Chapter 12

CHAPTER12

“There is nothing better than an afternoon nap!” The voice jolted Katherine out of her trance, nearly making her stumble backwards.

Simon had clearly woken up from his rest and decided to bother the remainder of the household.

“I feel like a brand-new person,” he added chirpily, stepping between Katherine and Gerald.

Katherine had to move aside so he could squeeze himself in. A silence followed, only to be broken by him again.

“I see you have finished the painting, Your Grace,” Simon noted, stretching out a finger to touch the canvas, but Gerald swiftly swatted it away. “Oil paint, right.”

Simon looked at the painting for a moment, before nodding his head and stepping back to take a seat. He plopped onto a chair so suddenly that Katherine winced at the sound. If Simon were to sit in each chair in that manner, they might have to buy new chairs each year.

Simon stretched out his legs before looking over his shoulder to where Gerald and Katherine were both standing. He gestured with his head for them to take a seat.

“And what makes you think I am to accept orders from you?” Gerald huffed.

“Then I was right!” Simon smiled, sitting up in his chair. Gerald and Katherine looked at him with confused expressions. “I was sure last night had barely drained any tension from you, Brother. So I find it best we head for a couple more drinks tonight.”

“No, Simon,” Gerald said sternly. “I accompanied you on your bender yesterday, and I don’t believe you need another night of overindulgence.”

“I might not, but look at you, Brother.” Simon tutted, pointing a finger in Gerald’s direction. “Your shoulders resemble blocks of ice due to the tension in them. I doubt that all of that is muscle.”

“Simon, no—” Gerald asserted once again, but then he was quickly interrupted.

“Oh, come on. Don’t ruin the mood! I had already arranged a meeting with old friends of ours from university, and they would be so disappointed if I arrive alone,” Simon reasoned.

Katherine watched as Gerald clenched his jaw tightly, the muscles in his neck ticking. She could see he was angry—very angry.

“All right,” he huffed, before walking out of the drawing room, his footsteps echoing in the hall.

Katherine looked over at Simon and tried her best to hide her displeasure.

“I believe you should start another painting, Your Grace,” Simon drawled, lounging back in his chair. “You seem to enjoy the task quite a lot.”

“I believe it best to allow my wrists a small break, Lord Simon,” Katherine replied, massaging her slender wrists with her thumb and forefinger. “It can be quite taxing on the body. Sitting in the same position starts to hurt after a while.”

“Why, of course,” Simon relented as he slowly started to rise from his chair. He stretched out his arms before making for the door. “I still believe it might be easier on your body than walking.”

With that last statement, he walked out of the room, leaving Katherine seething with anger. His comments were uncalled for, as well as deeply hurtful. At that moment, she wished she had the power to silence others.

She walked over to the chair he had just vacated in an attempt to have a different view of her painting. It often helped if an artist surveyed their art from a different angle, but something else had already caught her eye.

The chair looked quite the eyesore after he had left. Katherine knew that a maid could rearrange it in no time, but she couldn’t stand seeing the beautiful chair in such a state of disarray.

She picked up the cushion and started to fluff it, despite her aching wrists. Yet, after placing it back down and wiping some tassels, she found herself much more pleased. She wasn’t going to allow a silly young man to ruin a beautiful home that had existed centuries before him.

“Oh, Your Grace, I would’ve attended to that shortly,” Anne said as she poked her head inside, a basket of laundry in her hands.

“It’s no worry, Anne. It frees your time for more duties,” Katherine mumbled as she looked down at the cushion.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Anne said before leaving her in alone once again. She must’ve seen that Katherine had been in no mood for small talk.

To say that Katherine was confused was an understatement. On the one hand, she felt a flutter in her stomach and heat rising to her cheeks whenever she thought of her palm on Gerald’s. But on the other hand, she felt a dull sense of anger—anger directed at Simon and his childishness.

* * *

It was bound to happen at any moment, Gerald could feel it. Though he must admit he was surprised that it hadn’t already happened. But unfortunately, he knew it was inevitable. It was an argument he would need to get into once again. The never-ending argument about money.

“I arranged a carriage to drop us off in about fifteen minutes. I suspect him to arrive any moment now,” Simon chirped as he pulled out his pocket watch, watching the time tick by before his next rendezvous.

“I hope you behave yourself this time,” Gerald grumbled. “It was nothing but an embarrassment and an insult to the family. So drunk that you could barely stay up on your feet.”

“Are we truly starting the night off on such a bad note?” Simon asked with a hint of annoyance. “I believe it is you who is in desperate need of a bender.”

“I am fine,” Gerald said bluntly, turning to head out the front door. He was in no mood for going out with his brother tonight, but the supposed arrangement with old friends forced him to agree. He thought it reflected badly on a man if he made promises—though he might be unaware of them himself—and did not keep them. It was in his, and his family’s best interest, if he showed his face tonight.

“Simon,” Gerald called, watching as his brother passed him by and quickly went down the front steps.

“Yes, Your Grace?” Simon asked as he turned around on his heel, his tone a bit too mocking for Gerald’s liking. “What is the matter?”

“I need you to promise me that you would keep your drinking at a minimum tonight,” Gerald said.

“You are still young, Brother, there is no need to turn into a bore once you’re past the age of five-and-twenty,” Simon whined., his voice still joking but hurtful intentions ever present.

Gerald gave him a piercing, warning glare.

“Yes, I am to behave myself,” Simon relented with a sigh, throwing his hands in the air in mock surrender. “No indulging tonight.”

Gerald looked down at his brother for a moment longer. He knew Simon was about to ask for money any minute now, he was just unsure of when to expect it.

In the carriage, Gerald found it best to keep to himself. He rested his elbow on the small window frame while staring out at the passing scenery. The same scenery he stared at each time he avoided making conversation during a carriage ride.

But his attempt to avoid making conversation went unnoticed, as Simon continued to ramble on about nonsense.

“So, I see you found yourself a painter,” Simon said with a deep chuckle.

That statement caused Gerald to finally look up at him, but he kept his mouth shut.

“You need to beware, perhaps your heir would only like to paint pretty pictures, not caring about taking over your ducal duties.”

“Simon, do me a favor and stay quiet for a moment, however brief,” Gerald huffed, his head starting to ache from listening to his brother’s jibes.

Simon looked at him, and for a moment, Gerald thought that he might have listened to him. But then he opened his mouth again.

“I am just looking out for you.” Simon shrugged. “Either the heir goes after his mother—a painter in a daze—or worse, he goes after you. That might shorten your lifespan as well, as it tends to be a running pattern in the family.”

Gerald slammed his foot heavily on the floor of the carriage, causing the coachman to look over his shoulder in suspicion. Simon looked slightly frightened, but he was enjoying his brother’s response nonetheless.

“I ask you once again to stay quiet,” Gerald said through gritted teeth. “And if you ever bring up such unwanted topics again, you will face far worse consequences.”

Simon shot him a daring look, but then he lowered his gaze and fell silent.

Once they had arrived at the gentlemen’s club, Gerald felt a bit ashamed. He didn’t want the image of a drunken brother to ruin his family’s reputation, and he was sure that everyone was aware of the state Simon had been in the previous night.

“Your Grace!” a voice called as Gerald walked into the large hall.

He did his best to muster a smile for whoever had been calling to him. He turned to see a short, fat man with a thinning beard. A monocle perched in front of his left eye.

“Lord Williamson,” Gerald returned in a deep voice. “Pleasure to see you once again.”

“I had not expected to see you back so early, Your Grace. You have always been a scarce sight before your brother decided to bring you along. I like Lord Simon, he ensures the ton gets to see more of you!”

Lord Williamson took a moment to laugh at his own joke, the odd sound startling Gerald a bit. He continued to force a smile.

“He can be very persuasive,” Gerald responded, hoping he would be able to end the conversation on this note.

Thankfully, someone else decided to do that for him—Joshua Radcliffe, the Baron Oakvale.

“I never knew you to be persuaded so easily, Your Grace,” Lord Oakvale interjected .

Lord Williamson started to feel a bit out of place amongst the young men and was quick to excuse himself from the conversation.

“I indeed am not. I find Simon just slightly impossible at times,” Gerald said, briefly surveying the room in search of his brother, who was already standing at the bar. “I guess you are one of the ‘old friends’ he had promised we would meet?”

Joshua looked at Gerald with a confused expression for a moment, his lip curling slightly. “I believe you might have me mistaken for another group of friends, Your Grace. I have had no prior arrangements until an impulsive decision led me here tonight. I am glad I came. Otherwise, I might not have seen you for another five years.”

“Are you out of the city?” Gerald asked, unsure what sort of engagement could keep the Baron away for years.

Joshua didn’t reply, but merely grinned at him.

“What makes you grin so, Lord Oakvale?”

“I meant I am not to see you in five years due to your rare appearance at these kinds of places. You are a man of the shadows.” Joshua laughed, causing Gerald to shake his head. He was not as amused by the joke as Joshua was.

“I prefer the shadows much more than a group of drunken men fighting over a simple card game,” Gerald muttered, but then he quickly adopted a more light-hearted tone. “Though you may not be one of Simon’s chosen friends for the night, I am glad to have you here, Lord Oakvale.”

“It is my pleasure to meet you once again, Your Grace. Do forgive me for my frankness, but I have been dying to know how things are going between you and your new wife,” Joshua said, barely allowing him any time to think about the sudden change of topic.

Gerald blinked at him twice. “Quite well, quite well,” he replied as he straightened up. He was a bit unsure of how to answer that question and hoped his subtle answer might discourage any further inquiries.

“And your brother?” Joshua pressed, leaning a bit closer. He was well aware that Simon was the one more worth worrying about than Katherine. “Still clinging to old habits?”

“He had not asked me for money as of recently, but I know him far too well to think he rid himself of those habits. I expect his old questions to come up any minute now.” Gerald sighed. “I suspect him to be gambling again, but one cannot be too sure.”

“I am sorry to hear that, Your Grace.” Joshua shook his head. “He hadn’t changed one bit from when we were all younger. Instead of taking all of the group’s toys, he now prefers to take all your money.”

Gerald nodded at that statement, both of them looking over at Simon, who was still at the bar, laughing loudly with unknown men. Gerald felt a knot tighten in his stomach. He preferred to talk about anything other than his brother at that moment.

“How have you been doing, Lord Oakvale?” Gerald asked.

“Not many complaints, Your Grace,” Joshua replied, surprised at the abrupt change of subject. “One can only be happy with the cards dealt to them.”

“I am glad,” Gerald said, nodding and looking about the room for a proper seat. “I think I am going to help myself to some brandy. Do you want to join me?”