“No, you can’t. It’s private. For heaven’s sake, let’s change the subject.”
Naturally, this opened up a long tableau of silence.
“There’s no point pretending that it isn’t happening,” Alexander said quietly, once the silence got to be too much. “I have done my best to ignore it all, but there’s no point.”
“Try harder, then,” Henry said acidly, and that just about killed conversation until the dessert course.
***
After the meal, Katherine and Timothy retreated to the drawing room, ostensibly to make uncomfortable conversation with their mother. William disappeared, probably to hover over that wretched locket like a man possessed, and that left Henry and Alexander to do what they wanted.
They decided to play a game of billiards.
“How’s Mother doing, then?” Henry asked eventually.
“Didn’t you see her when you came back? Although, of course, you moved out the day after, so I daresay you didn’t have time to discuss anything important.”
Henry rolled his eyes. “Of course I saw her and spoke to her. She looks dreadfully thin.”
Alexander shrugged. “Without Father, she’s like an unmoored boat, drifting along with the current. She’s not happy that we aren’t mourning him and calling this disgrace of a will anopportunity. She’s still offended that we had the gall to be upset about being forced into marriage or lose our money.”
“I will never understand that woman.”
“Steady on,” Alexander remarked, eyeing Henry as he prepared to take his shot. “That’s still our mother you’re talking about.”
There was a little more silence after that, broken only by the gentle clinking of billiard balls. Henry hated competitive games of any kind, starting with his dreadful school that had taken entirely too serious an approach to cricket. However, itwasnice to play a relaxed game with one of his brothers every now and then.
Since William never bothered with sports, it would have to be Alexander.
Alexander neatly potted a ball, and straightened up with a grin.
“Your turn.”
He snatched up a glass of wine, draining it at once. The smile faded from Henry’s face. How many glasses of wine had his brother had? Too many, and there had already been brandy on his breath even before dinner.
Henry eyed him closely, chewing his lower lip. Alexander was plumper than when Henry had left, but not in a healthy way. He was pallid, pale under his olive skin, which was worryingly waxy, and there were dark circles around his eyes. His hazel eyes, more green to Henry’s brown, were bloodshot. He needed a haircut, and his clothes didn’t sit right on his frame.
“What are you staring at?” Alexander asked eventually, shooting him a curious glance. “Is everything alright?”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Henry responded, recovering himself. “So, without Katherine’s beady eye upon us, we should talk about… about the business, you know.”
There was no need to explain whatthe businessmeant. It meant their deadline, their ultimatum, the thing all three of the Willenshire boys could not go an hour without thinking.
Their inheritance, and what they would have to do to get it.
“We all expected you to come back with some Parisian woman who didn’t speak a word of English,” Alexander commented, refilling his glass of wine.
“And I expectedyouto have half a dozen eligible Society beauties on your arm. You’ve always been the charming one.”
It was a clumsy compliment – Henry was not used to paying them – but Alexander smiled anyway.
“I suppose it does work to our advantage that this whole business is a secret,” he commented. “Nobody knows that we’re penniless unless we marry.”
“I don’t intend to be penniless. I’m starting on a new business venture – the porcelain business.”
Henry wasn’t sure what he’d expected from his brother at this news, but he certainly hadn’t expected a long sigh.
“Oh, Henry.”
