Page 48

But he…he had scars that would never fade.

His cheek burned.

He took a sip of Madeira, then set his glass down. “Dorothea is well. As Machiavellian as ever.”

Abigail chuckled. “I am glad to hear she hasn’t lost her vivacity.”

Rafe’s shoulders relaxed slightly. God, he missed Grandmama. He and Derek always acted so outraged and put out by her constant maneuvering, but neither of them truly minded. Nor could he blame her efforts. She claimed she wanted grandchildren, but Rafe suspected it was something else entirely. She was so heavily involved in finding him a suitable wife—because she knew the consequences of being bound to a partner who wasn’t. The repercussions for a woman were a thousand times worse in that regard, but Grandmama wouldn’t tolerate even the smallest slight toward her grandsons. Derek being included in that, like it or not, for Rafe’s mate.

“Every year I age, her attempts at finding me a wife are more and more difficult to thwart.” He glanced toward his brother. “I’m sure you will become familiar with that soon.”

Lord Sebastian’s gaze skittered away. Apparently, his brother was just as averse to marriage as Rafe was.

Abigail delicately cleared her throat. “Sebastian is still quite young. We are a ways away from that.”

“You are fortunate, Lord Sebastian, that your mother does not share our grandmother’s penchant for matchmaking.”

His brother sent him a smile, though it was a weak attempt compared to what he typically displayed. “Quite.”

Rafe swirled his wine. “Probably for the best. A duke’s heir, signature Sinclair looks, the women of the ton would eat you alive.” He took a sip and lifted his brows. “Though that’s not always a bad thing.”

His brother’s features flinched into a grimace before quickly rearranging back into a smile. Odd. Most men Lord Sebastian’s age—and of his station—would be dying to get to London. He would have no shortage of companionship there.

“Sebastian still has his Grand Tour,” Abigail said quickly, her encouraging smile now directed at her son. “Isn’t that right? You are very much looking forward to it.”

“It is still undecided whether I will make the journey.” He shot a pointed look at his mother.

The Duchess sent an identical look right back at her son. “I will be fine, Sebastian. You need to experience some of the world.”

Rafe’s heart lurched in his chest, a grasping fist that wanted to snatch up that mother-son interaction and keep it for itself. And for a moment, blue eyes, a shade he couldn’t place any longer, stared back at him. A faded tinkling laughter hummed in his memory, just out of reach.

“You can’t get me, Raphael. I’m much too fast for you.”

Rafe chased after Mother, trying to catch her, but she slipped out of reach and slid behind a chair. Her eyes sparkled, a grin splitting her face. He darted after her again, and she took off around her bedchamber, their peals of laughter echoing around them.

He caught her—like she’d always let him—and they tumbled onto her bed. She pulled him up to her chest, and he snuggled into her.

“My sweet, sweet boy.”

Rafe shoved away the hazy memory. “Your mother’s right,” he said stiffly. “The continent is an incredible experience.”

An incredible escape. Rafe and Derek had traveled together. Theirs had been brief, as they’d both already inherited and couldn’t be away for too long, but for a short while, they’d been able to forget the horrors life had dealt them.

“And you have the opportunity for an extended stay. Enjoy the freedom while it lasts. Who knows, I might kick the bucket, and you’ll have all this shite to deal with.”

“Raphael.” Abigail’s eyes went wide. “We certainly hope such a fate never comes to pass.” She lifted her glass. “To a long life and full health, and to a future duchess and heirs.”

A faint humorless laugh fell from Rafe, his gaze dropping to his plate. “It’s quite comical how my own father wanted your son to be duke more than you do.” He met Abigail’s vibrant green eyes. “He succeeded in replacing my mother, but unfortunately his efforts failed in my case.” His stepmother’s cheeks paled, her gaze darting to Rafe’s scar and back.

Silence crashed over the room.

“W-what does that mean?” Lord Sebastian glanced between his mother and Rafe.

Bile rose in Rafe’s throat, his fingers tightening around his silverware.

“Your mother had a fall, an unfortunate accident.”

“Is she going to be all right?”