Chapter 4 #2
“We have to stop doing this,” Laertes ground out, dazed.
“Indeed, we can’t keep doing this. Can we?
We all get struck down by love with lightning strikes, and it just seems improbable.
And mad. When in God’s name will the Briarwood business end?
It just feels as if each one of us is watching the other walk into some sort of trap and then laugh, cheer, and applaud when it happens. ”
“That’s an accurate depiction of the circumstances,” said Hector easily, without any hint of dismay, and then he took a sip of his brandy.
Deimos frowned at him, leaning on his billiard stick. “And I hope to God it never ends because that will mean that we will not have guarantee of true love.”
Ajax folded his arms across his very, very broad chest, which stretched the dark fabric of his coat. “Don’t you want a guarantee of true love, my boy?”
Laertes ground his teeth. “I suppose I should not curse a future Briarwood.”
“Exactly,” Perseus said. “Why would you wish such a thing upon me?”
Deimos nodded. “I want to have a true love…eventually. Not now, certainly. But in the future.”
“As do I,” Perseus seconded. “And if you wish that to end, this whole being struck by lightning, knowing the one?” Perseus arched a brow. “You’re condemning all of your cousins who are unwed to unhappy marriages.”
“How incredibly selfish of you,” Deimos tsked.
“Yes, but it just feels as if it’s all a mad farce,” he said. “Doesn’t it? Briarwood after Briarwood after Briarwood falling in love in a moment?”
“Life is a farce,” Ajax said merrily. “All Briarwoods know that. I thought you did too. The sooner you understand it, the happier you’ll be.”
“Much like Oliver, you live life like it’s a drama,” said Hector. “I don’t recommend that, Laertes.”
“It’s true,” Zephyr agreed, cradling his snifter in his broad hand. “I know you’ve the soul of a poet, boy, but it would be best if you could find a bit of comedy.”
Laertes scowled. “I definitely have comedy.”
“You are capable of a droll joke, it’s true,” Perseus said. “And you’re excellent at banter.”
“But even Grandmama knows… We all know.” Deimos hesitated and looked at his cousin and his uncles as if they might be able to save him as he said, “There’s just something a little bit…”
“What?” Laertes demanded.
“Melancholic about you,” Perseus finished.
“I bloody know that already,” he gritted.
“Oh good, then this shouldn’t be such a problem. You can’t have tragedy without comedy, can you, old boy?” Ajax asked jollily.
“She’d be excellent for you,” Deimos said. “There’s not a melancholic bone in her body.”
“That’s not true,” Laertes returned. “I saw it.”
“Bloody hell, what did you see?” Perseus asked as he circled the table, eyed a ball, and shot it towards a pocket.
“She’s…sad.”
“Isn’t everyone who’s not a Briarwood?” Hector queried, leaning his massive form against the polished sideboard.
“Oh, most definitely,” Zephyr replied.
“Anyone who isn’t a Briarwood is going to be wallowing in the pit of despair,” put in Ajax.
Laertes groaned. “That’s not true. We’ve all grown too overconfident about our own sense of self. We are not that special.”
Her words… Apparently, they’d taken effect.
The entire room of men grew silent.
“Not special, my boy?” the Duke of Westleigh drawled from the door.
He winced. Dear God, why had he said that when his Uncle Leander had come in?
“Well, I’m just pointing out something that was said to me rather recently. Everyone is special.”
The duke let out a long booming laugh. “Well, I’m glad to hear you’re being put in your place by a young lady who clearly knows how to run a gentleman through his paces. But I saw you with her. You left her quite flummoxed in return.”
“Did I?” Laertes queried.
The Duke of Westleigh’s eyes gleamed. “Oh, yes. I don’t think a gentleman has ever been able to run circles about Lady Serpahine. She’s accustomed to making the gentleman dance. Now, don’t be cruel about it, but I think you’re good for her.”
“It doesn’t matter if I’m good for her if she can’t marry me,” he said.
“Why can’t she marry you?” the Duke of Westleigh boomed.
“Because,” Deimos pointed out, “her mother wants her to marry a prince or an archduke.”
“Bloody hell,” Ajax drawled. “None of them are worth anything. They’ve all been raised with someone wiping their noses.”
“Couldn’t one argue that’s also true about dukes and earls?” Laertes asked.
His Uncle Leander, the duke, shuddered. “Not even a duke has some of the nonsense that goes on with those princes. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, and I don’t particularly wish being a duke on anyone either.”
“I’m just going to be an earl. And that’s not high enough for her mother,” Laertes said.
“Luckily, you’re not trying to marry her mother,” Ajax said merrily.
Laertes scowled. His beloved family wasn’t being helpful at all. “Look, I think it’s best if we don’t spend this Christmas trying to arrange another wedding. Don’t we have enough of them?”
“There are never enough weddings,” Ajax said.
Laertes let out a long sigh. A bad habit he was forming. “Please just leave me be and leave her be. She and I will go our separate ways. It’s very clear that she does not want—”
“My boy,” the duke cut in, “are you really going to betray yourself so easily?”
He gazed at his Uncle Leander. “I beg your pardon?”
His uncle took a step in, his long, crimson-lined black coat skimming the floor. “It is clear the way you two played together. Everyone in the room knew—”
“Everyone knows a lot of things,” he said. “And they need to stop.”
“It’s impossible for us,” Ajax said with a jaunty salute. “We are a very, very knowing, understanding, quickly seeing family.”
The duke nodded. “Well said, brother. So, Laertes, don’t let her ideas about what’s supposed to be get in the way for you two. Try to win her over.” His uncle winked. “Perhaps she can lower herself to accept an earl.”
Laertes groaned and tried to hit a billiard ball. His grip slipped, and he nearly ran the tip of the stick through the felt. “That doesn’t sound like very much fun.”
“Fun?” his uncle the duke echoed. “This is a battlefield, my boy, and there’s one sort of war the Briarwoods never lose.”
Laertes didn’t need to ask. He already knew. Love. The Briarwoods always won on the field of love. But maybe this time, a Briarwood had met their match.