Page 6 of The Duke’s Christmas Rejection

“Tell me honestly, brother.” He pauses for a moment, as if gathering either his thoughts or courage. “Are you settling in well with your role?”

“I would answer if I had a chance to. As it is, I’ve come directly here. Our sisters insisted that I make an appearance in time for Twelfth Night, and so I made it my mission to arrive, despite the damming snow and ice roads.”

“Yes. They seem quite adamant, though I cannot fathom why. They have not revealed it to me in any case.”

Smile tilting my lips, I conjure up the image of the omega who continues to plague my mind and the pretty blush that so easily crossed her face. “I believe I know. Seems to me they have designs on matching me with Miss Cynthia. In truth, I believe they hope the magic of this holiday will be the perfect backdrop for a proposal.”

Lewis stops, his body tensing. “But of course, you cannot marry her.”

“And why is that? You have an eye on the lady yourself?” My voice remains neutral, teasing even, however, deep inside, my stomach clenches as a flash of anger burns through me.

It is an odd and most unwelcome feeling. Has that vixen truly embedded herself in my brain that just the mere thought of another suitor sets my blood to boiling? Or is it that it’s my brother expressing an interest that has my vision blurring so?

“Nothing of the sort.” He scoffs, once more working through the cards. “Her station precludes any sort of interaction. If I am ever to wed, it will be with an Incomparable of the season and not some daughter of an unknown baron.”

“And what if your ‘Incomparable’ just happens to be such a daughter?” Foxford pipes up, all men taking an interest in our intimate conversation. “Stranger things have happened. I never even try to imagine what goes on in the Queen Omega’s mind when she chooses her diamond.”

“Then I will just have to wait for the next season,” Lewis grinds out, dealing the cards between us. “I refuse to allow Oxby Manor to be run by someone that cannot even fathom how a household should work. What knowledge does the daughter of a baron even have?”

“Surely, brother, you cannot mean to tell me that they know nothing,” I retort, somehow feeling the tiniest niggle of irritation at his prejudice. “They are still trained as well as any future duchess.” I long to rub at my chest to dispel the dread I feel thumping through my heart.

“Come now. Surely you cannot be that naive. The daughter of a baron is not afforded the same luxuries or the same breeding. No. I cannot allow the Barrington name to be given to someone that is unable to uphold the heavy yoke we need to bear.”

“Is the yoke all that heavy? Or do you insist on making it so? That is the important question.”

With a sigh, he sets down his cards and leans forward, spearing me with an intense stare. “We have a duty and an obligation to run our lands to the best of our ability. It is not just us, our family, that have to be tended to. There are workers of all stations that depend on me, and now you when you take your seat at Langwell Grove.”

My body stills as his words sink in. As a soldier and second son, I’ve never had to think of such things. I was never meant to be a duke, and yet, by a stroke of the quill, the burden has been thrust upon me.

When Father was alive, he tended to everything with a shrewdness and grace I’d never known before. And when he passed, my brother took on that role willingly, without complaint. It is his birthright, and as such, he takes it far more seriously than I could ever.

Now, it is my turn. No longer can I go to war, caring only for the men under me. Until now, I never truly thought about the repercussions. Anger burns in my gut, just as strong as the brandy singeing my throat. I continue to mull over his words, irritated at what this ‘honor’ is costing me.

Though I am not of a marriage mind, I am still disheartened to know that Miss Cynthia is an illogical choice. As much as her scent calls to me, as much as the idea of forbidden fruit is intriguing, I must put Miss Cynthia out of my mind. Unfortunately, my brother, the arrogant ass that he is, is right.

I shall never admit it to him, thus causing his head to swell even further and make him far more insufferable, but I need to focus on someone well acquainted with the duties that befall a duchess. Truthfully, I now worry that the daughter of a baron cannot give me what I need. Just like in battle, I must see to duty first and affection second.

“Come now,” Foxford jabs. “You think to outmaneuver these conniving mamas? They will throw every daughter at you, omega or otherwise. I wager not even you can outsmart them.”

“Let them try,” Lewis growls out, his chest vibrating with irritation. “I shall not be made a fool by some chit in a skirt, no matter how pretty.”

Foxford continues, pressing his luck as the others gather around. “Care to make a bet?” He pauses gesturing to all of us. “Let us make this a wager for all.” We watch, dumbstruck as he walks over to an ornate vase and moves it over to our card table.

“You wish to bet me my own vase, Foxford? I knew you could be daft but-”

“No, Whiteport,” he snaps. “We shall all make an accord. For each one that gets married, they must put a thousand pounds into this vase. The last of us to wed gets all the money.”

“Are you quite mad?” Blackport retorts. “A thousand pounds each to stay a bachelor the longest? And I supposed as the proponent of this bet, you have a sure-fire way of remaining unattached?”

He raises his hands, a grin widening on his face. “I assure you I am in the same boat as you six. I have neither special means nor methods to avoid the ravenous mamas of the Ton, but a sheer iron will to win all the money.”

“Fat chance.” We all turn and stare at the taciturn Redleigh. “With a face like mine, I will win that money for sure.”

“And what of your ward?” I remark, trying in vain to remember her age and face.

For a moment, he remains silent, staring back into the fire, but there’s no mistaking the hard set of his shoulders. “She cowers from me, staying hidden in her rooms day and night. Not even the promise of a ball has tempted her to come forth.”

Lewis frowns. “Then perhaps we should send our sisters to stay with you for a bit, with their governess, of course, luring the recalcitrant miss out of the shadows. They are quite adept at causing a ruckus.”