“Your boots looked thirsty, Papa!” he exclaimed.
“Perhaps hungry, Alex!” Emily corrected.
“Well, their mouths were wide open on the floor. So, we gave them a good snack!”
“Thirsty? Hungry?” Malcolm roared. He would have been completely terrifying if not for the fact that he looked silly hopping on one foot in an effort to avoid stepping on a puddle of eggs. “You two little rascals! Do you have any idea how much these shoes cost? What kind of punishment will actually work on the two of you? I will have you both sent to the country where you will be locked in an attic, eating only dry bread. There will not be any blasted and bloody eggs for the two of you!”
“Blasted and bloody eggs!” Emily repeated in a melodic tone, but combining it with her father’s growl. Alexander chimed in with her.
“Blasted and bloody—”
“Silence!” Kenneth bellowed, for once raising his voice that day.
The children stopped immediately, straightening their backs as if they were little soldiers. Alexander stepped closer to Kenneth, not quite looking frightened, more like contrite. His lips wobbled, but the Duke recognized it as a strategic move to avoid punishment. Meanwhile, his brother was wiping his foot with the now-found gin-soaked cravat. It was not quite what he would have imagined his brother doing with his life, but terrible things did happen. Still, how he reacted to what happened was his responsibility.
“When did you two start speaking like sailors? Your governess should teach you better manners,” Malcolm grumbled, after he had managed to clean his shoes. He then fell back onto the couch, exhausted.
“Five governesses have already quit,” Kenneth reminded his brother. “I am afraid we have not gotten any applications as of late.”
The duke thought of his other advertisement, the one that he had placed in the Morning Post regarding his search for a wife. That one had drawn more results. He could see why women would be eager to apply for the position of his duchess. The benefits were considerable. But for something so final, he had expected fewer takers, not more.
“Emily, take Alexander to the nursery. Tell Mrs. Gaines to keep you there until I say otherwise,” Kenneth said, resorting to having his housekeeper take over the two little heathens.
“But, Uncle Kenneth, it was just a game,” Emily protested.
“As the older of the two of you, I expect better behavior from you, Emily,” Kenneth scolded, but with a gentler voice. “You must go to the nursery now before I agree with your father and send you off to some awful place that is better at disciplining children like you two.”
“You would not really do that, would you?” Emily asked, her voice shaking a little even though her eyes widened to challenge her uncle’s decisions.
“I would not test my limits if I were you, Emily.”
Emily grunted before she grabbed her brother’s hand and marched out of the study. Kenneth watched them go, the ghost of a smile crossing his face before it disappeared entirely. He had been strict with the children, only because he believed the state of anarchy they were in should not continue. However, he had never given them a real reason to fear him. He still felt guilty about what happened to Malcolm, and the children were a constant reminder of it.
A memory sneaked into the corner of his mind.
‘You want me, Kenneth. I know you do.’
He had done the right thing. He told himself this every single day. Every time he looked at his brother. Every time he watched Emily and Alexander run wild through his halls with no mother to guide them and no father sober enough to care. And yet, Malcolm was still paying for it.
He shook the memory away. For now, he had matters to tend to. Malcolm was still watching the puddle as if he could contemplate his whole life on the very sight of it.
“Do you see what you are doing?” Kenneth asked, his voice lowering. His voice was not unkind, but he knew his brother would still consider it an admonishment. “This is the result of your love for spirits. Your children are becoming savages. They mimic all your bad behaviors. They are disrespectful, mocking you whenever they can find a reason. Stop giving them a reason to lose all their respect for you.”
“They are still young,” Malcolm murmured, lowering his head.
“While they may be children, they are the future of the Spruce name. Said name will find its premature end if they continue behaving despicably,” Kenneth said gravely. He turned away from his brother, walking toward his massive desk. Wasn’t it the plan for the day, anyway? He was supposed to tend to matters of the estate before he found his brother on the floor. “I cannot run the estate while I am also playing nursemaid to your offspring, while you guzzle bottles of brandy, gin, or whatever else. I am only one man, and I am reaching the end of my patience.”
The butler, Langdon, entered the room. The door was still open, anyway. Kenneth exhaled in frustration. More likely, some of the other servants had heard the commotion in the study. It wouldnot have surprised them, though.
“Your Grace, several letters arrived for you in response to your advertisement,” Langdon declared, after bowing, leaving a stack of correspondence on Kenneth’s desk.
“Thank you, Langdon,” the Duke murmured as he thoughtfully went through each of the missives.
He knew some of the names, but the others would turn out to be little mysteries he would figure out. More likely, he would read the first few sentences of each and discard the most vapid ones right away.
For some reason, though, a woman’s face appeared in his mind’s eye. It was that infuriating woman in the park. If he had to admit it to himself, she was infuriating because she was alluring. He was not supposed to notice those things. Perhaps her drenched clothes were the ones that caught his attention.
“Is it true, then?” Malcolm broke into his reverie. Kenneth could now confirm that the likes of the lady at the park had upturned his world.
