A look of pinched frustration crossed her features. “Money and land, of course. You’ve seen the debt. We cannot hold off the collectors much longer.”
“Why should I have to bail out my uncle and father’s bad investments?”
“Because,” she hissed, “you do not want to bring embarrassment to the family title.”
She had a point. I’d worked too hard to become a mockery. “I have investments I’m hoping will come to fruition.”
She scoffed. “And what about your duty? Your ancestral line?”
I smiled. “Do you truly think I care? Let Christopher lead the charge.”
“Christopher? I’d rather pick a fishmonger from the street.”
“Now that would be a wonderful thing to behold.”
Producing a child, continuing the line, increasing the fortune; it was the one power I held over my parents. Like most titled gentry, they were so sure we were special, God’s chosen ones. And it was our duty to see the line continue. Perhaps I didn’t go that far, but I did feel a certain pride when I looked out over our land. Greed, some would say. If I was being honest, I’d admit I didn’t want it to go to Christopher. It was mine, and I’d damned well earned it.
“No, I don’t suppose you care.” She set her spoon down. “However, I know you care about your brother.”
She would sacrifice her second son, merely to get what she wanted? Did I care? Barely. The man had been a thorn in my side since we were lads and he’d realized neither of my parents held interest in him. Jealousy had ruined any relationship we might have had. “Try again, Mother.”
“You don’t care if we cut him off? Your only brother?”
I shrugged. “About time he learned to get by on his own.”
She fell silent, studying me. They were vicious, doing everything in their power to get what they wanted, and they wanted to rule.
“If not your brother…what about Tommy?”
Fury mixed with surprise. I forced myself to lift my drink with a steady hand, and took a sip. It wasn’t as if I truly cared about the boy, but the fact that she was trying to blackmail me didn’t sit well. Hell, I should have expected it.
“I haven’t the slightest idea who you’re referring to.”
“You think I don’t know your secrets?” She shrugged. “There are ways. Always ways to get what you want. Who is the boy? A bastard child?” She clicked her tongue. “Truly, my dear, I expected better of you.”
I would have to move Tommy to another school. He wouldn’t like it, not when he’d settled in so well. Damnation. I’d been careful. So bloody careful. How had she uncovered the truth?
“Mother!” Christopher strolled into the room. “How lovely to see you. What have I missed?”
Showing emotion would get me nowhere. “Mother has come here to force me to marry.”
He arched a brow. “How Medieval.”
“Not forcing.” She stood, smoothing down her skirts. “It is your duty. One you were conceived for.”
“And here I thought you’d had us to appease your maternal love of babies,” Christopher murmured.
“Enough with games,” she snapped. “You both tire me.”
Chris glanced my way, amusement in his brown gaze. This was my life. It had been my life since my uncle had died. Trained to carry on the family line. Destined to rule. But it would be worth it in the end.
She started toward the door, in a rustle of skirts. “Christopher, my dear?”
“Yes, Mother?”
“Make sure whichever maid or maids you’ve slept with are gone before the sun sets.”
Chris’ lips grew pinched. “Yes, Mother.”
“And Gabriel, I expect to see you Wednesday for your weekly visit with your father.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t want to miss such delightful company.”
But she didn’t hear, she was already gone. Force me to marry? I stared out the window, watching snowflakes twist and twirl, as her carriage started down the street.
Chris released a long, drawn out breath and sank onto the settee. “Thank God.”
I raised a brow.
He shrugged. “For me anyway. For you…well, sorry.”
If he wasn’t my brother…
“You’re twenty-five, Gabe. Surely you realized you would have to marry. And I’m sure at the top of that list will be a woman who will bring you land, power, money, or all three.” He leaned back and stacked his hands behind his head. “Doesn’t mean you can’t still have fun. You, my brother, need a good fuck.”
I stared hard at him. “Mother wants me to marry Miranda Styles.”
It was there, a flash of surprise, followed by annoyance. A look that he covered quickly with a smirk.