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"Stay away from her. The help are not your playthings. Swear you will not take advantage," I say between breaths, my adrenaline running on overdrive. How did we fall so far? How did we even get here? It breaks me apart, the world melting around us until nothing matters or counts except him.
He's my younger brother. I hate that this is where we've ended up, barely able to stand being in the same room together. What kind of legacy have I left for Ruby and Noah to follow?
"I swear it," Benedict says like a curse, and I let go, stepping back. He sags into the wall, his eyes closing like he's in ecstasy. He shakes his arm and turns to look at me, leaning against the wall. "Bastard."
"Hardly, or I wouldn't be here," I say loftily so he doesn't see how much those words hurt. I want to think that my opinion of him matters as much, but I know it's not true.
Somewhere along the way, I lost him. His respect, his familial love. He's empty now, drained out of anything that kept him close to me.
I can't focus on it. I have to think of Maddie and the two remaining siblings I have that still want to be in my presence for any other reason than to piss me off.
He bows his head, chin dipping to the ground, and laughs.
"You know, I used to give a shit about you," he says, echoing my thoughts. "I wonder what happened to that guy, right? You ever ask yourself?"
I stare at him, unsure where he's going with this, but I'm not liking it.
"Go to bed, Benedict," I reply. He hitches his shoulder, his eyes in shadow.
"Go fuck yourself, Mason," he spits back, standing up tall, although he's favoring the side I twisted up. I feel a little guilty about that.
He takes a step toward me.
"We're done. You gave your word. I'm leaving," I say, and turn, walking toward the door. His laugh stops me in my tracks, feet away from exit.
"I gave my word, yes," he says, and I turn slowly to look at him. He's got his arms spread wide, like he's trying to make himself as big as possible in the presence of a predator.
Is that me? Am I his predator? My chest hurts and I need a drink.
"I gave my word I wouldn't take advantage," he says, his sparkling with rage. "Never said I wouldn't make her love me," he threatens.
I'm silent in return. He wants more of a fight, and I'm not inclined to give it to him. I need peace and quiet.
"Goodnight," I say, moving to the door. It swings open and he laughs behind me.
"You'll fucking regret your words," he says, whooping after me.
He wouldn't. He's drunk and ridiculous. He'll sleep it off and be more sensible in the morning. If I need to speak with him again, I will. The nobility aren't being spared a recent wave of claims of sexual harassment and intimidation from their staff.
He'll see sense when he's sober.
I close the door on his broken laughter, and hope he makes it to his bed. I pull out my phone and shoot off a text to his valet. Timms has been with Benedict for almost ten years, and is built like one of those football players. He can manage Benedict, and ensure he doesn't do something stupid like hurt himself. Or drown in the bathtub.
I close my eyes, and let the peace of the house at night fill my lungs and my mind.
He gave his word. I'll have to hold him to it, but at least, he gave it.
15
Eva
"Miss Bell," Madeline's sly expression over her oatmeal makes me think she is about to ask some great favor to get out of her day's lessons, maybe.
I still need to think about how to approach the duke over her workload. She doesn't seem unhappy, but in her place I'd feel like I was a prisoner, being tugged this way and that.
"Yes, my lady?" I'm eyeing her tea and her oatmeal. She's eaten enough that if she wants to stop, she can.
"I was wondering if you could stay," she sits up properly, lifting her chin. "For my riding lesson." Her gaze flits across my face nervously, like she's worried I'll say no.
