His Grace, The Duke: Second Sons Book Two

Burke followed behind James into White’s, nodding to the man who took their hats and coats. James had been downright surly in the coach, muttering under his breath and looking distractedly out the window. If they weren’t in such dire straits, Burke might suggest they pack their bags tonight and take off for the continent. It wouldn’t be the first time he used a trip to Greece to clear James of a bad mood.

But their collective straits had perhaps never been more dire. Between needing to guarantee George did get married…and maneuvering it so Burke assuredly did not get married, James and Burke had their hands full. There would be no sailing off for Greece until this was all sorted.

Burke had no doubt it would get sorted. And when it did, they would all sail away. Rosalie and Tom too. Burke had no doubts about them either. He knew exactly where he wanted Rosalie, which was between them all.

He stretched out his long legs to keep up with James as they climbed the main stairs, heading for the upper suites.

“This is ridiculous,” James muttered for the fifth time. “This will never work.” He paused his steps, turning on his heel to stare daggers at Burke. “Why are we letting her talk us into this? Utter madness.”

Burke laughed, glancing over James’ shoulder towards the set of double doors that led into the cards room. He could hear the low rumble of conversation. He stepped forward and adjusted the knot of James’ cravat. “Firstly, I shall tell you what you are constantly telling me…” He grabbed James by the shoulders and held his gaze. “Don’t be defeatist.”

James rolled his eyes, slapping Burke’s hands away.

“And secondly,” Burke added with a grin, “You know as well as I that the goddess that has fallen from the heavens into our lives could talk us into doing anything if it earned us so much as a look or a smile. Anything, James.” He leaned in, eyes flashing. “Anything.”

“Don’t.” James gave him a shove.

Burke just laughed. “Go on then, tell me what happened.”

James’ eyes darted down as he attempted to turn away. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Burke snatched him by the shoulder. “I mean you and Rosalie. Something happened today. I know when you’ve had words with her because you get all…fidgety.”

James jerked free, giving his waistcoat a sharp tug. “I don’t fidget.”

Burke swallowed a laugh as he pointed at James’ hands still on his waistcoat. “You quite literally just fidgeted. With your waistcoat…you do that thing…the James thing.” He mimicked James adjusting his waistcoat and lapels.

James dropped his hands to his sides, balling them into fists. “I am not fidgeting!”

“Whenever she gets under your skin—”

“She is not—” He paused as Burke failed to conceal a snort. James took a slow breath, looking murder at Burke before continuing at a quieter volume. “She is not under my skin.”

“Fine,” Burke replied. “Keep your secrets. I’ll just ask her about it later. I’m sure her version of events will show you in a positive light—”

“Goddamn it, nothing happened, alright? We spoke in the stairwell earlier. It was—we didn’t—it was fine. I was on my best behavior.”

Burke raised a suspicious brow.

“Fine, I was mostly behaved,” he muttered under his breath. “We have an agreement now…it’s fine.”

“Yes, clearly it must be fine,” Burke mused. “After all, you said the word ‘fine’ three times in the same breath.”

James cast him an annoyed look. “Don’t be a pest.”

“Fine.” Burke raised his hands in mock surrender. “You say it is fine, and so it is. You’re fine, I’m fine…it’s all fine.” He paused, waiting for James to look his way. “What is it with the two of you and stairwells?”

James just shrugged, his lowered brows back to brooding.

A very small part of Burke was jealous…though he didn’t quite understand in which direction the jealousy tended. Was he jealous of James and his time alone with Rosalie? Was he jealous that Rosalie could so easily unravel James? Or was he simply despondent at being left out while they shared another heated moment?

It was a new and wholly unexpected sensation to be so excited by the thought of Rosalie and James together. Burke was certainly no saint. He’d indulged a few times in a playful ménage…but never with another man. Certainly, never with James. Now he was sharing Rosalie with Tom and sleeping in the same bed. He found his mind full of thoughts of his friends with Rosalie in all sorts of scenarios that would have even a London madam blushing.

As much as Burke might want to make his dreams a reality, he had to tread lightly. He didn’t want to scare any of them off. He gave James a disapproving look. “James Corbin, a lady’s honor is at stake. Shall I post monitors on all the stairs?”

“Please don’t,” James replied, and too quickly. “I want to avoid any of the staff witnessing our…arguments,” he added, avoiding Burke’s eye. He took another slow breath, squaring his shoulders. “The woman is infuriating. I honestly don’t know what you see in her.”

Burke just smiled. Oh, what a terrible liar James made. They were both mad about her, and with good reason. Rosalie was a beautiful, clever siren that made Burke weak in all the best ways. She was every dream he never knew he had, and hell was going to freeze over before he let her slip away. No amount of posturing from James was going to frighten her off or make Burke change his mind.

With each passing day, Burke began to understand that she wanted the same thing as him: to see James happy. The moment James finally broke down and admitted his ultimate happiness could be found in her, Burke would celebrate with champagne and the ringing of bells. For now, he had to play along with their ludicrous plan of distancing from each other.

“Chin up, my lord,” he said, slapping James on the back. “Remove her from the equation if she irritates you so. Besides, you’re not doing this for Rosalie. You’re doing it for me.” At James’ silence, Burke narrowed his eyes, annoyance churning once more in his gut. “You are doing it for me, yes?”

“Yes—”

Burke leaned in, lowering his voice to a threatening growl. “Because whatever else may be happening with Rosalie, I was here first, James. Me.”

Frustration flashed in James eyes. “You don’t think I know that?”

A muscle ticked in Burke’s jaw. “I don’t take kindly to being usurped. She is still owed a punishment for even trying it. And I mean to collect.”

James blinked twice before letting out a gruff laugh. “Oh, I see. You’re not mad that she up and left you behind the other night. You’re mad that she left with me. She took your favorite toy and that upset you.”

Burke grit his teeth. “Laugh if you want, magnanimous one, but you’re both mine.”

James’ smile fell.

Good. Burke wanted him on edge. Resentment flowed both ways. He gave his friend a level look. “She doesn’t get to threaten what you and I have. Just as I’ll be damned before I let you get between her and I in any way other than carnal.”

Was James blushing? He swallowed, looking suddenly unsure of himself. “Burke—”

“I see you, James,” he pressed. “You can hide nothing from me.”

“Don’t I know it,” he muttered.

Burke smirked, satisfied to hear his friend admit the truth. “And know this as well: I’m playing by your rules for now, letting you manage this on your own. God knows if I use a heavier hand, I’ll only get bit for my trouble. But I’ll not stand by and watch you pace each other in circles forever.”

James’ frown deepened. “Now who’s the meddling one?”

Eyes flashing with devilish intent, Burke leaned in, his face inches from James. “I learned from the master.”

The word settled between them with all the subtlety of a cannon blast. James sucked in a sharp breath, green eyes blowing wide. “Burke…I—”

“Close your mouth, James. You look like a fish,” Burke said with a laugh. He gestured over James’ shoulder towards the doors. “Now, shoulders back. Smooth, confident smile. You are Viscount Finchley, brother to the Duke of Norland. You command every room you enter. White’s is no exception. Let’s strut in there and bag ourselves a new beau for my gorgon bride.”

James turned away, giving his waistcoat another sharp tug. Burke couldn’t help but smile. He stepped forward, opening the door to the cards room. A chorus of greetings met their ears, mixed with the thick scent of cigar smoke.

“Finchley!”

“Good to see you, man!”

“Lord Finchley, come join us for the next round!”

Taking a deep breath, Burke followed James into the smoky room, preparing himself for a long night of political diatribes and pompous posturing. But James was right, at least the coffee here was divine.