Devon dropped against the back of his chair with a harsh bark of laughter. “True. Another true answer—nothing. He has neglected any holdings he’s been given to protect, and he actively attempted to sabotage your marriage to Tabitha. He has never done anything to help anyone or himself. Do you know why?”
“Because he’s a pompous arse I wish very much to punch in the throat?”
“Because he is a second son. He has never truly had to do anything but accept the allowance and inheritances that come to him naturally. You were the heir and had to work to take care of your family, your tenants, your estates. You are not idle, and you have, since your birth, worked hard to deserve that which was handed to you. A second son does not have those responsibilities. He’s… floating. A bit.” He leaned forward once more, poked his finger into the tabletop again, and held Arthur’s gaze with sturdy chains. “I am not Brutus.”
“Of course you’re not.” Arthur rubbed his temples. “Still… I understand how such a fear would motivate you.” He shivered. “Like Brutus? No indeed.”
He lounged into the back of his chair, letting his arms falls to the side and showing Devon his profile. His jaw worked as he thought, and then he turned to face Devon once more. “You won’t even use your inheritance, then?”
Devon had to stand on his own two feet. He had to prove he could. “No.”
“I do not wish you to be miserable, and Tabitha would be distressed if her friend was miserable. A girl like her might very well be miserable if she marries a man who refuses to use the money he has.” He opened his eyes and dropped his hand to the desk. “Did anyone catch you kissing other than her father?”
“No.”
“Then don’t marry her if you don’t wish to.”
Devon’s mouth dropped open.
“Don’t look like that. As if I’ve proposed you run naked through the streets.Hmph. I’m merely suggesting that no marriage at all is better than one that makes both parties miserable, and if her father is the only one who bore witness, surely he will not slander his own daughter’s name publicly.”
“No. But if he doesn’t get what he wants, he might cut off my fingers one by one then move on to appendages lower south.”
Arthur snorted and rubbed a palm down his face. “I highly doubt that. He doesn’t, as far as I know, have a trail of missing persons in his past. I’ve—ahem—checked into him.”
Devon crossed his arms over his chest and raised a brow. “You’ve checked into him? Had him investigated? Why the hell would you do that?”
“Miss Clarke is particular friends with Tabitha. Tabby visits her sometimes. You were spending every blessed hour over there. I wanted to make sure the acquaintanceship was safe for all. And it is.”
Devon laughed, and the sound had a maniacal edge to it, even to his own ears. “You cannot stop being you, King Art, even when you’ve stopped being entirely stodgy.”
“Are you done here, Devon? I’m parched. And hungry. I’m sure Tabitha and Mother have something worth eating for their guests, and I intend to steal a bit of it. Muffins hopefully.”
“Your advice is don’t marry her and eat a muffin?”
Arthur stood and circled the desk, propping a hip on its edge and staring down at Devon. “It seems so.”
“Her father demands it. He did not mention consequences should I not follow through, but I can imagine them.”
“They are wholly imagined, Devon.”
“My pride demands it.” The truth. Why not go further? “I did nothing wrong in the case of Lady Jane, but everyone thinks I did. Did you know they are calling me the Reputation Ruiner?”
A look of disgust shivered over Arthur’s face. “Not around me, they’re not.”
“No. Doesn’t mean it’s not happening. I didn’t mind before because I was guiltless. I did my best to repair the situation. It wasn’t my fault Lady Jane sneaked out of London in my coach, and I’m not to blame that Lady Jane fell in love with Abbington and chased after him to London. She never stops running off, that one.
“But Ihavedone something in this instance. The mistake ismine. I knew better when I kissed Miss Clarke. I should not have done it.” He’d tried to stop, but he’d also let her stop him from stopping. Seemed a good idea in the moment. Unfortunately, heated moments were often not fueled by logical thought. Or moral thought. Or any thought at all.
Devon ground his teeth together. “We were caught. I can’t refuse her father. It’s a matter of honor.” And a matter of keeping his tendons where they were. Arthur hadn’t known to look for a string of previous, tendonless workshop assistants in Mr. Clarke’s past. He’d likely just missed them during his investigations. “I’ll marry her.”
“Then you’d better find out how you can do so without being a miserable, angry grouch. Without making her one, too. I’m delighted to welcome her to the family as long as the two of you are delighted with each other.”
“That might be the most unconventional thing you’ve ever said, King Art. I can’t quite believe it. They say marriage changes a man, but—”
“It’s true. Marriage has changed me. No. Love has changed me, and I’d like you to know what that’s like. Miss Clarke, too. No matter how unconventional it may be. Now come along. I’m hungry.” He marched for the door.
Devon followed, trotting like a damned dog at his brother’s heels. “Her father has demanded because all he does is bellow and demand and—”
