Page 66 of The Duke's Match


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Norman flinched as if he had been struck. “Do you think I want material things from you, Percival? When have I ever asked for such?”

“I… cannot recall, but your mother often did. And you should know that she never gained what she wanted, either,” Percy replied, realizing that his brother was right; he had never asked for anything more than was already given.

Norman took a hesitant step forward. “I am not my mother, Percival. I have tried to tell you that for years. Please, just grant me a moment of your time, and I will take Victoria and go.”

“Who?” Percy frowned, jolting as Dickie elbowed him in the ribs.

“I believe that must be the sickly betrothed,” he said.

Max hemmed Percy in his other side. “He is your brother, Sinclair. He is family. I do not like to interfere or intrude in business that is not my own, but… what harm can it do to hear what he has to say?”

Untold harm,Percy wanted to reply, but even he knew that it would be petty and beneath him to refuse to at least have a conversation with Norman. He must have been traveling for days to get to Granville House from the east coast of Scotland, and though he did not want to, that sort of determination had to be respected.

“Five minutes,” Percy said sternly. “And you two can stay out here.”

He marched toward the drawing room, his sensibilities jarred as he saw that nothing in that room had yet been changed. It was like walking directly into the past, into countless memories of him being scolded and caned and shrieked at for things he had not done.

Steeling himself, he sat down in the armchair where his father used to sit, doing nothing as his stepmother berated him, and waited for Norman to settle into the chair opposite.

“Your five minutes have begun,” Percy said, gesturing to the carriage clock on the mantelpiece. “I am listening.”

CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE

“Iwant your blessing,” Norman said abruptly, shifting anxiously in the armchair. “Victoria is the woman I am in love with, the woman I hope to marry a fortnight from now, and the woman I intend to spend the rest of my life with. She has longed to meet you, but she is, at present, suffering from a terrible summer cold.”

Percy ran his hands over the threadbare armrests, taken aback by his half-brother’s words. “Why would you want my blessing? Nay, why would youneedmy blessing? I have always said that you may do as you please.”

“I know we have never been close as brothers, and I understand why you have chosen to keep your distance from me,” Norman began. “In your position, I would not want to know me either, but… Idowant to know you. I always have.”

Percy shook his head. “But you have no reason to want to know me. You and I have barely spent a moment in one another’s company.”

“I used to read the letters you would send to Father,” Norman replied with a faraway smile. “Mother would steal them from the post tray before he could see them, but I saw her one day, and I was curious. I found out where she hid them, and I… devoured them all as if they were stories written just for me. From those letters, I could pretend I had a brother who cared. When they stopped, I was heartbroken.”

Percy mustered a tight laugh. “It becomes difficult to write when no one is responding.”

“I knowthatfeeling all too well,” Norman said wryly. “But I never blamed you for not wanting to hear from me. Mother tried to pretend that she had done her best to love you and care for you, but the servants told me the truth. I do not know if you remember the old housekeeper’s daughter—she was a kitchen maid for a while, before she became the cook.”

“I remember her.”

“Well, she was the one who first told me what my mother did to you. I did not believe her, and almost told Mother what I had heard, but a few others swooped in to confirm it, and I began to look at things differently,” Norman explained. “I would ask Mother about you constantly, just to be certain, and she would become irate. She would rant and scream and curse your name and lock herself in her chambers for hours.”

Percy snorted. “Thatdoessound like her.”

“Once—many years later, when we were in Scotland—she told me herself of what she did, and tried to say that she did it for me. So that I could have everything, and you would have nothing. She even seemed proud of the fact that she had managed to get our father to cast you out, even if she had not succeeded in killing you. Though, of course, she was not pleased that she had not managed to get our father to alter the inheritance.” Norman chewed his lower lip, his eyes sad. “I could never forgive her for that—for denying me the bond of brotherhood. I could never forgive her for turning you against me.

“At Eton, the other boys all had grand stories of adventure and larks with their own brothers. I could never share in that, and… I was a tremendously lonely boy, Percival. Mother smothered me. She did not like me to have friends. If it had not been for Father, I think she would have ensured I received the entirety of my education from tutors who came to the house.” He sighed and sank back into his chair. It is not your fault, of course. As I said, I would never blame you for it, but… I just want you to understand that I have thought of you often, missing what I never had.”

Suspicious, Percy narrowed his eyes at Norman, trying to spot any hint of deceit on the younger man’s face. He liked to think of himself as someone perceptive, at least when it came to gentlemen, but he could not find anything but sincerity and sorrow. In truth, there seemed to be a great weight on the younger man’s shoulders that matched his own.

“I remember reading about your friends out there, in those letters,” Norman said, with a weary smile. “Youfoundbrothers. That is no small triumph. Myself—I did not discover the joy of friends until my mother passed, and I decided that I would dip my toe back into society.”

“WhatisScottish society like, these days?”

Norman’s smile brightened. “It is rougher, perhaps, than the English kind, but I rather like it. There are not so many airs and graces.” His cheeks reddened slightly. “And if it were not for the liveliness of Scottish reels, I would not have met my beloved.”

“Is she of good station?” Percy asked, realizing with a shudder that he sounded like his father.

Norman tilted his head from side to side. “She is the only daughter of a baron, but I would wed her even if she were a chambermaid. With your blessing, of course.”