me.”

His chest was tight, and he didn’t know what else to say, his mind spinning blankly. “Well, come on then. Or do you want to spend more time with your cow?”

Nathaniel nudged him against his shoulder. “I can’t help it. Women love a rake.”