Chapter 10 #2
Theo scowled so darkly that Nicholas instinctively shut his mouth.
“Do you think you would enjoy yourself at this house party?” Theo asked, savoring his brandy rather than shooting it down the way Nicholas had.
Nicholas shrugged. “Probably. Depending on who else is there.”
“Then you should go.” Theo nodded decisively. “Kate is correct. You cannot halt your life forever simply to appease Mother. That isn’t fair, and I’ve allowed it to go on for too long without addressing the matter.”
Nicholas’s heart skipped. “But it would be irresponsible.”
He couldn’t believe his brother was arguing for something that could endanger their secret—or which might be perceived that way by the dowager duchess.
Wasn’t Theo supposed to be the responsible son? Nicholas was the frivolous rogue. What on earth was responsible for this switching of roles?
Theo reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin. “Shall we allow luck to guide us?”
“You’re mad,” Nicholas sputtered. He was the one who gambled, not Theo.
His brother’s lips twisted mirthlessly. “I’m tired of us living our lives for someone else, even if that person is our mother. Heads or tails?”
“Heads,” Nicholas replied automatically.
“All right. If it’s heads, you’ll go. If it’s tails, you’ll stay.” He flipped the coin into the air and caught it on the back of his hand.
A bust of King George stood face-up.
Heads.
Theo smirked. “There. The matter is decided. Unless you don’t want to for your own personal reasons—which I’d expect you to share with me—then you’re to accompany Lady Sophie to the Wembley house party.
” His expression softened as he pocketed the coin.
“If it helps, consider it an order from the viscount.”
Nicholas snorted. As if Theo had ever given him an order in his life. His brother may have spent several years as a miserable, moody bastard, but he’d never been one to expect those around him to follow his edicts.
Not like their mother.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to create any discord in the household.” And this would surely do that.
But Theo nodded. “I’m certain.”
Nicholas felt some sort of way about that, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
Slowly, hesitantly, he pushed up from his chair and left the office. Shutting the door behind himself, he lingered in the corridor, staring into space, until he realized that he was achieving nothing, and if he was going to stand idly around, he may as well do it somewhere more comfortable.
He started toward his bedroom, but as he climbed the stairs, Kate appeared at the top, walking down them.
“Have you seen Sophie since yesterday?” Kate asked, pausing a couple of steps above Nicholas so that their heads were level. “I feel bad for scolding her, and I’m worried she’s upset with me.”
Nicholas’s insides warmed. “Of course she isn’t. She knows you care for her. She probably just didn’t want to disappoint you.”
Kate sighed. “She hasn’t. That would be impossible. I just…. I was so reckless that I nearly ruined myself, and she can be far more reckless than I. She needs to be careful.”
“I’ll do my best to ensure she isn’t ruined,” Nicholas said.
Kate nodded, and her expression cleared. “Would you like to see the painting I’m currently working on?”
“I’d love to.”
She led him down the stairs and to the parlor she used as her studio while in London. Apparently it had the best light, not that Nicholas knew anything about that.
As usual, the easel was positioned in front of the window, and as they drew near, Nicholas realized that it wasn’t a landscape painting as Kate often did but a portrait. One of Sophie.
In the portrait, Sophie sat behind a piano, her elegant fingers on the keys, her hair in shades of red and gold that spilled in curls around her shoulders, and she had that same little furrow between her brows that he’d noticed only a short time earlier.
“It’s beautiful,” he breathed, dragging his eyes away from the figure to the half completed surroundings. He didn’t recognize the room she was in, so either Kate had invented it or it was a room he hadn’t seen in Carlisle House.
Kate smiled softly. “I’m proud of how it’s coming out.”
“You should be.” She’d managed to capture that elusive spark that made Sophie so vibrant. There was something about her eyes and the position of her mouth that made it clear this was no wilting society lady.
If he didn’t know Sophie, and he’d come across this painting, he’d certainly want to meet her.
“It helps that I have a lovely subject,” she said.
He turned toward her again. Her eyes were shining with an amusement he rarely found in them. “I can see how that would be helpful.”
Her lips twitched. “So, you agree?”
Oh, was that what this was about?
He rolled his eyes. “Only an idiot wouldn’t see how attractive Lady Sophie Carlisle is, and I may have plenty of flaws, but I’m no fool.”
She cocked her head. “Perhaps not. Have you given further thought to attending my ball?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. Had he been this frustrating when he’d been trying to urge Theo to consider remarrying? Was this his divine retribution?
“My answer remains as it was,” he gritted out. “Please excuse me. I have a letter to write.”