Chapter 4
Edmund awoke with tepid light attempting to come through the windows.
December in London wasn’t a time for grand skies or beauty, and he’d woken much later than usual.
At home, he had a routine, and it gave him comfort.
Being in London came with expectations that he wasn’t inclined to meet.
He wrapped his hand around his cockstand, memories of the night before flooding in, and he jerked himself off quickly.
The pale colours of the room, all pale blues and yellows were nothing like the black of Gabriel’s hair and the brilliant red of his dress, but it didn’t matter, his body remembered and dreamed and hoped for a future that would never happen.
He’d never dare to go back to the King’s Book Club.
He’d never see his angel again, but that also meant the memory of last night would never be tainted by a future disaster.
He spilled into the sheets, quickly, glad that he’d always have this memory.
One thing for himself, never ruined by anyone else.
He didn’t bother ringing for a servant, dressing himself in simple garb before heading directly to the kitchen.
The cook at Lamington House had always been kind to him and he could avoid his brother by eating in the kitchen, not the breakfast room.
As soon as he pushed on the door he regretted his choice, as loud voices flooded his senses.
He almost left again, except one of the voices tugged at a memory, and .
.. curse his curiosity ... he walked into the kitchen to spy Gabriel talking to Cook.
“Mr—” Edmund stopped. His face flamed with heat. He couldn’t remember the man’s surname, all he could remember was the sensation of that mouth on him. He’d been told, he was sure of it, but all he remembered was that he had the name of an angel. Gabriel.
“My Lord. Please sit. I have some fresh bread and perhaps you want some kippers?” Cook said.
“Just the bread and butter, please.” He saw down and ignored Gabriel, although a little thought kept chirping away.
Why was his angel in the kitchen on his brother’s town house?
And when did he start thinking of him as ‘his’ angel?
He was doomed. He should ask for clarification, but he ate his breakfast instead.
There was a familiarity between Gabriel and Cook, as if they’d known each other for a long time, and slowly he realised that they must be related.
They shared no colouring, Cook had big blue eyes and faded blonde hair with pale skin, but there was a certain something in their mannerisms. The more he looked the more he saw the similarities to Cook, Gabriel’s lack of height, the same cheekbones and jaw, the way Cook had that little cowlick in her fringe that she fussed with, and how Gabriel’s hair did the same.
The man was, on closer observation, obviously related to Cook.
He wondered if he should say something, when the back door opened slowly, and his nephew peered inside.
“George.” Edmund leaped to his feet. He’d been told George was staying back at Eton over the break, and that’s why he wasn’t here at Lamington House. But George held one finger to his lips.
“I’m not here.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s my fault. I upset His Grace, and he’s banished me from the estate.”
Cook bundled George into a hug, and Edmund held his breath. Somehow Cook knew that a tight hug was better than a light touch.
“It’s not your fault, darling boy,” Cook said.
“It is. I should know better than to bait him, but he called me selfish for not wanting to row for Eton. The Galforths have always rowed ever since it was invented at Eton, and it besmirched his good name to have a son so selfish that I wouldn’t do that.”
Edmund had rowed for Eton, and Oxford, because it was expected of him. He’d never contemplated that he had any other option. “I don’t understand.”
“His Grace told me I was selfish. I yelled back and said I wasn’t selfish, and it wasn’t fair to call me that when all he cared about was his image.”
“And then he banished you?” Edmund could hardly breath. The notion that someone might argue with his brother like this took more courage than Edmund had.
George stepped away from Cook’s hug and laughed. “Oh no. Not then. I left first. I was angry at him, at the way he was so mean to me, so I went to stay with a friend for a while. His father is a Duke too. Kelmscott.”
“That doesn’t sound like banishment.” Edmund still didn’t understand.
George shook his head. “He saved that up for the next time I came here. I needed a few things, and...” George sighed.
“I could’ve, should’ve, sent a servant, but I’d been talking to Kelmscott and he said all I needed to do was talk to His Grace and have a sensible discussion about it and His Grace would see that the rowing was less important than me.
I’m his heir, his son. Surely we could fix this with a conversation. ”
Edmund knew by the ache in his gut that what happened next wasn’t going to be an apology.
“He told me that I wasn’t welcome here, that I couldn’t show up without having gained permission from him first. He told me that the servants would all be told that I couldn’t be admitted to any of his lands.
That I was selfish, that I’d always been too dramatic to be the Duke, unworthy of being his heir, and he’d be looking at ways to disinherit me. ”
Cook made a bunch of noises about how dare he and so on, but Edmund knew it didn’t matter.
“He can’t do that without dismantling the entire aristocratic system. You are the heir, and you will inherit all entailed properties and the Dukedom, and there’s nothing he can do about it.”
“I know the law. It still hurts that he wants to try.”
“I don’t understand how a parent can abandon his own child,” Cook said.
Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Mama, it does you great credit to think like that. Sadly, there are many people out there whose parents have tossed them away for the smallest infringements. How many women are walking the streets because some man violated them, and the woman was blamed, giving them no options? How many boys are cast aside because they don’t want to do the same masculine work as their fathers?
The only difference here is that it was a Duke doing the discarding. ”
“But it makes no sense. George is a good boy. Why banish him? What is wrong with the man that he can do that to his own child?”
“You are trying to put logic and love onto a situation where there is clearly none. From the accounts of both George and Lord—”
“Thwaitepiddle.” Edmund supplied his title and Gabriel nodded in acknowledgement.
“From what you’ve both said, the Duke isn’t capable of love.
It ought to be obvious from the way he’s discarded his own child.
It’s irrational and immature. His Grace has said to George, ‘how dare you leave me, I’m throwing you out.
’ And in doing so, he regains control over a situation and takes away George’s choice. ”
“His Grace doesn’t like to be told no.” Edmund knew that better than anyone, and Gabriel had seen this with such clarity, he wondered if he hadn’t experienced something similar himself.
“I’m not selfish.” George’s voice had become tighter.
“No, my dear boy. He’s the selfish one, putting his image ahead of you as a person,” Cook said.
“But what happens when society finds out? Won’t that ruin his image?” George asked in a small voice, one that had lost all the pretention to bravery.
“Society won’t be forgiving of him discarding his heir. He’ll come around and ask you to come back,” Cook said. She’d worked here long enough that she understood how the ton worked, but she had missed a crucial point. Edmund gulped, as everything suddenly made sense.
“Why do you think I’m in town? Why do you think His Grace has a sudden interest in finding me a wife?
I’m the distraction. By squiring me around town, it proves that he’s invested in the family.
He’s using me so he can look good and blame you for leaving.
And I must do what he asks.” It was the only way to protect his roses.
“Kelmscott said he’d heard rumours around town that I was unworthy, that I’d been behaving inappropriately,” George’s eyes flooded with unshed tears.
“You are worthy. He is the inappropriate one,” Cook said.
Edmund wished he didn’t care so much for his roses.
This would be all be so much easier if he could do the impossible and destroy years of his own work and walk away.
His heart raced at the very idea of letting the Duke rip his babies out of the ground.
The senseless destruction would only hurt himself, not the Duke, who would only find another tool to control everyone around him.
“He’s already setting the scene to blame you for leaving. He’ll use my presence in society to demonstrate that he’s a family man and that he had no choice in taking actions against you.”
“If you know this, why are you here? Why are you enabling this?” Gabriel crossed his arms over his slender chest and Edmund closed his eyes against the accusation. How could he explain that he would lose everything he’d worked for if didn’t cooperate?