No Duke Will Do - Eva Devon Page 0,49

said simply but warily. Jamie seemed full of ire.

Jamie rolled his eyes. “Love? You and I can’t even fathom the meaning of the word.”

Heath roiled inside. It wasn’t true. He had to believe that he could feel love and know it. “I’m not you, Jamie.”

“No, you’re not,” Jamie agreed, not even bothering to pour the brandy into a snifter. He lifted the cut crystal to his lips and took a long drink, his eyes blazing. “But you came out of the same bloody womb as I did, didn’t you? And you were left just like I was.”

“That doesn’t mean we’re condemned to—”

“It means something,” Jamie reminded, his chest expanding in a long breath. “And I don’t believe she can truly love someone like you. Someone like that doesn’t love people like us.”

“People like us.” He wanted to contradict his brother with no hint of doubt. And yet, he felt a flicker of it. Mary might love him. . . But were there conditions? “Jamie, you’re still living in the land of pain, and your story is not mine.”

“Oh, hark at you,” Jamie all but sang. “You’ve gone all positively genteel. You’ve been rubbing your shoulders so long with aristocrats, you’re talking like one now.”

Perhaps it was true.

Perhaps he had been rubbing shoulders with aristocrats so long that he saw the world differently than his brother could. “I want you to go,” Heath said.

Jamie laughed, a dark rumble.

He’d been coming and going for months, especially after a disastrous stint with Blackstone’s wife. An incident Blackstone had not attributed to Heath, thank God.

Jamie had claimed to want to stay, but he couldn’t.

Jamie was an untethered soul, who couldn’t seem to stay still if he tried. He’d looked for ways to make money, work the streets, and was causing trouble wherever he went.

“I’m just trying to protect you,” he bit out. “You’re my brother.”

“I know,” Heath said firmly, sensing his brother’s pain. “But what you’re doing? It’s not protecting me. It’s making things bloody difficult.”

Jamie’s eyes narrowed. “I’m just telling the truth.”

“The truth?” Heath challenged.

Jamie crossed the office, slammed the brandy bottle down on the desk, then splayed his hands on the surface. “Yes. If she’s so in love with you, does her family know? Have they embraced you with open arms?”

Heath grimaced. “No.”

“There you go,” Jamie said, obviously taking no pleasure in his vindication. “She doesn’t love you, and she’s not going to. Not a girl like that.”

“We’re married,” Heath breathed.

Jamie gaped at him until comprehension dawned in his dark eyes, and his shoulders slumped.

“Ye’re what?” Jamie asked. He pulled back from the desk and wiped his hands over his face. Then he laughed, a dark, rich, rolling sound. “Oh, brother, Oi never took you for a fool. Ye harnessed yourself to a life of pain, ye have.”

He wanted to deny it fiercely. No, he’d chosen joy. He’d chosen hope.

“She’ll never accept you,” Jamie warned, his voice ragged. “Not really, not in the end. In the end, she’s going to sneer down her nose at you and look at you like the low-born fool ye are. Ye were born in the mud, and she’ll never forget it.”

Heath looked away. It wasn’t true. Mary wasn’t like that. He knew it.

“And her family?” Jamie let out a sound of disgust. “Do ye think they’re going to invite you over for Christmas, share in the pudding? Are ye going to go over for family dinners? Go to their balls and such? Just imagine when yer first mongrel gets born, that will be a treat, won’t it?” Jamie said.

“Enough!” Heath roared, vaulting to his feet and knocking a stack of books over on his polished mahogany desk.

“It’s not enough,” Jamie gritted. “It’s the truth.”

Heath closed his eyes. He didn’t want this discord. He didn’t want to let Jamie’s words seep into his brain and take root. . . But they already had. “There’s no going back now. She’s my wife.”

“She’s your wife,” Jamie all but whispered, his face suddenly tired. “Indeed, she is, and she’s going to be your misery, your stone around your neck.”

“Don’t you dare speak about Mary like that,” Heath growled.

“Or what?” Jamie countered. “Ye’re going to pop me one? Go ahead if it makes ye feel better. Oi’m just telling you the thoughts that are already in your head. Oi can see it. Ye’ve been moping around here, not like a man in love, but a man who’s been led to the gallows.”

Jamie pointed at him and bit out. “I can see

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