Chapter 4
“A letter for you, Mr. Blackwell,” Albert said, bowing slightly as he presented it to Nicholas.
“Thank you.” Nicholas took it from the portly butler, eyeing the crest warily. It was either a letter from his former lover, Lady Julianne Bright, or a missive from her husband.
Either way, he didn’t look forward to opening it.
Albert left silently, and Nicholas carried the letter to his desk and used an ornate letter opener to break the seal. He skimmed the neat calligraphy and sighed.
Indeed, it was an invitation from Julianne to join her at a notorious masked ball hosted by the wealthy bastard son of an earl.
Once upon a time, Nicholas might have been excited by such an invitation, but now, when he searched within himself, all he found was a kernel of dread and a heavy sensation in his gut.
For some reason, he’d grown tired of the thrill he used to get from engaging in liaisons with beautiful women. He was especially wary of Julianne. She’d been widowed when they’d first fallen into bed together, but she’d since remarried, and Lord Bright was a decent sort.
Nicholas had been taken aback when the man had made it clear—albeit in an indirect way—that he knew about his wife’s history with Nicholas and would be upset if anything further happened between them.
Nicholas was far from virtuous, but he tried not to hurt people who didn’t deserve it, so he’d sworn to keep his distance from Julianne.
Now, he reached for his quill and tapped it against his chin as he considered how best to respond. He didn’t want to offend her, but he obviously couldn’t accept the invitation. He’d already told her that nothing more could come of their affair, but she didn’t like to hear the word “no.”
Eventually, he kept his note brief, thanking her for thinking of him but giving his regrets that he was otherwise engaged and would not be able to attend.
That done, he called for a maid and asked the girl to run the letter to Albert so he could arrange for it to be delivered. As she departed, Theo strode up the corridor, clad in the clothes he usually reserved for the House of Lords.
“Who are you sending notes to?” he asked, one eyebrow hitched up.
“Lady Bright.” Nicholas smoothed his shirt and didn’t meet his brother’s eyes because he didn’t want to see the disapproval he knew would be in them. “She invited me to a masked ball. I declined.”
“Ah.”
At that, Nicholas did raise his gaze. Theo was studying him thoughtfully.
“Are you all right?” Theo asked, cocking his head as if Nicholas were an interesting new form of human. “You haven’t seemed yourself recently.”
The words struck at a vulnerable spot in Nicholas’s heart, and he quickly covered the impact with a laugh and a smile. “All is well. Perhaps I’m simply maturing.”
“Perhaps,” Theo mused, those dark eyes seeing too much.
Nicholas’s skin crawled. He kept his mouth firmly shut. He didn’t want to admit to his brother—who’d suffered real hardship—that he felt strangely hollow inside and his usual occupations weren’t filling the void.
Nicholas spent his days sleeping late, riding horses, and lolling about town. He had no cause to complain.
Theo’s expression eased, as if he’d reached a conclusion. “I’ve had a frustrating session at the House of Lords, and I need to work out my anger. Will you spar with me?”
Nicholas nodded, grateful for the reprieve. “It’s been a while since we went a round. What was the matter of discussion?”
Theo gritted his teeth and growled. “Slavery. The ethics of the matter are clear to anyone with eyes, but enough of my peers keep slaves that it’s difficult to reach a consensus because they refuse to lose their free labor.”
“I understand the need to hit something. Slavery should have been abolished years ago. It would have been if so many members of the House of Lords weren’t selfish, immoral pricks.”
“I’m well aware.” Theo gestured toward the room he used for boxing. “Meet back there in ten minutes.”
“Gladly.”
Nicholas turned and retreated to his room, where he changed into a loose tunic and roomy trousers. He opened the drawer he stored his hand wraps in and wound the two lengths of fabric around his hands one at a time.
Theo kept his wraps in the boxing room. Nicholas used to, but his brother spent far more time there than he did, and after Theo had mistaken Nicholas’s wraps for his own a handful of times, Nicholas had decided to move them.
He didn’t like to think of his wraps having been drenched in his brother’s sweat.
He met Theo in the boxing room. His brother had unclipped the heavy bag that usually hung from the ceiling and cleared the floor so that they’d have plenty of space. The carpet was thick, providing a small amount of padding in case either of them tripped or were knocked to the floor.
“Take it easy on me,” Nicholas said as they began to circle each other. “You know I don’t train as often as you do.”
Theo regularly sparred with other gentlemen at a local club, but Nicholas never joined him because men who sparred together like that would definitely see enough of each other to realize that the two of them looked more alike than brothers should.
He’d made the mistake of mentioning to their mother once that he might like to accompany Theo to his club, and she’d been discomposed for days.
She did so like her drama.
Theo struck first with a quick, sharp jab that Nicholas blocked with his forearms.
“Don’t bruise my face,” Theo rasped as they continued circling. “It will upset Kate.”
Nicholas smirked. “Surely she’s used to you coming home covered in bruises by now.”
“Fuck you.” The words lacked heat. “I win plenty.”
“That doesn’t mean you don’t get hit.”
Nicholas jabbed just as Theo had before and then aimed lower when Theo blocked it, thumping him in the gut.
Theo didn’t react except to bop Nicholas on the side of his head while his guard was down.
He blinked as his vision swam for a moment, but the blow hadn’t been too hard, and it adjusted quickly. He backed off, waiting for Theo to take the initiative this time.
They continued on, exchanging punches every now and then, until both brothers had grown weary of being so careful, and they came at each other with less forethought and more aggression.
Theo’s right fist plowed toward Nicholas, and he dodged it and aimed for his brother’s torso again, then wrapped his arms around Theo and wrestled him to the floor.
“Foul,” Theo grunted, trying to throw him off. “Wrestling isn’t part of boxing.”
Nicholas grinned down at him. “I don’t see anyone officiating. Let’s grapple.”
Theo rolled his eyes but indulged Nicholas. Adrenaline thrummed in Nicholas’s veins as he and his brother used their arms and legs to move each other around, both vying for the upper hand.
Wrestling in such a way might not be as bloodthirsty as boxing, but it was an excellent way to wring every extra drop of energy from his body.
He’d been in a funk when Theo had asked to spar, but he certainly wasn’t anymore.
He bared his teeth as Theo flipped him, and his back hit the floor, knocking the air from him.
Racking his brain, he tried to remember how to escape a position like this one, but before his brain supplied any options, Theo had maneuvered him into a position where, if he tried to break free, he’d likely snap his arm.
“I cede,” Nicholas barked, tension seeping from his muscles when Theo released him. He flopped his head to the ground, panting. “You win.”
“Do you feel better, though?” Theo asked, levering himself into a cross-legged position. “Because I do.”
“Much.”
Theo scrambled to his feet and offered his hand to Nicholas, helping him up. “Right. I must clean off and visit Ollie.”
“Do you need cuddles with the baby after beating the stuffing out of me?” Nicholas teased.
Theo grinned, and the sight of it warmed Nicholas inside. For so many years, his brother had been cold and distant, lost in his own misery. Marrying Kate had been the best thing to ever happen to him.
Theo opened the door, and they spilled out into the corridor, only to come face-to-face with the lady in question.
Kate crinkled her nose as she took them in. “Please tell me no one is hurt.”
“We’re both fine,” Theo said, bending to kiss her cheek.
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously but then nodded. “Will you join me in the ballroom in half an hour? There’s a matter I’d like to discuss with you both.”
“Both of us?” Nicholas clarified, even though she’d said as much. It was just unusual for her to seek his opinion on household matters, which she typically had well in hand.
She smiled. “If you’ve the time.”
“For you? Of course.”
Theo rolled his eyes and muttered something about flirting. As if Nicholas would really flirt with his brother’s wife.
He just liked to tease.
Nicholas found one of the maids before going to his room and asked for a basin of water to be brought to him. He didn’t have time for a proper bath, but he refused to attend a family meeting stinking of stale sweat. A quick wash would do the job.
He sat on the chair at his desk and unwrapped his hands, noting the deep grooves in his skin left from where he’d pulled the fabric a little too tight.
Never mind. The grooves would fade within the house, and no one at home would look at him sideways.
They all knew that he and Theo enjoyed the occasional casual bout.
It took only a couple of minutes to select a new ensemble, and by that time, a footman was at the door with a basin. He left the basin for Nicholas. When he dipped his fingers in, the water was cold, but given he’d asked for it to be brought to him immediately, that wasn’t a surprise.
He removed his boxing clothes, washed off the layer of sweat, dried, and dressed with a few minutes to spare, so he stopped by the kitchen to request a tray of tea before heading to the ballroom.
Kate and the dowager viscountess were seated on antique chairs against the far wall, with a small table positioned in front of them. Kate’s sketchbook sat in the center.