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“Nonetheless,” Edward went on, changing the subject lest he be lost in thoughts about her. “Sage Brook is overstaffed in my view. You’re flitting your money away on gambling, and there’s no improvement in sight. Either help change the situation or give me full control of the Pembroke estates.”
Norman scowled at him once more. Edward didn’t want to have to lay down the hard truth, but there was no other solution. Either Norman agreed to change his ways, or Edward would exert as much control as he could get his hands on.
The rain was pouring down mercilessly outside, and Percival stood frozen, awaiting further command. Norman downed his brandy and considered his options before changing the subject completely.
“Is Edward’s room prepared?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“The corner room, overlooking the garden?”
“Indeed.”
“Why don’t you go to bed, Edward. We can discuss this over breakfast.”
“By my watch, breakfast is in mere hours. We can come to a resolution now.”
It was a standoff. Edward saw the weariness in his brother’s eyes, but Edward’s mind was sharp as a knife.
“Before I answer your request,” Norman said. “Tell me about your favourite whore house.”
Edward was aghast. His jaw dropped open. Percival quickly fled the room. “What are you getting at?”
“I know that you are a lover of women. You occasionally indulge.”
Edward fell silent. His one flaw. He had attended a few reputable houses in London, back in his playboy days. He loved everything about beautiful women and the actions that took place between the sheets. Edward was young when he gave into this indulgence, and it taught him much.
He also made a vow several years previously that he would never step foot in one of those houses again. In fact, he wouldn’t indulge in the joys of the flesh until he had a wife, and even then, his wife would be the only woman in the world. Edward knew what it was like to be physically unencumbered, and the desire had left him.
Edward finally replied. “Those days are in the past.”
“Now you’re prepared to marry Lady Anna Rutley.”
Edward gritted his teeth. He wasn’t so sure of that. “I’m ready to be a married man. I don’t know who my wife will be.”
Norman grinned. “Watching my younger brother settle down. It’s going to be quite the spectacle.”
“I could say the same for you. If that was ever to happen.”
“I’ll tell you what.” Norman placed some bills onto the table. “This is what I have left. It’s still no small sum. How about you and I enjoy the last game of the night?”
“You’re going to lose, Norman.”
“I’m not so sure. You may excel at many things, but you’re no card shark.”
“Agreed.”
“So come now. Let’s have a little fun.”
“Very well.”
As Norman dealt the cards, Edward felt pity for his brother. It was always the plight of the gambler to think that next time, the odds would be in their favour. A man could lose hand after hand, but as long as that belief still existed, the man was a gambler through and through. What would the late Duke and Duchess of Bancroft have thought of such behaviour? No doubt, they would have disowned their son and given the Pembroke estate over to Edward. It would have pained him, but Edward would be pleased. At least he’d be able to sleep better at night.
Once the cards were dealt, Norman had a sudden burst of energy. It was his drug of choice, and it would lift him up before dropping him down yet again. He eyed his own cards like a hawk. Norman’s eyes were mildly bloodshot, and Edward had to wonder if either of them would get any sleep that night.
At best, they’d break their fast well into the afternoon. Who's to say whether the motley group of men would join them to dine. It was Edward’s hope that they would slowly trickle out at light of day.
Edward was dealt a very good hand and instantly knew that he would win, but he saw the same confidence in his brother’s eyes. Perhaps he was bluffing. The game didn’t last long, and once Edward claimed victory, he saw the sunken look on Norman’s face yet again. He had warned him, and now Norman would have to hand over the last of his funds.
