~Duke LaVelle

  “No, Father! I refuse!” Elaine shouted, surprising Duke LaVelle. His eldest daughter had never raised her voice at him in her entire life. Not once.

  “It’s not a choice, Elaine,” he thundered back, making her shrink into the settee. “You are to meet with Brandon Rowanward on the morrow, and you will make a good impression. Miles will accompany you as your chaperone to ensure you do so.”

  “But I love Lord Sean!” she cried. “How can I meet another man when my heart belongs to him?”

  “Goddess help me—Elaine, as a noble daughter of Dorandia, it is your duty to marry whoever I tell you to. Forget about Lord Sean. Forget him. He’s probably already forgotten all about you.” Elaine gasped as if she’d been struck. “Now go to your room and find something suitable to wear. And stop crying! You’re a grown woman.”

  Elaine got up and hurried out of her father's office, letting the door slam shut behind her. Duke LaVelle got up from the lounge chair he’d sat in during their brief conversation and moved to the window, letting loose a heavy sigh.

  He knew he was harsh on her—he’d planned to be—but had he gone too far? He’d given her plenty of time to get over the Mercado boy, but she’d done nothing but sulk for months. As her father, he thought it might be time for a drastic measure to help her move on.

  Whether Lord Sean’s feelings had changed was irrelevant because his father had made it clear that there would be absolutely no rekindling of the match between their houses. Elaine had to move on.

  Marquess Rowanward had been receptive to a potential match between their houses—of course he would be, considering the advantages to his side. His eldest son, Brandon, was just three years older than Elaine’s twenty-two years, and knighted. As far as Duke LaVelle could tell, he was a handsome young man and also quite accomplished. Surely, once they met as potential marriage partners and Elaine viewed him in a…different light, she’d come around…wouldn’t she?

  With Miles there to oversee things and make sure Elaine behaved, at the very least, it wouldn’t be a disaster.

  Would it?

  ?????

  ~Florence

  Knock, knock.

  I jump, and the balls of yarn I’d been levitating fall to the floor. With a wave of my hand, I roll all of them under the bed just as Mary enters the room.

  “Pardon the interruption, my lady, but your brother, Lord Miles, is here to see you,” Mary says, stepping back and eyeing the open door.

  “Oh, I’ll be down—” I start to say.

  “No need,” Miles says, walking into my room. I involuntarily take a step back, trying not to look as alarmed as I feel. Never once has he stepped foot in my bedroom, not in recent times nor when I was a girl. He looks around my room, and I feel…exposed. “Father mentioned you renovated the annex. It looks nice.”

  “Um, thank you,” I reply. “What brings you here so suddenly?”

  “I have a favor to ask of you. This afternoon, I was supposed to accompany Elaine to a meeting with Brandon Rowanward as her chaperone, but…something else urgently requires my attendance. Will you go in my stead? I’ll give you whatever you want in exchange, within reason, and you can take your time to think about whatever it is you want.” He looks down at me. “Well? Will you? I need to know now.”

  Goodness! How can I say no?

  “I suppose so,” I reply, knowing there is no alternative. “Just tell me what I need to do.”

  My brother smiles at me and grips my arm lightly. “Thank you, Florence. You’ve saved me. Now, here are the details…”

  While Elaine is busy chatting with father on the side closest to the house, Miles opens the other side of the carriage and sneaks me in. Then, he goes around to Elaine and shooes father away.

  “We’ll be fine,” Miles tells him. “I’ll take it from here.”

  “Good lad,” father says. With a nod, he turns and goes into the house. From the window, I watch him go and see Miles and Elaine make a big, slow show of getting into the carriage.

  “I take it Elaine knows of the change in plans?” I ask once everyone is inside, and Miles taps on the roof with his cane.

  “Yes,” Miles says. “I’ll be hopping out once we’re out of sight of the main house; then, the rest is up to you two.”

  “Does Lord Brandon know I’m coming?” I ask Miles. “Please tell me you informed him.”

  “Of course I let him know,” Miles scoffs. “It would’ve been terribly rude of me not to.”

  I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

  “Alright, I’m off. Good luck.”

  With a nod of his head, Miles hops out of the moving carriage with a surprising display of acrobatic ability I hadn't known he possessed.

  I glance over at Elaine. Her eyes are on her lap, where her fingers twist themselves into knots. Father is cruel, forcing her to do this.

  But what can we do?

  ?????

  ~Trevor

  “My dear brother.” Brandon popped his head into Trevor’s chambers, where the latter had been writing at his desk.

  Trevor jumped.

  “You ass,” Trevor retorted, throwing a crumpled piece of paper at him. “I told you not to do that—you sound like an idiot, by the way.”

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Brandon shrugged. “How else am I supposed to ask for your help?”

  Trevor groaned. “Whatever it is—no.”

  “But you don’t even know what I’m—”

  “No.” Trevor turned his back to his brother and picked up his pen.

  “Just listen!” Brandon walked up behind him.

  “No!” Trevor didn’t even look up from his letter. The last time he'd helped Brandon, he'd had bruises for weeks.

  “Lady Elaine and Lady Florence LaVelle are—” Brandon started to say, sitting on the far edge of Trevor’s desk.

  “What? Lady Florence?” Trevor’s head snapped up.

  “Oh, now he wants to listen,” Brandon said with a grin. “Except now I don’t feel like talking.”

  Trevor narrowed his eyes at his brother. “But...didn’t you say you needed my help?”

  Brandon rubbed the stubble on his chin, attempting to look thoughtful, though Trevor could easily see past his brother’s bluff—after all, he had nearly twenty years of experience learning his brother’s tells.

  “I suppose you’re right,” he eventually conceded. “Originally, Lord Miles was to accompany his sister, Lady Elaine, here for tea. That’s the official reason. Unofficially, she’s coming for us to feel one another out for marriage.”

  Brandon wrinkled his nose.

  Trevor felt his jaw loosen in surprise. “Lady…Elaine?”

  “Yes. However, Miles had…something come up, so he stuck his youngest sister as our chaperone instead. You know Lady Florence, don’t you?”

  “I do,” Trevor said carefully. What was Bran getting at?

  “Good, then you can join us for tea. I can think of nothing more awkward than having tea alone with someone who would rather be anywhere but here with me.”

  What in the Saint’s name was that supposed to mean?

  “Very well,” Trevor replied. “I’ll join you. How about we move it to the greenhouse or garden? It looks lovely outside.”

  In truth, it looked a little cloudy, but Trevor needed an excuse to wear his dark glasses to help prevent Florence from recognizing him.

  “Wherever you think is best…I care not.” Bran shrugged and hopped off the desk. “It’s in about two hours. Make sure you’re bathed and ready—you stink of sweat.”

  After Bran left, Trevor sniffed beneath his arm and found he did, indeed, stink of the practice yard, where he had spent several hours that morning sparring with Jerrome.

  “Well, best get to it,” he said to himself, getting to his feet. He yelled for his manservant, “Carl!”

  A couple hours later, with Carl’s expert assistance, Trevor looked every part the gentleman…including his dark glasses.

  “Must you?” Bran asked, sitting across from him while they waited for their guests to arrive.

  “My eyes are sore,” he replied. “But I’m sure the ladies will love it out here, so it’s a shame to shut them indoors on my account.”

  Lies—but whatever it took for Florence not to recognize him as Thorne, he’d do it.

  They were late.

  “So, they mean to start off with an insult,” Brandon commented with a sigh. His face was impassive, so Trevor could not tell if he truly felt insulted or not. “I can hardly blame them. After all, rumor has it she’s still very much in love with her former fiancé.”

  Oh. Things started to fall into place after that. Trevor was by no means an expert at the intricacies of high society communication, but even he could discern the subtle hostility displayed by both Lady Elaine and, surprisingly, Lady Florence during their teatime.

  Was she sticking up for her sister? It seemed that way. Trevor had to stop himself from smiling more than once at her performance—despite the tea being “bitter,” she drank it all; despite the cakes being “dry,” she still blinked slowly while she ate them (yes, more than one), as if she savored them. And despite the conversation being “dull,” she certainly had much to say.

  Lady Elaine didn’t have to try nearly so hard. Her lack of enthusiasm made conversation a battle for Brandon, which elated Trevor. He loved seeing his brother suffer. However, he did aid him a few times by engaging Lady Florence in conversation since he knew more about her. This gave Lady Elaine time to sit quietly, which she seemed to need.

  Eventually, after the appropriate amount of time had passed, Lady Elaine and her sister made their excuses and readied to leave. Brandon offered his arm to Lady Elaine, leaving Florence to Trevor.

  Lady Elaine adopted a brisk pace, pulling Brandon to the exit of the garden quickly. To Trevor’s surprise, Florence did not hurry to keep up.

  “Lord Trevor,” she began, walking leisurely, “I hope I didn’t offend you too greatly. I only did as my sister asked me to.”

  “I understand,” he replied. And he truly thought he did—he believed he could imagine loving someone so deeply that their absence was physically painful, even if he hadn’t experienced it himself.

  Florence looked up at his face for a moment as if testing his words for sincerity. Satisfied, she looked away.

  “We haven’t yet set a time to have that beverage you mentioned,” she commented. “What was it called again?”

  “Ah. Coffee.” This was getting dangerous. ‘Sir Thorne’ and ‘Ren’ were planning a late-night cafe business together, while ‘Lady Florence’ and ‘Lord Trevor’ were planning an outing to a cafe to try the very beverage that they would be serving. “Do you have time before noon? It’s probably best to try it early in the day your first time.”

  “Yes, on Larasdays and Uansdays I have a break in my classes from half-past-ten to noon.”

  “Then, shall we meet at the cafe called Court Vanilla Coffee Cafe, near the library on the Academy campus, at eleven in the morning?”

  “I’ll look forward to it,” Florence said, stopping. They were nearing earshot of the carriage, which Elaine had just climbed into with the help of Brandon. “Um, please don’t look poorly upon Elaine. She is…not herself. Thank you for the tea. It, uh, wasn’t...terrible.”

  Trevor bit down on his tongue to keep from grinning.

  Then, Lady Florence curtsied, Trevor bowed, and he escorted her to the carriage to help her in.

  “Well,” Brandon said once the carriage had left the yard. “I can’t say I like the idea of taking another man’s place, but if I were forced to marry her, I don’t think I’d mind.”

  Trevor whipped his face to the side, sliding his glasses down his nose. He took them off and pocketed them. Brandon and Lady Elaine? Really?

  Shit. That would complicate things.

  “My, my, brother!” Trevor said instead. “Who knew you had this secret desire to play the hero, swooping in to rescue the heartbroken maiden from her despair?”

  “Oh, shut up,” Bran replied. “Besides, it’s not like we’re strangers—we’re neighbors. We practically grew up together.”

  “Are you trying to convince me,” Trevor asked, putting a hand on his brother’s shoulder, “or yourself?”

  “Come on, you have to admit Lady Elaine is beautiful.”

  “Of course she is. They both are! That’s not the point, Brandon. Don’t you have anyone you actually like?”

  Brandon’s mouth snapped shut. A slight flush slowly crept down his cheekbones.

  “You do, don’t you?” Trevor shouted, grabbing his brother’s shoulders and shoving him back and forth. Despite his brother’s advantage in years, Trevor had the advantage in height and could easily toss Brandon around. “Come on, let’s go get you a proper drink, and you can tell me everything. Consider it my payment for helping you this afternoon.”

  A long, heavy sigh groaned its way out of Brandon before he eventually uttered, “Fine.”

  Oh my! Two ladies for two lords? ...not if Trevor has anything to say about it!

  "Who is Kitty Blush?" Please put any questions you have for me in the comments!

  xo??kb