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“I’ve been busy,” Richard muttered.
Samuel’s anger spiked. “Busy trying to screw your way out of this problem or this problem out of your thoughts?”
Richard scowled. “Both.”
“Are women and drink your solution to everything?”
“They’re a damn sight better solution than books.”
Fists balled, Samuel glared across the gravel strewn ground that separated him from his brother. Against the backdrop of a gurgling fountain, Richard stood nearly as tall as Samuel, and a touch broader. Softer in the middle, too, if Samuel’s judgement proved sound. Behind Richard, Grecian robed girls crafted of dark granite poured water endlessly from giant urns. Samuel felt like his patience with Richard was that water.
“As head of our house, I order you to confess to taking the journal,” Richard said with belligerent menace.
A long stride brought Samuel to stand toe to toe with his brother.
“Or what?”
Richard scowled and drew back his fist.
Samuel chuckled, the sound grating rather than mirthful.
“I forgot your third favourite solution.”
“It’s my favourite when it comes to you.” Richard swung.
Samuel dodged out of the way. “I believe I’ve asked you before to use your words.”
Richard used a few words that would make a sailor blush and lunged for Samuel again.
Using his longer legs to his advantage, Samuel once again dodged away, covering ground more quickly than Richard could.
“Fight like a man,” Richard growled.
“I prefer not to fight at all, as you know.”
“Coward.” Richard lunged.
Samuel dodged around the fountain.
“I prefer realist. What good would a fight do? Are you saying that if I best you, you’ll confess?”
Richard glared at him over the shoulder of a motionless, urn-holding girl.
“Hardly.”
“But if you win, I must confess?”
“Certainly.” Richard edged right around the fountain.
“Can you see then how pointless fighting you seems to me?” Samuel asked, circling away.
“For once in your life, Sammy, be a man.”
“You and I have very different definitions of what that means.”
“Says the man halfway to seducing the Duke of Aspen’s new wife out from under him. Don’t think I don’t know she’s not the real reason you won’t take the blame.”
“She’s got nothing to do with this. If I have my way, I’ll never speak to her again.”
