“Brother, the last thing we need is a half-baked plan concocted over several bottles of merlot,” she cut him off.
The flush in her brother’s cheeks told her that this was exactly what had happened before. “The Duke is a dangerous man, Lydia. The rumors about him… What kind of brother would I be if I let you marry him?”
“What rumors?” She thought of the careful control the Duke had shown, the coldness on his face.
The scent of spices and pine filled her nose, and she ran a hand across her arm unconsciously.
“I… I would rather not say.” Landon tugged his collar and looked away from her.
“Tell me, Land. You cannot beg me not to marry him and then hide the truth from me. You have already hidden so much from me, and it has cost us dearly.” Lydia knew this was a low blow, but it had the intended effect.
“He is cold. Calculating.” Landon shivered.
“I got that impression tonight.” Lydia’s heart fluttered as she remembered the Duke’s piercing gaze. Some mad part of her wondered what color his eyes were.As though that even matters.“Though that is hardly the worst thing in the world.”
“He is ruthless, Lydia. He will do anything to get what he wants.” Landon’s hazel eyes were full of concern. “He never takes ‘no’ for an answer.”
“That just means he is ambitious.” She waved away his concerns, remembering the intensity of the Duke’s gaze. “Perhaps it will turn out to be a good thing. He may be more open to my ideas.”
Lydia forced herself not to add ‘unlike you’. She did not need to rub things in Landon’s face.
“I doubt it. And his ambition, it is not like yours. He is powerful, his duchy is one of the oldest around. He bankrupted a baron simply because the man offended him at a ball!” Landon got to his feet and began to pace.
She arched an eyebrow at her brother. “That sounds a little far-fetched. Perhaps it was a rather grave insult. The man does seem to place rather a lot of stock in honor and etiquette after all.”
“That is only a façade. It is not the truth of him.” Landon swallowed and leaned against his desk, a dark look on his face.
“What do you mean?” Lydia straightened in her chair, leaning forwards.
“Perhaps we should have a drink?” Landon was reaching towards the decanter of whiskey.
“I think a drink is the last thing we need.” She stood up and moved his hand away from the decanter. “Clear heads are necessary.”
“You may change your mind when you hear what I have to say.” Landon’s cheeks flushed. “It is… well it is not fit for gentle company.”
“I think we are past worrying about that sort of thing, don’t you?” Lydia rolled her eyes at him. “I am marrying the man; I may as well learn of his flaws now and not after the deed is done.”
“It is not… It is… He is not exactly um… lacking in female companionship. He is considered rather charismatic by the women of the ton. Brooding, but apparently that changes when he is at the club. Then he is all charm and easy grace. And that proves… quite alluring.”
“It sounds almost as though there are two versions of him.” Lydia laughed. “One charming rake and another dark, dangerous man.”
“You know how dangerous rakes can be, Lydia. How easy it is for them to seduce a woman into ruin.” Landon gave her a meaningful look.
“I will not make the same mistakes that mother did,” Lydia replied, trying to hide the fluttering of her heart. “Besides, I will be marrying a rake, not falling in love with one.”
“You do not know that.” Landon chewed on his lip, and Lydia resisted the urge to smooth down his rumpled hair.
“Brother, the Duke of Dashings is the last person I would fall in love with, trust me.” She thought of the moonlight dancing in his eyes and suppressed a shiver. “No matter how charming he is or how striking the line of his jaw is.”
“You are already starting to fall under his spell!” Landon exclaimed.
“I am not,” Lydia snapped, trying to ignore the prickle of unease spreading through her.
“You would not be the first to fall for his charms.” Landon clenched his jaw.
She made a dismissive motion. “Well, you know what they say. Forewarned is forearmed.”
“He will not be loyal to you.”
