“Nothing,” he replied with unnerving calm, though the bitterness that laced his words betrayed the anger roiling inside him.
The coolness of his voice only served to mask the frost of hatred that had long since settled deep within him.
Kenneth’s gaze hardened, sensing the tension in Wilhelm’s response.
“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” he retorted, leaning in slightly as if trying to uncover more, his voice laced with curiosity and suspicion.
Wilhelm glanced at him, ready to wave him off, but the Marquess caught him first.
“Ah, I see. I remember Shelton, you know. From Cambridge. You two were close, weren’t you?”
Wilhelm’s jaw tightened.
“Until…” Kenneth trailed off.
“Until he chose his ambitions,” Wilhelm finished for him, his voice hardening with a finality that brooked no furtherquestioning, the warmth of the brandy doing little to quell the icy rage that now gripped his heart
His gaze turned distant as the memory of their broken friendship flashed through his mind. The anger he felt was buried deep, but it still smoldered within, the memory of betrayal a constant companion.
He took a deep breath, steadying himself, willing the anger back into its cage.
“Now, enough about that,” he added. “Do you have any news?” he asked, his gaze piercing as he steered the conversation to safer ground.
“I do,” Kenneth replied, his voice a low growl.
Kenneth, ever perceptive, noted the shift in Wilhelm’s demeanor. He pressed his lips together as a hint of concern flickered in his eyes, but he did not comment on it.
“Consider it done,” he announced triumphantly. “I have secured the necessary contracts, forged the alliances, and set the wheels in motion. Shelton will not know what hit him.”
A shadow crossed Wilhelm’s face, and his expression hardened. “Good,” he said curtly, his voice devoid of emotion. “I expect to see results within the month. No mistakes, Gaverton.”
Kenneth nodded, his grin widening. “You shall have them, Ravenshire. You know that I am a careful man.” He raised his glass in a mock toast. “To the downfall of our enemies.”
Wilhelm snorted in agreement. “Indeed,” he growled, clinking his glass against Kenneth’s. “To our inevitable victory.”
Upon the conclusion of their meeting, Wilhelm’s posture straightened, and a fire ignited in his eyes. The strength of the resolve that was rooted deep within his soul provided him with the reassurance he needed. He rose from the desk and gestured for Kenneth to follow him.
As Wilhelm escorted Kenneth to the front door, the sharp click of their boots echoed in the stillness, and the silence of Ravenshire pressed down on them like a waiting storm.
As they rounded the corner, Wilhelm came to an abrupt halt. They found themselves standing before Genevieve, her cheeks still rosy from her trip to the village.
“Genevieve,” Wilhelm greeted, his tone carefully neutral.
“Your Grace.” Genevieve mimicked his tone and stared into his eyes.
Wilhelm pressed his lips together before speaking. “I trust your trip to the modiste was enjoyable?”
Genevieve offered him a genuine smile as her unease faded. “It was, indeed,” she replied happily. “The village was quite charming, to say the least.”
Wilhelm clenched his jaw and glanced at Kenneth. “Allow me to introduce you,” he said, his tone formal. “Genevieve, this is Kenneth, the Marquess of Gaverton. He is a business associate of mine.”
His gaze shifted back to Kenneth. “Gaverton, this is my wife, the Duchess of Ravenshire.”
Kenneth’s face broke into a charming smile.
“Duchess,” he greeted, bowing slightly. “It is an honor to finally meet you. Ravenshire has spoken about you with admiration.” He grinned, raising an eyebrow at Wilhelm.
Wilhelm’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. He forced a smile, though it did little to mask his growing annoyance.
