Chapter 16

"N o one is getting murdered today, are they, Ajax?" the Duke of Westleigh prompted.

Ajax shot his eldest brother, Leander, a hard stare. "Hopefully not," he drawled.

"There's nothing hopeful about it. I have utter certainty," Leander returned, standing on the doorstep of Lord Tuttle's townhome, his bright blue coat resplendent in the morning light. "We are going to do this the old-fashioned way."

"The old-fashioned way," Ajax pointed out through gritted teeth, "absolutely would be to do murder."

After all, he'd just come from visiting the Kingmaker's castle. It was true that the Kingmaker was a master of marriage negotiations, but he was also a brute. And the truth was Ajax did feel like being a brute today, but he at last gave his brother a relenting sigh. "Fine," he said. "I shall keep myself in check."

"Good. If you wish to unleash all that murderous intent on someone, call upon Mr. Mulvaney, and he shall do whatever is necessary to get your anger out."

Leander had introduced him to the Irish fighter, Hartigan Mulvaney, years ago. They all went under his tutelage. But the truth was if anyone was going to end up being the victim of murderous energy, it was not Mulvaney but Ajax. The man was a veritable whirlwind of fisticuffs. Still, it might not be such a terrible idea.

However, he took one look at his brother and stated, "This is going to work out in our favor, and when it does, I won't need Mulvaney."

Leander gave him a slow smile. His eyes shone with that devilish, dangerous glint that could lurk there on the right occasions.

"Oh, my strategy is set," the duke said merrily. "They have no idea what's about to hit them."

And it was true, for their mother stood just behind them. They were coming in full force. It was really a miracle the entire Briarwood clan was not coming as well. Only such a thing could cause Winifred's mother to collapse with apoplexy, and he had no wish to cause accidental death.

The duke pounded upon the door.

It swung open, and the butler took one look at the three of them, said not a word, and stepped back. It was quite common. The Duke of Westleigh, after all, was a known figure. His face was constantly being sketched, as was their mother's, the dowager duchess. Ajax was in the newssheets all the time, but his likeness was not quite as well-known.

They crossed into the beautifully appointed foyer, and the duke said, "We are here to see Lady Tuttle, and, of course, if her eldest son is in, that would be appropriate too."

The butler gave a quick nod, turned, and they all followed him. They were not about to risk any sort of deflection.

His mother gave Ajax a cheerful smile. "Never fear, my dear. Briarwoods always end up on top."

Ajax nodded. It was true, and yet it was difficult to trust in it in this moment. He could not let Winifred down.

The butler quickly escorted them into a mint-green parlor with white accents. Lady Tuttle stood abruptly, her embroidery going to the floor. Her younger daughter was sitting beside her, her ringleted hair perfect, her gown perfect, her face perfect. Everything about the young lady was completely the opposite of Winifred, and the poor thing looked like a bird in a cage. He could feel it from here.

Did the mother have absolutely no idea of the effect she had upon her children? It seemed not.

"How do you do, Lady Tuttle?" his brother said in that slightly dangerous and yet elegant way that the duke had.

She blinked. "Your Grace," she stated, "I had no idea that you would come to call."

"Did you not?" the Duke of Westleigh said with a sort of playful surprise. "Has your daughter not told you of her affection for my brother? Did your son not tell you that they intend to wed?"

She stuttered, "T-they did, they did indeed. Only my daughter, Winifred…" She laughed, but it was one that was slightly hysterical. "She is full of such fancies that it's difficult to know when she's telling the truth or not."

"Mama," the younger sister began, "that is not—"

"Shush," Lady Tuttle cut in. "Now, go upstairs and make sure Winifred is well rested for her guests. We shall call her if it is warranted."

The girl looked as if she might revolt, but then she headed for the door. But before she exited, she turned and looked over her shoulder and announced, "My sister is marvelous, and she may be fanciful, but she would never imagine anything absurd and try to pass it off as the truth."

The girl flounced out of the room, and Ajax was tempted to applaud.

Lady Tuttle looked mortified, and she pressed a hand to her middle.

Leander cocked his head to the side, light falling on his dark hair, giving a blue tint to its waves. "And your eldest son. Is he also prone to lying?"

Lady Tuttle's eyes bulged. "No, of course not, Your Grace. He is a man of excellent character."

"Good. I like it when my future family has excellent character."

"Future family?" Lady Tuttle echoed.

"Indeed. I think the wedding should be at St. Paul's, don't you?" The duke shrugged. "Yes. In a few weeks' time, we'll invite everyone, and it will be a grand affair. The party shall be at Heron House. Do you have anything to add?"

Lady Tuttle swung her gaze from the duke to Lord Ajax to the dowager duchess. "I… I…"

"Good," Leander boomed, clapping his ivory gloved hands together. "It is settled. I shall meet with your son in just a moment. Ajax will come, and we shall make a marriage arrangement. You shall be very pleased. Your daughter will be a very, very wealthy young woman. She shall have her own coach, and her own servants, and she shall have a sizable allowance every year. And if my brother were to die, God forbid, she will have a large amount settled upon her and any children. Does that meet your pleasure?" The duke hesitated and gave a smile. "Though, of course, it is not yours to arrange but your son's."

"I… I…" Lady Tuttle appeared overborne as many were by Leander.

"Oh, it is so wonderful to see you speechless in your pleasure, my dear!" Their mother said, striding forward and embracing the lady. "Come. We are to be family, after all."

Lady Tuttle stood like a statue for a moment, having been enveloped in the dowager duchess's voluminous presence. Their mama was indeed a force to be reckoned with. Her hat was massive today, bouncing with feathers, and her gown was a gorgeous emerald-green, which swirled about her and whooshed about Lady Tuttle's legs.

And Mama's jewels winked like stars in the daylight. Lady Tuttle looked like a pigeon befriended by a peacock.

"Ah," the duke said, turning at the sound of footsteps outside the door. "The fellow I need to see."

Lord Tuttle entered the room with surprising dignity, his dark hair swept back from his weary face as if he had been carrying a great deal of suffering these last days. But when he spotted them, some of that worry seemed to lift.

"You've come," Lord Tuttle breathed as if he had doubted they would.

This grated upon Ajax, but he supposed he could understand the man's unwillingness to believe his sister would be taken care of until this moment.

"Lord Tuttle, shall we adjourn to your study and see the arrangement done?" Leander asked, though it was no question.

Lord Tuttle had clearly never had a duke in his home, and his mouth parted ever so slightly at having someone so powerful in his parlor. "Your Grace," he said, "it would be an honor."

Leander examined his signet ring and then said, "I understand you had some most interesting conversation with my brother, Lord Ajax."

Tuttle cleared his throat, looking nervous, as if he feared his passionate words would now cause a duke to be offended.

Leander crossed the room and clapped the man on the shoulder jovially. "Let us go and clarify our positions."

Ajax beamed. This was going so well he could barely countenance it. The duke was overwhelming everyone. Just as Leander had predicted. Of course, one of the qualities of a duke was the ability to overwhelm.

Dukes were only one step down from princes and kings, and anyone in their vicinity understood that if they did not do as a duke wished, well, things could get difficult very quickly. It was, of course, one of the frustrations of being a younger son. No one took Ajax quite as seriously, and other young men might have been upset by this.

Ajax was not. He was happy to be a younger son. He did not wish to have the weight and responsibilities of his older brother. But he was more than happy to trot out his older brother's influence in a matter such as this.

Even so, it was as if they had all forgotten exactly how powerful the Duke of Westleigh was. People had a tendency to bluster when they were not in the company of a duke, thinking they were powerful. But when confronted with the Briarwoods in person, well, it was hard to deny where the real power lies.

"Come on then," Ajax urged. "You and I got off on such terrible footing. Let's change that, shall we? Over brandy?"

Tuttle gaped at him. "Of course, my lord, do come with me."

And with that, they left their mother with Lady Tuttle.

Ajax leaned over and whispered to Leander, "Do you think Lady Tuttle shall recover?"

"Oh, Mama shall see to it. You know it," Leander whispered back as they followed Lord Tuttle down the hall. "As a matter of fact, Lady Tuttle will likely be improved. Mama has a way of taking the worst sort of person and finding the best in them. It's tempting to shame Lady Tuttle, no doubt, but Mama will find a way to make our families blend together."

With that, they turned to the left, following Lord Tuttle into his study. Brandy was poured, and Ajax gave the man a ball-crushing stare.

"You were terrible to your sister," Ajax ground out.

Leander let out a strangled note. "Ajax."

Tuttle stared at him, then said tightly, "You have to understand what I saw. I saw a rake with my sister at an inn."

"Fair point," the duke said, obviously eager to leave the past in the past if possible. "Fair point. And I too would likely feel the same if I saw my younger sister in the embrace of a man—"

"We were not embracing," Ajax said.

"Ajax," the duke ground out, "I am using a touch of theatricality as our family tradition allows. Now, cease."

Ajax scowled but took the warning. But he was still furious at the way Win had been treated. Still, Leander was right. He had to focus on the marriage arrangement.

Leander inclined his head. "I no doubt would have wanted to call the rake out too, Lord Tuttle."

That was entirely untrue.

Already, their sisters had engaged in quite interesting behavior. There had been no calling out. The truth was they believed their sisters were equal to them in independence, thought, and decision-making capability. They were not about to act as if their sisters were infants. They were not. They were powerful, capable women. But not all men understood this about women in general.

"All right, Tuttle," Ajax said, "I'll take the fact that you were acting as a man of honor, but some of the other things that you said about your sister were rather unpleasant, weren't they?"

"Yes," Tuttle admitted. "I regret them."

"You do?" Ajax said, taken aback.

Tuttle frowned. "It was the heat of the moment, and I shouldn't have said those things. She can't help who she is."

"Help who she is," Ajax breathed. "There you go still. You think she's something to be fixed."

"I don't," Tuttle countered. "But you have to understand that we have been in a most interesting situation since my father died. If anything, actually, she's the most like Papa, and it has been a thorn in my mother's side for years. She can't seem to face the fact that my sister reminds her of him on an almost daily basis, and the pain of it…"

Ajax gaped. "The pain of it causes her to treat Winifred like that?"

A muscle tightened in Tuttle's jaw. "Papa never moved about in society. He preferred to keep himself in his library and let Mama do all the work. Mama adored him, and Papa adored her. But he rather left her holding the reins, so to speak, and I think Mama wanted to make certain that Winifred never let anyone down like Papa did."

"Were you happy with your father?" Ajax asked suddenly.

Tuttle's eyes narrowed, and then something sad passed across his gaze. "Very," he said.

"Was your mother happy?" Leander asked gently.

"Very," he said again, and this time his voice was rougher with emotion. "Except for the fact that she did not know how to understand their difference in temperament. She loved to be out at balls, and Papa preferred to sit by the fire. He just simply couldn't muster himself up in conversation and in company. It made him deeply uncomfortable."

"And you couldn't see that your sister was the same and deserved equal respect?" Ajax asked.

"She's a girl," Tuttle replied, frustrated. "She had to get married."

"And now she is getting married," Ajax replied.

Tuttle laughed. "Yes, now she is, and she's marrying into one of the most powerful families in the realm. Who would've thought it about our Winifred?"

"Perhaps you'll realize now that being different is an asset, and you should allow your other brother and sister, and yourself, to be the same," Leander said. "I doubt any of you fit the mold your mother has tried to make. She made those molds in grief, after all, not in joy."

Tuttle's mouth pressed into a thin line. "It is not an easy lesson, Your Grace, but I shall try to take it. And now that I see your brother means what he said, and you are here, and my sister is being welcomed as a respected member to your family, and not someone to be ashamed of, let us make the arrangements and let us celebrate. Because I, for one, am ready to move on from the mistakes I have made and the pain of the past."

Ajax marveled at Tuttle. And, for a moment, he didn't mind at all that the fellow was going to be his brother-in-law.

Perhaps he wasn't such a terrible sort. Perhaps he was like most of the rest of people, desperately trying to do their best, failing, and was a complete stranger to himself.

But anyone who got in the company of the Briarwoods would soon find that change was a wonderful thing indeed. As was loving oneself entirely.