Sweet Revenge To The Duke (Book 1)

Chapter Two

Oliver halted his horse behind a grove of withered oaks and awaited the arrival of his younger brother, the Honourable Oscar Paviland.

Oscar, a svelte seventeen-year-old on the verge of adulthood, had kept his distance as usual. Was he attempting to make others feel bad for leaving him in the dust? Was it done to elicit sympathy? Oliver had no idea—his brother had always been a conundrum.

It felt as if there was something...broken about the young man these days. He was dashing, superbly slender but robust, beautifully blond and brightly blue-eyed—a complete women' magnet. But there was something sinister lurking beneath the surface. And nothing could make him happy.

Oscar arrived, breathless and dishevelled by the stiff fall weather, and Oliver laughed, shrugging off his uneasy thoughts. He joked, "Coming in second as usual, Oscar." "Of course, you'll blame the horse."

"Not in the least." The lovely brow drew inward. "I didn't want to upset Papa by damaging the stallion on my first ride, but there was some hard ground back there."

"Papa has most likely forgotten that he gave it to you."

"I'm curious as to what's going on with him." He constantly referring to me as 'Oliver.' "I'm going to have to bite my tongue."

"Make certain you do. And don't be surprised if he speaks of Mama as if she were still alive."

"I know it would only enrage him." Oscar's nasty mouth drooped.

"You're not getting it—" Oliver slammed his mouth shut. He didn't want the world to know about their father's mental instability. The earl was a proud man, and it was not widely known that his older son had already been groomed to take over the earldom. But it would be if Oscar was told. And he couldn't trust Oscar not to make fun of the earl if he learned about his flaws or use the man's memory loss.

It's time for a change of pace. He leaned over his saddle-bow and returned his eyes to Hedenham House's grand turrets and pinnacles. "I'm curious as to what old Burley has planned for this evening's entertainment."

Oscar calmed his horse, then let go of the reins to allow it to graze the tall grass at the ride's margins. "There's a rumor that we'll be invited to a costumed feast fit for our Classical forefathers."

"A masquerade?" you might ask. Masked balls were his least favorite. All that bluff and nonsense. What kind of outfits could Athene and her guardian put together? He needed to see whether there was time to send something out for them.

"He's a little odd, isn't he?"

"Excuse me?"

Oscar frowned. "Are you not paying attention?" Of course, there's Burley."

The Duke of Burlington, whose ancestral castle they now occupied, was known for his "innovative" soirees, balls, and parties. Dressing up was usually needed, and there was always some exotic entertainment, such as dancing goats or bare-breasted trapeze performers dangling from the chandeliers—all of which were specifically reinforced for the occasion. Only those Ton members who were too wealthy to care what Society thought of them were invited.

That's why he'd been surprised—and disturbed—to find Miss Athene Edwards would be a guest. He could tell she didn't have much money because he kept a tight eye on her, and it wasn't her regular type of thing.

As a result, he felt it was even more important that he attend the celebration himself.

He swallowed his saliva and cleared his throat. "Have you had a chance to speak with Athene?"

Oscar's eyes narrowed for a split second. "Miss Edwards?" he said. I had no idea she'd arrived. Isn't she far too poor for the duke's set? "Perhaps she's on the lookout for a fortune."

Probably. What kind of fortune did she need? And did it make a difference whether the riches came with a title?

He pulled at his cravat's knot. "I really hope not—so it's degrading for a woman of her stature." She's being escorted by someone who appears to be her younger sister. "Not a great pick for a guardian."

"Can you tell me her name?" Flies were smacked away from Oscar's horse's mane.

"Miss Elizabeth Thompson". They've been in London for a while."

“Oh. "I assumed her protector was a sage."

"No, you're thinking of her great aunt." She passed away many years ago. After that, she was taken in by a distant cousin, who continued to send her to gloomy boarding institutions. Athene has barely spent six months with her current guardian. Miss Thompson, I understand, is the poor girl's only living relative."

"Poor girl?" he said. Oscar's brow furrowed. "Since when have you felt sorry for Athene?" Every time we played together, you harassed her terribly. I'm amazed her aunt let you even get close to her. It was so much better when you returned to school and it was just her and me."

Oliver felt as if Oscar had struck him across the face. "Tormented her?" he responded, forcing a jollity he wasn't feeling. Nonsense. You were the one who trailed her, making cow eyes at her and attempting to entice her to take your hand."

"Damn you, Oliver. I was just a kid." You were a jerk. "As well as being old enough to know better."

"Did I truly harass her like that?" I recall her torturing me." Torturing, more like, with her pink lips always turned down whenever she saw him, her blue eyes spouting defiance, and her red hair gleaming like a halo of fire around her head—a beautiful, elfin demon.

"Then you've forgotten what a bully you were." To the two of us."

Moonshine. He had always acted in Oscar's best interests. And she was still at it. Clearly, this is a thankless job. "Do we have to dispute over how I acted a decade ago?"

"Do we have any idea?" "It was you who brought it up."

"No, I didn't." He blamed himself for succumbing to the seduction.

He turned to his brother with a soothing smile and watched Oscar's weird expression flicker across his face once more. He may have assumed it was resentment if he hadn't known any better. But what could be the source of Oscar's resentment? He'd always taken care of him.

"Have you heard anything about that Morchard resident?" Oscar taking the cloth was their father's greatest dream, as well as his own. The youngster was developing terrible habits, and the Church vowed to intervene right away.

"You snoop around in everyone's affairs, Olly." With all your...your ladybirds, and...and gaming, and Lord knows what else, I don't know how you find the time."

Oliver took a deep breath, hissing. "If you'd spent any time with our dying father at Deerfold, you'd have realized—"

Oscar yanked his horse's head off, dug his heels in, and bolted.

"—I'm now in charge of everything. He sighed as he finished, "I don't have time for my personal pleasures anymore."

He had to remember that Oscarwas still young and had a lot to learn. And one never treated one's siblings with the same respect as one would a friend or acquaintance. Despite this, he wasn't used to Oscar being so hostile toward him. And calling him a rakehell is entirely unfounded. Apart from a few misdemeanors while at Oxford... Wasn't that something that every hot-blooded young man was entitled to? Especially for someone who has been let down by love.

This house party was going to be more difficult than he had anticipated. He needed to figure out what was worrying his brother, who had dared to kiss Athene in the dark—and give the rascal a lesson—and why the impoverished Miss Edwards and her guardian had come to Hedenham.

He had a feeling he already knew the answer to the latter. If he was correct, he needed to find a way to suffocate Athene's ambitions before she did more harm than good.

.............