could take the last shirt on his back and no one would dare question him about it. Such was the lot of younger sons and brothers.
Sweat gathered on Peregrin’s brow. “I could prove myself,” he croaked. “Have me run one of the northern estates for a year . . .”
“Sign it.”
“Brother, please.” The words dropped between them helplessly like birds shot down in flight.
Sebastian stilled.
The fear in his brother’s voice felt like a punch to the chest.
His own brother was afraid of him, as if he were some crazed tyrant, demanding unreasonable things.
Abruptly, he came to his feet. Wariness flashed across Peregrin’s face, and that only irritated him more. He rounded his desk, only just stopping short of grabbing his brother by the scruff of his neck.
“Stand up.”
Peregrin scrambled to his feet, and Sebastian gripped his shoulder and spun him toward the wall.
“Look at this,” he said, pointing at the rows of estate paintings. “This is not just about you. We have ten estates in two countries. Our family is one of the oldest in Britain, we are one of the biggest landholders in England, and if I fell off my horse and broke my neck tomorrow, all of this would be in your hands.” He turned his brother to face him. “Unless you are a capable man, our house would bury you like an avalanche, and you won’t be the only one going down. Do you think the lives of thousands of staff and tenants are a game? Christ, getting Castle Montgomery back is a mission in its own right, and not a day goes by when I don’t detest the fact that our family seat is in the hands of another man.”
Peregrin’s eyes flashed with the wild, reckless look of a man cornered. “But that is it,” he said. “I don’t want this.”
“What was that?”
“I can’t, don’t you see?” His voice was rising, actually rising. “I can’t. I can’t be you.”
“Keep your voice down,” Sebastian said, his own voice having dropped dangerously low.
Peregrin began to squirm in his grip. “You don’t care what happens to me; if I weren’t your heir, you wouldn’t even notice my existence, but I can’t be duke.”
The revelations fell like blows. Suddenly pieces shifted into place, and things that had long seemed senseless began making sense. Icy fury rose in his throat. “Is that what this has been about all along? Your absurd behavior? To demonstrate how unfit you are?”
Peregrin’s eyes were glittering hot, his hand clutching at Sebastian’s restraining arm. “It’s not my place to be duke.”
“Hereditary succession says it is, whether you like it or not,” Sebastian said coldly.
“You could have sons,” Peregrin shot back. “Why don’t you? Why do you make me pay for that?”
Suddenly they were toe to toe, his hand a fist in his brother’s jacket, and Peregrin’s face twisted with fury and disbelief. He still gave like a puppy in his grip.
It halted Sebastian in his tracks like a wall.
God. It shouldn’t even have come this far.
He dropped his hand and stepped back, his pulse thrumming in his neck.
Peregrin sagged into himself.
Well, bloody hell. Sebastian straightened his sleeves. He took another backward step, put more distance between them.
His brother’s cheeks were burning red, but he had pulled himself together, waiting, watching him defiantly and no doubt feeling sorry for himself.
Not that long ago, the boy had barely come up to his elbow, his hair a mop of fluffy blond curls. Not notice his existence? Sebastian shook his head. He would step in the path of a bullet for his brother, as reflexively as he drew breath.
When he spoke next, his voice was implacable. “In February, you will go to Plymouth. And I will forget the things you said today.”
Peregrin’s eyes shuttered. He gave a slow nod. “Yes, sir.” And he kept nodding as he dropped his gaze and stared at his shoes, and Sebastian understood that it was to force back tears.
He turned to look out the window. Against the black of night, he saw only his own distorted reflection.
“I advise you to see it as an opportunity and not as a punishment,” he said. He should probably have said something more, but as usual when tears were involved, no words came to mind. “Sign it. Then you may leave.”
* * *
Somewhere in her diary, his former wife said that he had a lump of ice where others had a heart. He was inclined to agree. He turned cold from the inside out when faced with adversity,