Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

" W hat did that fire ever do to vex you?"

Victor didn't look up from where his gaze was fixed on the fireplace in his study. Rolling his broad shoulders in a shrug, he put the bottle to his mouth and took another swig of the golden liquid that wasn't doing its job of emptying his head fast enough.

"Are you going to tell me what happened between you and Miss Proctor? Or shall I guess?"

He finally tore his gaze away from the fire to stare at the Viscount, "I'm too sober for that conversation."

"It looks to me like you're not trying hard enough to change that," the man pointed out.

"What does that mean?"

Patrick wisely changed the topic, "is the engagement over then?"

The Duke dragged a hand through his dark hair, mussing it up. It was getting a tad overlong and was looking rather rakish. He would have to cut it soon for the wedding.

"No," he insisted, "the wedding will take place as planned. The situation isn't that dire."

Patrick blinked at him, "then why in all that is holy are we drowning ourselves in whiskey? Not that I'm complaining about the free alcohol. It's a rather wonderful bottle. Say, Victor, how long do you plan on letting that barrel sit before you make your magic?"

"She's far too tempting," was the Duke's bitter reply. "And she was going to kiss Forsythe. I could not let her kiss that bastard. She's betrothed to me and he is a mystery. I do not believe he's a good man. I could not let her get close to him, you know? He must be dangerous and she would have been in harm's way."

Patrick's eyes were wide with shock, "What are you going on about? I can't make heads or tails of your blathering. Why would she want to kiss Forsythe? I do not think she knows him at all."

A chuckle echoed through the room. "It would have been for my benefit and it was all because I told her that I will not touch her."

It was impossible, but the Viscount's eyes went wider. "You told her what? Now why would you do that?"

The Duke took another swig of his drink and prepared to have the entire sordid tale come out, "It was supposed to be a marriage in name only. I do not know why she agreed to it."

"Because her aunt wears clothes from a few seasons ago."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Patrick rolled his eyes and muttered, "bloody obtuse."

"It was supposed to be cut and dry," he mumbled. "Someone to fend off my mother and the rest of the ton . Now, it feels like it would have been far easier for me to go charging at the ton with a blunt sword and half lame horse."

The viscount snorted, "that is a delightful image. But truly, man, it would not have taken a genius to realize that your entire mad scheme would end up with drink and regret. What were you even thinking getting into any sort of arrangement with a woman you were already fascinated with."

He glared at his friend. "It was not fascination."

"From the moment you bumped into her and she gave you that dressing down, I knew she was trouble. I thought you would have run in the opposite direction. After all, you have spent your entire life running from the slightest hint of a connection."

"If I had kept my hands to myself..." he trailed off. When he looked up, he found his friend studying him with eyes that said more than words. Patrick thought he was crazy for touching her, but the truth was that he was crazy for ever thinking he would not touch her.

Too much faith in his own willpower.

His collar felt too tight, but when he reached for it to loosen his cravat, he found that he had already discarded it and the top buttons of his shirt were undone.

"We always make that mistake," the Viscount said quietly. "Men like us always think we have it all under control and then a little wisp of a thing comes and snatches that control from right under you."

Victor laughed, "infuriating, isn't it?" And then the other man's words hit him. He tried to blink his inebriation away, "don't tell me you've gotten tangled in some debutante's net."

"I wish I could tell you that," he tried to grin but it came out looking rather like a grimace, "but the thing is, there is nowhere else I'd rather be."

The Duke plopped his bottle down on the desk and leaned forward, "Who is she?"

"The most bewitching woman on the face of the earth," his gaze was miles away and a soft smile played on the corners of his mouth. It was an amazing sight because Victor had seen no indication that his friend had met someone new.

Perhaps it was one of their old acquaintances. But why had he never mentioned her before tonight? Could it be that he had been too lost in Lavinia to notice anything else? Guilt twisted inside of him.

"I fear that I've fallen madly in love with her, and I cannot live another day without making her mine."

"I do not believe this," the Duke laughed, "I do hope that whatever plague you have caught is not transmittable, because I shall have to protect myself from it."

"It may be too late for that," he said seriously.

Victor frowned, "what?"

He decided that it was a discussion for another day, "Victor, I am in love with your sister."

There was a deathly silence in the room for a moment, "what sister?"

The viscount rose to his feet, "I am in love with Georgie and I wish to get your blessing to marry her."

Victor's face went from confusion to surprise to anger and then finally settled on a cold fury. "Get out."

"I don't suppose-"

He flew to his feet before he could finish his sentence and the bottle on the table teetered and crashed to the floor, raining glass and the remnant of whiskey. "Have you been putting your filthy hands on my sister?"

"It is not like that, I've loved-"

"How long?" His voice was whip sharp, "how long have you had your sights on her? How long have you been betraying me?"

Patrick's eyebrows drew downward, "this has nothing to do with you!"

"She is a child!"

"She is no more a child than Miss Proctor is. And don't you make it sound like I have been harboring thought of her for years. Georgie is wonderful and we have been friends for years but of recent, that friendship has transformed-"

Victor didn't want to hear it. "You had no right. She is my sister for God's sake."

"You may not realize this," Patrick said blandly, "but your sister is a woman. She is a marriageable lady of the ton. In fact, you were all too willing to foist her off on the first suitable gentleman that crossed her path, so why not me?"

"It is different. You have been carrying on behind my back."

"I doubt you would have looked away from Miss Proctor long enough to notice us even if we had been carrying on right in front of you."

Victor's jaw clenched, "what is that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what it means. You have had your entire focus on her from the very first moment, and it has blinded you to everything else including the fact that Georgie and I are in love and she's happy."

A thought suddenly struck him, and he froze, hands curling into fists, "Have you taken her innocence? Is she-" he couldn't even get the words past his mouth. The horror of it was too great.

The Viscount's eyes flashed with something that resembled hatred, "Do you think so little of me? I could never do that to her. I would never dishonor a lady in such a way, not to mention Georgie."

Victor tensed, but this time it was with guilt that he tried hard to conceal, because his friend was a much better man than him, "Get out!"

"What did I expect from you?" He scoffed. "You are so hellbent on spending the rest of your life alone that you cannot bear to see someone else happy and in love."

"You bastard," the Duke growled, "get out before I toss you out."

The other man watched him for a second and then sighed. Grabbing his coat and hat he stormed out of the room, leaving a silence that was far more oppressive than their angry exchange of words.

He needed to speak to Georgie. He needed to hear her say with her own mouth that she knew nothing of Patrick's intention to marry her. But when he stepped out of the study, he found his sister weeping into the chest of the man in question.

"It will be alright, darling," Patrick was saying, stroking her back.

"How could he!" was his sister's tearful reply.

"Georgie, come here this instant!" Victor roared, and when his friend made to pull away from the woman in his embrace, she fisted her hands into the front of his chest and held him in place.

"You brute," Georgie turned accusing eyes on him.

"Please, don't," the Viscount said in a defeated voice.

She glared at him, "do you expect that we should just stay silent while he tries to ruin our life?"

"I am doing this for your own good."

Georgie's eyebrows hiked up in disbelief and she rounded on him. "My own good? You do not even know what is good for yourself, so how do you presume to know what is good for someone else?"

His only reply was to shift his gaze to the man behind him. The man who he had thought of as a brother, "I do not like to repeat myself."

Without another word, Patrick turned around and walked out. He didn't watch the man exit. No, his eyes were on his sister and he watched her forlorn gaze track the Viscount's exit.

"I will never forgive you," she didn't scream at him, but the words made him flinch anyway.

"He's no good for you," he tried to explain. "Up until a while ago, he was firmly against the idea of marriage."

"He changed. People change. You changed."

He scoffed, "I haven't changed."

"Keep telling yourself that," she scoffed back at him, "I do not care what you tell yourself, brother. What I do care about is you ruining the one good thing in my life. I will not let you destroy this for me. I refuse to let my chance at a great love pass me by because you thought you knew better."

"I know-"

"Nothing!" she screamed at him. "You know absolutely nothing."

And with that, she swept away from him and raced up the stairs, but the sound of her heartbroken sobs still echoed through his skull. Christ, what was it with him and making women cry today?

He decided that it just wasn't his day and he had best get himself to bed and forget about the entire affair. It didn't matter how much his sister cried, he was not going to change his mind about it. He knew the sort of man Patrick was and despite his heartfelt speech, there was no way his friend had done such a huge turnaround and decided to advocate for love.

It must be a cruel prank or something. The thought made him want to hit something and he suddenly regretted not taking out his frustration on the Viscount. Had the blighter really thought he would just hand over his sister to him on a silver platter?

And as for the girl herself, he would put his focus into finding her the right man and in time she would forget all about this nonsense.

Plan in mind, he made his way up the stairs and to his own bed, but sleep didn't find him until the small hours of the morning.