by Rose Pearson
The Duke tilted his head a little, his dark brown eyes narrowing as he gazed at Hugh, as though not quite believing he had come home. “Unwillingly returned, I’m sure.”
“Not in the least, father,” Rodger interrupted, surprising Hugh in the way he was so eager to stand up for him. “Hugh did not so much as hesitate, I assure you.” His green eyes turned towards Hugh, and for a moment, Hugh was filled with a respect for his brother – something he had not felt in a long time.
“I wanted to see you, father,” he murmured, truthfully. “When Wilson told me you were ill, of course, I wanted to return home to your side. I am relieved to see that you are in much better health.”
The Duke did not say anything for a moment, his eyes still fixed on Hugh’s face but, eventually, he gave a slight shrug. “As you can see, I am much improved. That dreadful fever could have gone one of two ways according to the doctor, but it seems I have more strength in me than he expected.” The corner of his mouth tipped upwards, a small smile playing about his lips. “I should be back on my feet within the month.”
“That I am relieved to hear,” Hugh replied, with every fiber of his being. “I do not consider myself ready to step into your shoes father.”
The laugh that came from the Duke’s lips was more of a scornful cackle than anything else, the harsh sound making Hugh cringe. There was more said in that one sound than in any of the letters his father had sent his way.
Rodger cleared his throat, nudging Hugh to step aside as trays of refreshments were brought in, as well as the Duke’s medicine on a separate tray. Rodger moved towards it at once, measuring it out correctly and pouring it into a glass before picking up the water jug and pouring a large measure of water into another glass, ready for his father to drink once the medicine had found its way down. Hugh sat down awkwardly, feeling as though he did not really belong in this drawing room. It was more than obvious that Rodger had been caring for his father in the way that Hugh ought to have been these last few weeks, and he could almost sense the deeper bond between them. It was not as though Hugh were jealous of such things but rather that he began to see just how poor a son he had been to the Duke. Shame climbed up his throat, sending heat into his face as he poured himself some coffee, setting one aside for Rodger and looking up enquiringly at his father, who gave him a curt nod.
With refreshments in hand, there settled an uncomfortable silence over the three of them. Nothing was said for a good few minutes whilst each of them drank their coffee and ate although the Duke with a little less gusto than his sons. Hugh was relieved to see that his father had not lost his appetite, thinking him a trifle thinner than when he had last seen him.
“I should tell you that I am to be married.”
Spluttering, Hugh coughed hard, sending bits of cake flying. Rodger lifted one eyebrow enquiringly, as though asking Hugh whether he needed assistance but otherwise did not move. Apparently, he was much less surprised that Hugh.
“Are you quite all right?” the Duke asked, mildly. “Good. Whilst I knew it would come as a surprise to you, Hugh, I did not think you would be so overcome.”
Managing to catch his breath, Hugh took a long sip of his coffee before he was able to speak. “I was not aware –”
“Well, that is your own fault,” the Duke interrupted, abruptly. “If you took an interest in anyone else’s life other than your own then you would know exactly what is going on in each of our lives. But, as it is, you like to think only of yourself and the rest of us simply do not matter.”
There was dead silence for a moment as the Duke shook his head, a few lines of sadness curving along his forehead. Hugh could find nothing to say, trying to tell himself that he need not be affected by anything his father said but finding it striking at his stubborn heart regardless.
“When did you propose, father?” Rodger asked, breaking the uneasy silence. “I am, of course, very glad for you.”
The Duke smiled, his happiness chasing away the last hints of sadness around his eyes. “Thank you, son. I proposed only yesterday, in fact. She will be here to visit later this afternoon and you can congratulate her yourself then.”
“Yesterday?” Hugh repeated, a little surprised. “You were not still abed, I hope?”
The smile faded from his father’s face. “Even if she was in my bed, you should be holding your tongue, Hugh. Do not think to chide me when you are –”
“I simply meant that I hoped you did not still have the fever, father,” Hugh interrupted, weakly. “I do not want Lady Armitage to contract whatever it was you had, that is all.” How he hated that his father thought the worst of him, even though he could not grow angry with him for doing so.
The Duke snorted, turning his face away from Hugh. “I can hardly believe that.”
Rodger shot Hugh a glance, his eyes a little sympathetic. “Father, I am sure Hugh meant well.”
There it was again, that support and compassion from his brother that Hugh knew he did not deserve. Giving him a quick smile, Hugh sat back in his chair and tried to smile, ignoring the tension that rolled in his stomach.
Eventually, his father lifted his gaze back to Hugh, studying him for a moment or two. “In answer to your question Hugh, no, I was not in my bed. The fever had left me, and I was able to sit in my chair.” His expression softened, his lips pulling into a gentle smile. “Lady Armitage has been very attentive to me. It was she who encouraged Rodger to go in search of you, and had she been able to care for me in place of your brother, I doubt you would have ever made your way back home. Ignoring letters is one of your specialties, is it not?”
Taking a deep breath, Hugh tried not to allow the prickle of annoyance in his father’s constant jibes to dig into his skin. “I am here now, father.”
“So you are,” his father muttered, not looking in the least bit pleased. “It is just as well I suppose since I know you are to return to London just as soon as you can be sure I will not be in the grave any time soon.”
Opening his mouth to argue, Hugh closed it again with a snap, knowing he had nothing to say in response. His father was quite right. He did intend to return to London as soon as he could, especially since he was already finding these first few hours rather tortuous, not to mention the previous three days of difficulty with Rodger.
“I am glad Lady Armitage took such good care of you, father,” he said, eventually. “I look forward to meeting her.” Rising from his chair, he set down his coffee cup and gave his father a slight bow. “I think I shall rest for a while if you don’t mind. It is good to see you in such a fine state of recovery, father.”
Rodger rose to his feet also, coming to stand by Hugh. “Perhaps we all ought to take a rest, father.”
The Duke’s eyes did look rather tired and so, after a moment of hesitation, he nodded.
“Would you like me to help you to your bedchamber?” Hugh asked, stepping towards the Duke. “I would be more than glad to.”
“No,” the Duke retorted, holding out a hand towards Rodger. “Not you. Rodger will do quite nicely.”
Stung, Hugh stepped back, feeling as though his father had slapped him hard across the face. Rodger helped his father up at once, shooting a glance towards Hugh that was missed entirely, given that Hugh had dropped his gaze to the floor.
“I will dine in my rooms this evening,” the Duke muttered, as Rodger began to walk with him towards the adjoining door that led to his bedchamber. “I would be glad if you would both join me afterward for some port.”
Hugh, surprised to have been invited, turned to see his father stopping in the doorway, pinning Hugh with a sharp gaze.
“Of course, father,” he replied, quickly, trying to inject a little levity into his voice. “I am sure we would both be glad to.”
The Duke nodded. “Good. I have some more news to impart to you, something that will fix the course of your future – for this Season, at least.”
“Father?” Hugh inquired, frowning.
Shaking his head, the D
uke gestured for Rodger to move forward. “Not now Hugh. I’ll talk to you about it later. You and Rodger may be returning to London sooner than you thought.”
The door closed behind the Duke and Rodger, leaving Hugh standing quietly in the drawing room, all alone. He did not know what to make of this, wondering what kind of news his father wished to impart to him. Something that would affect the rest of his Season in London? He prayed to goodness that his father had not betrothed him to some harpy or other, for that would prove quite difficult to remove himself from without causing a scandal.
Making his way towards his bedchamber, Hugh looked up at the portraits of the previous Dukes that hung on the wall in the hallway. They all had the same foreboding air that he knew so well, given that his father’s expression so often held the exact same look. Pausing, Hugh sighed heavily, quietly determined that he would not carry forward that particular trait. For all that he knew, he had disappointed his father in the way he lived his life, Hugh did not want to become that serious, sober-minded gentleman that barely ever cracked a smile. There had to be more to life than just business and accounting, even if one was the Duke of Westbrook.
His heart heavier than it had been for a long time, Hugh slowly began to walk towards his room, feeling the eyes of all the Dukes of Westbrook remaining on his back as he went. There was so much he had to live up to, so much he had to learn, and yet, he still wanted to turn his back on it all.
Chapter Five
Hugh had given himself plenty of time to think by the time dinner rolled around. He had allowed himself a good soak in the water, hoping that it might chase away his dark thoughts for a time, but all that had happened was that his mind became muddied. He was conflicted, caught between his determination to live just as he pleased, and the knowledge that his behavior had caused others a great deal of pain. It also troubled him that he knew so little about the other members of his family, which was even more disconcerting considering that he had never allowed it to bother him before. Olivia was with child, Rodger would say very little about his whereabouts and goings on and now his father was to be married! The lady that was to take the title of Duchess was entirely unknown to Hugh, but apparently, there had been a great connection built up between her and the Duke over the last few months – to the point that she was now to become the new Duchess of Westbrook!
Slamming his hand down on the dressing table, Hugh looked at himself in the mirror, seeing the anger and irritation reflected there. The happiness he had felt only a few days ago had already evaporated, leaving him entirely adrift. That was precisely how he felt, he realized, as though he were out at sea, alone. Lost. Without anyone to aid him.
And yet it had been an isolation of his own making. He had not cared for his family in any way, choosing his friends over them without even a second thought. Pleasure had been his only goal. Even now, he could not simply deny that pleasure was what he wanted, what he desired, but it was as though a shroud was beginning to be lifted from his face. It revealed to him that there were, perhaps, other things that were of a greater importance – a truth which he still attempted to deny.
Straightening his cravat and wondering why he was going to such a great effort when it would only be his brother at the table, Hugh sighed heavily to himself and shook his head at himself. He was doing this so that his father would have nothing to criticize, nothing to comment on when it came time for them to go to his drawing room. Was he truly that afraid of his father’s words? Or was it that he had simply had enough of them already today?
“You are being ridiculous, Seaworth,” he told himself, looking at his reflection again. “Get a hold of yourself.”
Standing tall, he cleared his throat and tried to push the gnawing anxiety aside. He did not want to betray any kind of weakness to his brother nor to his father. Making his way from the room, he hurried along the hallway and down the stairs, not wanting to be even a second late.
“Oh!”
Turning the corner rather swiftly, Hugh almost knocked right into a young lady who stumbled back in surprise. On instinct, Hugh reached out and caught her hand, helping to steady her for a moment.
“Do excuse me,” he said at once, vastly confused as to who this young lady might be. “I did not see you there.”
She was tall and slender, her skin alabaster smooth with huge green eyes that stared back at him in astonishment. The emerald green gown she wore matched her eyes perfectly, his gaze dropping to her slender waist for a moment. Her mouth was a little ajar, her cheeks a dusky pink as she straightened her skirts, her eyes now on the floor. A rapid awareness of just how beautiful she was had desire burning straight through him.
“I must apologize,” she mumbled, with all the elegance a lady should have. “I was just on my way upstairs. I confess I managed to get myself a little lost.”
A sudden thought had Hugh almost doubled over, his stomach tightening and skin prickling. This could not be Lady Armitage, could it? The lady in front of him was ages with Hugh, if not younger, almost the same as Olivia!
“Upstairs?” Hugh repeated, not quite sure what else to say.
“I must go, do excuse me,” she murmured, still not looking at him as she hurried past him.
“Of course,” Hugh mumbled, turning around to watch the lady go in a flurry of skirts, his stomach in knots as he kept his eyes on her.
Turning back around slowly, Hugh put his head in his hands for a moment, letting out a long, painful groan. That could not be his father’s betrothed, could it? There was no other explanation as to why she was in the manor house and, since she had not offered an introduction, he had very little idea as to who she was.
Shaking his head, Hugh felt a spark of anger settle in his heart, finding it repugnant that his father should take such a young bride and, even worse, that his brother had not tried to push him away from such a ridiculous match. What would come of it? The girl was young enough to get herself with child, even though the thought sickened Hugh completely. He did not want to have to look after a young Dowager duchess and his father’s offspring once the old man passed away!
Striding into the dining room, Hugh saw Rodger already sitting down, waiting patiently for him. Disregarding this completely, Hugh paced up and down the room, pointing one long finger at his brother.
“You are quite content with our father’s choice of bride, are you, then?”
Looking quite astonished, Rodger nodded slowly. “I am.”
“How can you be?” Hugh exclaimed, horrified. “The lady is entirely unsuitable!”
Rodger began to frown, concern written on his expression. “Do not tell me that you have bedded her, Hugh. That simply would not do.”
“Bedded her?” Hugh cried, wishing he could grab his brother and shake him, hard, to knock some sense into him. “No, of course I have not – but how can you expect our father to be happy with such a young bride as Lady Armitage! She is ages with Olivia at least, Rodger!”
He gazed into his brother’s eyes, leaning heavily on the table as his breathing came quick and fast. Rodger stared back at him for a moment, confusion written in the lines of his face.
“I do not think you have met Lady Armitage, if you think her ages with our sister, Seaworth,” he said, slowly. “Lady Armitage is close to the age our mother would have been had she lived.”
Hugh blinked, the anger slowly beginning to fade away from him.
“She was with father for a time this afternoon, but you did not come to meet her,” Rodger continued, quietly. “I can assure you she is a wonderful lady who does our father nothing but good – and is certainly nowhere near ages with Olivia. What on earth made you think that she was that young?” Lifting one eyebrow, he shook his head as though he had hit upon the answer. “Pray do not tell me that you have emptied the whiskey already.”
Completely puzzled, Hugh sat down slowly and studied his brother carefully. “You are being truthful with me? The lady I saw was young, as though only just out.”
“Perf
ectly,” Rodger replied, gesturing for the footmen to serve their first course now that Hugh was sitting down. “Lady Armitage cannot have been the lady you saw although I did not hear father mention any other guests.” He shrugged and poured a glass of wine for himself. “I can ask the butler if you wish.”
Entirely mystified, Hugh shook his head, lifting the glass to his lips and allowing the amber liquid to spread all through him. “No, do not worry. I shall speak to father about her. There must be some explanation.” He frowned, wondering who the young lady had been.
“Mayhap this is related to the news that our father spoke of earlier,” Rodger suggested, with a smile. “The news he promised to talk of once we had come to drink our port with him this evening.”
Something like fear clouded Hugh’s mind. The lady had been young enough to be out, which meant she might have been looking for a husband.
“Scared that she’s to be your wife?” Rodger chuckled, putting into words the fear that had stolen into Hugh’s heart. “I pity her greatly if that’s the case.”
Hugh did not smile, his expression grim. “I will choose my own wife when the time comes.”
Not seemingly particularly interested, Rodger shrugged, lifting another spoon of soup to his mouth. “We’ll have to just wait and see about that, won’t we?”
It was with a nervous anxiety swirling through his belly that Hugh made his way into his father’s drawing room. To his surprise, there was a lady sitting by the Duke, although certainly not the one he had seen before. She was in a dark grey gown with a light-colored shawl thrown over her shoulders. Her hair was dark brown with a few streaks of grey running through it, although only a few ringlets escaped from the tightly coiled bun on the back of her head. Her face, when she turned towards him, was kind, with light blue eyes that spoke of both weariness and compassion. Remembering that she had lost her first husband, Hugh wondered if this was where such an expression came from, or whether it was from a deep concern over the Duke and his recent illness.