Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

G raham had been aware that he needed to speak with brothers for quite some time, but he could not bring himself to do so.

He was content with his life away from them. He had a good wife, far better than he ever thought he would find, and now that he was back in the household, he was realizing that he enjoyed the company of his staff too. He had friends, and they were good to him. Strictly speaking, he did not need anything else.

But he wanted to know them. Each and every time Samantha mentioned her sister, his heart ached. He had always told himself that he did not care whether or not his brothers were around, but the reminder that they did not speak hurt him more than he cared to admit.

And it had not been their fault.

They had all been complicit, but they could not be to blame for their father pitting them against one another. Graham wished more than anything that it had been different. Then, he realized that he could at last do something to fix it. After all, he was the oldest.

Which was why, even though he did not want to do it, he had boarded a carriage in the early hours of the morning to pay one of them a visit. He did not see it ending well, but he wanted to try, regardless. At worst, he would be back where he started.

He did not want to knock on the door. The house was small but nothing to scoff at. His brother had clearly done well for himself in spite of everything, and it was quite admirable that he had succeeded after all. It was a shame that Graham had not been there to see it, but the only way to remedy the situation was to speak with him, which would begin with him knocking on the door.

And so, he did.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and a man stepped out, staring at him with wide eyes.

"Your Grace," the butler said as he stepped outside, "I was not expecting you."

"My visit was unplanned," he said coldly. "Is he here?"

"He is, but I do not know if he is accepting visitors at this moment."

"That is fine by me. I am only here to speak with him for a while, and if he does not wish to, then I shall already have my answer. Would you ask him if he is able to talk?"

"I can certainly try, Your Grace."

Graham thanked him and waited in the doorway. It was more than likely that his brother would want nothing to do with him, but he did not care at that point. As long as he knew that he had tried, he would be happy.

"Graham," his brother said, appearing in the doorway.

"Andrew," Graham said warmly, "it is good to see you."

"No, it isn't," he replied roughly. "What do you want?"

"Can I come in? I was hoping that you and I could discuss something."

Andrew rolled his eyes at him, but he stepped to one side and allowed Graham to enter. Graham tried to be grateful that he was being allowed that much; his brother was two and twenty and had, to Graham's knowledge, been abandoned by all of them after the death of their father.

"So?" Andrew asked once they reached his study.

"Is it a bad time? You do not seem to be in the best spirits."

"I was actually in quite high spirits until I discovered you were darkening my doorway."

Graham could already tell how their meeting was going to go, but he wanted to persevere.

"Andrew, I am not here to fight. I am here to talk to you."

"Of course, you are. That is the coward's way, after all."

"Excuse me?"

"Graham, you know what you did. You knew that you would get everything you wanted, and so you abandoned us. Now you have the estates and the dukedom, and we have nothing, and now you are here again. Why? Was it not bad enough that you won?"

"Andrew, I did not win anything. I did not care about it, and you know that. You hardly noticed, you were too young, but Father did it to us on purpose. It was a game to him and nothing more. I wish you could have seen that."

"Is that what you think I am upset about? Is that truly what you think made me dislike you?"

Part of Graham was relieved his brother did not use the word hate only dislike.

"It was the competition. It had always been used to separate us, even if I did not care about it."

"Graham, I did not care about the competition!" Andrew snapped. "I could not care less that you are titled and wealthy. I have made my own way, without the need for your father's money."

"Our father."

"He is no father of mine. What did he ever do for me that made him worthy of that title?"

"Whether you like it or not, he is your father. In the same way, I am your brother, and I miss you."

"Do you? Then tell me, Brother, why did you never try to talk to me? It has been long enough now, and I have only ever lived right here, and yet you never came to see me. For all you know, I could have been struggling financially or facing an ailment just as Mother did, yet you never wanted to see me."

"Because I thought you all hated me."

"Oh, Nicholas and William do. They cannot stand you."

"So you speak to them?"

"Begrudgingly, which is how I came to learn that you are married now. I thank you for the invitation, or lack thereof, I should say."

"I did not think you would come."

"I would not have, but you still should have tried. If you claim to miss me so much, why now? Why not after Father's funeral or in the year since? Why, pray tell, have you chosen now to appear?"

"Because of my wife."

"She has told you to come?"

"She has made me want to change. She has a sister, and they are remarkably close. I saw them, and it made me realize that I wanted the same thing."

"And what if I don't want the same? What if this time, you do not get what you want?"

"Then I shall find peace in the fact that I tried. Andrew, we were never given a chance, but I want it to be different between us. Do you think it is possible?"

"I think you are a fool. You do not know anything about me, only that I played some role in the competition a man created years ago."

"But I would like to. I want to know more about you and what you have been doing. I do not care about the competition or the estates and titles. I care about you, whether you believe it or not."

"Do you truly care about me?"

"Of course."

"Then transfer the estates to me. If it all truly meant nothing to you, then prove it and hand it to me instead."

Graham sat back, trying not to let his mouth fall open. He had thought that of all three of his brothers, Andrew had been the least involved, but he seemed to have the same desire as the others. He wanted revenge, and he wanted to win by any means necessary.

"I thought better of you than that," Graham sighed.

"Then you have proven me right. You are a fool. You should have known that after all that happened, I would want nothing more to do with you. You got everything you wanted, Graham. You are wealthy, you are married, and you are the only one of us that either of our parents ever truly cared for."

"Father did not care for me."

"Notice how you did not disagree about Mother?"

"I was the only one to notice her. The three of you preferred Father because you thought it would help you."

"Graham, I was an infant. I did not know a thing about it, only that you did not want to be near us. Nothing has changed, it appears. We are done here."

"Andrew, I —"

"No. We are done. You know my terms. Unless there is something in it for me, I do not care. Other than that, you have done enough."

"That is not fair."

"Well, what can I say? I am just like our father. You are too, though you might wish you weren't."

"I am not him," he grumbled, "I am not and never will be."

"You can tell yourself that all you wish," Andrew smirked, "but there is no running from it. From one duke to the next, there are never any changes. Enjoy your wife and estates and wealth. I hope they are more important to you than we ever were."

Graham wanted to argue. He wanted to say something to prove he meant it, and that he truly did miss his brother, but he had to admit that Andrew was right to feel how he did. They had not grown up closely, the same way Samantha had with her sister. They had been too far apart all their lives, and now, there was nothing to repair. They were not brothers; they were strangers.

"I am sorry to have bothered you," Graham sighed. "I thought we would be able to move past it all."

Andrew did not respond. It was clear that he had said all that he needed to say, and that was the end of the conversation.

Graham thought about his brother's words throughout his journey home. He so badly wanted Andrew to be wrong because nothing in the world could have hurt him more than knowing he was anything like his father, but he did not know for sure. He saw glimpses of his father sometimes, and it made him uneasy.

However, he had seen more and more of his mother in himself since he met Samantha. She awakened something in him that he never knew existed, nor that he knew he wanted to see. She made him calmer, more protective, and he loved it about her. Part of wondered why he had left the house at all that morning when he could have spent time with his wife and her sister.

What he could do, though, was finish his surprise for her. Davis had located the correct flowers, and all that was left to do was decorate the pavilion for her. He so hoped that she would adore it.

"Ah, Your Grace!" Davis called when he saw him. "I was about to begin without you. Where have you been?"

"It does not matter," he replied gently, shaking his head. "Now, do you think this will be difficult to do?"

"Not particularly. It is nothing that we cannot handle at least."

"Wonderful, because I need something good to happen today."

They remained silent for a moment, and then Davis cleared his throat.

"Do you wish to discuss where you have been today?"

"I do not have a particular desire to, no, but I suppose it is best that I do."

"Well, I am here to listen when you are ready."

"I visited Andrew today."

Davis froze.

"I can see why you have returned out of sorts, then. Was it awful?"

"He wants nothing to do with me, and I cannot say I blame him."

"Give him time, and make sure he knows that you are there should he ever need you."

"He will only ever need my money. If that is how it is going to be, then I would rather not know him at all."

"He is angry, nothing more," Davis explained. "In your absence, the boy was lonely. He asked after you a lot, but nobody ever knew what to tell him. We hardly knew anything ourselves."

"I know, and there is nothing I regret more. I should have stayed for his sake. I left him with our father until the end. It is no wonder that he does not want to see me."

"Give him some time and then write to him. He will want to see you in time. He cared far too much about you not to."

"It is not only that, Davis. He told me I was like our father. I cannot help but think that he is right."

"Then you should discuss it with your wife once we are done here. She will be able to tell you."

"I will, but not tonight. Tonight will be about her. I so hope that she loves this, you know. She deserves to be happy."

"You care for her a great deal. If it is any help, that proves to me that you are nothing like your father."

"Here is hoping that you are right."

They continued to work in silence, and soon enough, their work was done. Despite feeling saddened at missing Diana's visit, Graham couldn't help but feel satisfied with how good their gift looked. Samantha would be happy with it, at least, and that was all that he cared about.

They had wrapped branches of hortensias around the pillars, with cornflowers placed between them, and then placed candles inside ready to be lit when she arrived. She would adore it, he was sure, and for the first time in a long time, everything would be simple and easy.

He simply had to get her, first.

Diana had left a few hours before. Graham knew she had left, but there was no way for him to say his goodbyes without Samantha questioning what he was doing, so he made a note to apologize for his absence when he saw her again. He also assumed that Samantha would be in the drawing room, likely having tea after a day of redecorating.

He was almost sad that she would eventually be finished. Her work made her shine in a way he had never seen anyone do before, and he couldn't help but be drawn to it. Not only that, but she was good at it. He needed to tell her that once more because he was quite aware that thanks to her father, she doubted herself a great deal. He had to prove the Earl wrong and make her feel good and capable.

Then he entered the drawing room.

Everything had changed. It was no longer dark and uninviting. It was no longer the room he would spend hours in with his mother.

In the center of it all, his wife was sitting and smiling, clearly having been waiting for him.

"Samantha," he whispered, "what have you done?"

"What is it?" she asked, her smile fading instantly and her face changing to one of confusion.

"What have you done ?"