Henry jerked awake and took a moment or two to recall where he was.
Of course,he thought grimly.I’m home.
Home had never had the warm, safe connotations for the Willenshire siblings that it did for others. Home was shouting, home was mind games and taut family dinners, home was unrealistic expectations and a father who seemed to take joy in making his children squirm.
Home was, in short, not somewhere you would want to be. It was the reason why, even after the old Duke was gone, Henry had spent money he could ill afford to rent himself an apartment.
He gradually pieced together the shattered remnants of last night, and recalled stumbling into the family carriage, cursing himself for coming on horseback, and falling asleep in the carriage. The footmen must have manhandled him out of the carriage and up to his childhood bedroom.
How humiliating.
They’re probably used to Alexander,he comforted himself.
It didn’t really help.
Hauling himself into a sitting position, Henry squeezed his eyes shut against the throb of pain in his temples. Ugh. He’d drunk too much champagne and wine last night, but it had been necessary to get himself through the night.
His feet hurt, because once they’d gone back inside the ballroom, both of them were swamped with ladies and their mammas, and there was really nothing to do but allow oneself to be bullied into dance after dance.
Henry’s conversation with his older brother still rang in his head.
I want to be in love, Henry.
There was something unsettling about the stoic, serious William speaking so miserably, so yearningly. Henry had never known that his brother had dreams of a love-match. It made their current situation even more unfair.
William had always been the one to make sacrifices. How often had he confessed to something he hadn’t done when they were children, to get one of his siblings out of trouble? As the oldest boy and the heir, William had taken the brunt of their father’s cruelty.
“I’m making a man out of you,” the old Duke had said, more times than Henry could count.
I hope he’s burning in Hell, the old wretch,Henry thought, with a venomous rush of anger that left him shaking.He stole our lives away, and I bet he laughed as he did it.
But there was no point sitting in bed and wallowing. The clock read half past nine, so the family was probably sitting down to breakfast now. Henry felt queasy, and his head still throbbed, but he knew from past experience that a nice cup of tea and a plateful of breakfast would do him good.
Besides, it would be nice to eat something cooked up in the family kitchen, by the reliable old family cook, instead of the rubbery eggs poor Edward served up every now and then.
So, Henry threw back the sheets and forced himself to get out of bed, then began the laborious task of dressing for the day.
“Morning, all,” Henry mumbled, when he stepped into the dining room.
The Dowager was there – she’d always come down to breakfast instead of taking hers in bed, as the old Duke had disapproved of taking breakfast in bed – and so were the rest of them. Even Katherine had stayed over last night, although her poor husband was nowhere to be seen. No doubt last night’s socializing had wrung him out, and he was in the library recovering.
“Morning,” William remarked, eyes on his boiled egg.
It was going to be that kind of morning, then. Henry muttered something that could be taken forgood morning, and then slipped into his usual seat.
Odd that they left it free for him, after all this time.
For a few moments, the family ate in silence. Everybody was here, with the exception of Timothy and, of course, Alexander. Henry longed to ask what state his younger brother was in, but not in front of their mother. The Dowager, it seemed, was pretending that her family was not falling apart like a soggy sponge-cake, andinstead continued to venerate the memory of the old Duke, imagining that her children loved him as she did.
Henry wasn’t going to be the one to burst her bubble once and for all.
His unspoken question was answered soon, anyway. There was a crashing sound from the hall, making them all jump, followed by an all-too-familiar voice.
“I’m fine, I’m fine, curse you!” Alexander slurred; voice muffled but still sounding irritated. Henry’s heart sank.
He’s still drunk.
The door was shouldered open, flinging open with a bang, and Alexander came staggering in. His eyes were glittering and there were red spots burning in his cheeks, and Henry’s heart sank.
