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“What are you three doing here?” Marcus said, aware he was slurring his words as he stumbled into the room. He didn’t get very far before he felt hands on his shoulders. Peter and Laurie had jumped to their feet, discarding their cards, and taken hold of him. “What are you….” He didn’t finish his question though, for they steered him to the nearest seat to sit down beside Walter, safe in the chair.
“That’s better. You were worrying me you would fall over and hurt yourself at any moment,” Peter said, stepping away again.
“I’m not that bad,” Marcus answered tartly, but he merely earned raised eyebrows in response. “Why are you three here?”
“Why do you think?” Walter said, placing down his glass. “For one thing, you have been gone all day. We want to know what you’ve been up to. For another—”
“We’re being nosy and want to know what you are going to do about Lady Violette,” Peter said, earning a narrowed glare from Walter. “What?”
“What happened to being subtle about this?” Walter said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Damn subtlety, I want to know an answer,” Peter said, sitting in a nearby chair and perching on the very edge of his seat. “Well?”
Marcus looked between his three brothers, seeing the intensity of their gazes. The long day and evening drinking with Sherborne had left him not just drunk but overwhelmed. Each time he remembered something of his and Lady Violette’s time together, he saw it in a new light.
He looked away from the curious eyes staring at him and turned to the paintings attached to the walls instead. His eyes settled on the painting of him and Lady Violette together, running from the boxing ring. Just seeing those eyes staring out from the painting filled him with longing.
One thing was certain, he couldn’t let her out of his life now.
“Walter, could you do me a favour?” Marcus asked, trying to settle the slurring in his voice as much as possible.
“Of course, what do you need?” Walter moved to the edge of his seat.
“Is Father still up?”
“Yes,” Laurie said in answer. “He’s in the library.”
“Then Walter, help me to him. There is something I must discuss with him.” Marcus gestured to his brother. Walter took his arm and helped him to his feet before steering him back out of the door. Peter and Laurie followed. “Did I say you two can come?”
“Call us nosy.” Peter smiled as he hurried after him out of the door.
“Nosy,” Marcus said, “and I can think of worse words. Stay there, both of you.” His order was reluctantly followed as Peter and Laurie stopped in the entrance hall, gazing after him. Marcus was pushed forward a little more by Walter, and each time he veered to the side, Walter prodded him to walk straight again.
“Is this really the best time for this conversation, Marcus?” Walter asked in a whisper as they reached the door to the library.
“It cannot wait any longer,” Marcus said with feeling. He pushed open the door to find their father was sat by the fireplace with a book in his lap and one candle beside him on a side table to keep them company.
“Marcus, Walter,” the Marquess said, looking up with a smile that quickly faltered. “Marcus…you’re drunk.”
“Indeed I am, Father,” Marcus said, striding forward. “I have made a decision though, somewhere in my intoxication, and I intend to hold to it, and tell you of it now.”
The Marquess glanced back at Walter, clearly unnerved by Marcus’ manner.
“Very well, what is it?” he asked.
“I will marry.” Marcus tried to start slowly, but before he could get any further, his father moved to his feet.
“That’s wonderful. You have come to your senses about Lady Helen at last?” he said with a smile before walking across the room and clapping Marcus on the shoulder with warmth. “I must go and tell her father the good news.”
“No, Father, you misunderstand. It is not Lady Helen who I wish to marry.”
“What?” the Marquess’ head whipped back round toward Marcus. “Then who is it?”
“Lady Violette Blay,” Marcus said with finality. He was aware out of the corner of his eye that Walter was smiling and looking back to the doorway where Peter and Laurie were standing, trying their best to listen in.
“Who is that?” the Marquess asked with a frown.
