Crofton clearly meant to object, but she didn’t allow him the opportunity to do so.
“You need a connection to people who are liked and who are respected if you have any hope of tiptoeing closer to that yourself and gaining some of the standing and admiration that you crave. But part of the reason you are disliked is that you are a cruel, heartless, and unfeeling person.”
His eyes widened with shock. From her seat nearby, Julia covered her mouth with her hand, looking away, no doubt to hide her amusement.
“You are only currently tolerated in Society because you are a duke,” Céleste said. “But you have no actual acceptance or influence, because you are a horrid little rat.”
Céleste swore she heard the start of a tiny laugh from Julia.
“Any further evidence of the defects in your character would likely prove insurmountable, leaving you stuck forever being seen as who and what you are.” Céleste leaned forward a little, making certain she had his full attention. “And thatterrifiesyou.”
Beneath the bravado Crofton was attempting was a very obvious worry. She hadn’t guessed wrong, then.
“Treat your brother like a pariah, like a piece of meat that’s gone off, and all of Society will see that as proof of what they already suspect you to be, and you will never gain the standing or respect you are looking for.”
“You are going toencourageme to be nice to my brother?”
She gave him a dry look. “That was just a bit of advice, Your Grace. The encouragement comes next.”
He was growing increasingly wary. “In what form?”
She let a smile slowly spread across her face, watching him start to squirm. “Your father was involved in some questionable business transactions with a certain Frenchman who was last night put into jail, charged with intending to commit murder.”
Crofton looked somehow both surprised and not the least confused. Word of Pierre’s arrest hadn’t reached him yet, apparently. But he did seem to know of the late duke’s connection to Pierre.
“These business dealings were not merely questionable,” Céleste continued. “They were entirely illegal. My brother discovered that and gathered proof of it; proof that I have access to.” She didn’t directly have access, but she knew Henri would provide it if needed. “Should the details of those dealings be brought to light, the English courts would need to decide which part of your inheritance was obtained through crimes and which would still rightly be yours. It could take years.” She hardened her gaze as she looked more fiercely at Crofton. “Years of scandal, years of questions, years in which you might not even have access to your inheritance.Years, Your Grace.”
“And what is it you’re asking of me in exchange for not using this evidence to destroy me?” Crofton spoke through a tight jaw. Good. He understood the gravity of his situation.
And here was where she achieved her aims. She could likely resecure Norwood Manor, but the entailment meant it could never truly be Aldric’s. Céleste meant to see him entirely free of his brother’s control.
“Your son deserves to know his uncle,” Céleste said. “He deserves to spend time with his uncle away from you.”
“You hold in your hand the ability to ruin me and in exchange for not doing so you are asking that Roderick be permitted to spend time with his uncle?” Crofton scoffed.
“Oh, I intend to be far more specific than that.” Céleste stood, necessitating that Crofton do the same. “Your schools here in England adjourn for a month every year around Christmastime.”
Crofton nodded slowly, still eyeing her through narrowed eyes.
“Beginning this year and continuing until he is an adult, Roderick will spend those Christmastime holidays with his uncle Aldric. And you and your wife will not be there.”
“The boy should spend Christmas with his family,” Crofton scoffed.
“Lord Aldricishis family.”
“And where are they to spend these Christmases?” The arrogance returned to the duke’s expression. “Aldric doesn’t have a house.”
“I have complete faith that he will sort that out despite your efforts, which I will remind you would only further sink you in the eyes of Society.” She allowed a quick smile. “Regardless of where Lord Aldric and Lord Mowbary spend their Christmases, your son will benefit from the connection.”
“And why do you care so much?”
“The only matter of concern to you, Your Grace, is whether or not you wish to spend years in court. Decide now, literally in this instant, and then I will determine what happens next.”
Crofton eyed her up and down. “You will keep this ‘evidence’ to yourself in exchange for me sending Roderick away at Christmastime?”
She gave a single, slow nod.
His laugh was derisive. “You do know the boy would have spent those Christmases in the nursery regardless?”
