Page 9 of If the Duke Demands

The middle Carlisle brother was most likely still outside saying his good-byes to Diana Morgan and her parents. General Morgan had been invited to the house party because he was an old friend of Richard Carlisle’s from their army days, yet the attention Robert had paid to the man’s daughter had surprised the entire Carlisle family. Especially his mother, whom Sebastian knew was torn between encouraging the match and convincing the poor girl to flee for her life.

Mother shook her head. “He’ll be here as soon as he can.” She smiled, her eyes sparkling. “No need for him to be rude to the Morgans by hurrying them along.”

Sebastian crooked a brow. So his mother had come down on the side of the match after all. Poor girl, indeed.

“Then let’s begin.” He sat behind the desk and settled in for the meeting. “We need to discuss the family’s plans for the upcoming season.”

Normally, family business wasn’t conducted so formally. All of them preferred instead to discuss their plans casually during dinner or over coffees in the drawing room afterward, then be content to let Sebastian take care of all the details. But this season’s difference filled the air with a crackling electricity, and he wanted to make certain everything went smoothly in London for them. For once.

He owed it to his mother as well as to the title—and especially to his father’s memory—that this season the Carlisle brothers didn’t behave like…well, the Carlisles.

They’d terrorized the Lincolnshire countryside since they’d first learned to walk, then moved on to plague Eton and Oxford in turn. So it had only been a matter of time until the three of them focused their attention on London, where the whiskey was stronger, the card games played for higher stakes, and the women were decidedly more sophisticated. Until four years ago, what they’d done in the city hadn’t mattered much, with their family having almost no social standing among the quality despite their father’s barony, leaving them free to gamble, brawl, and chase women to their hearts’ content.

Then everything changed. His family was granted the former Earl Royston’s estate when the earl committed treason. At first, their family received only the land, not the title, but when the Regent was petitioned by Edward Westover, Duke of Strathmore, and Lord Bathurst, Secretary of State for War and the Colonies, both men made clear exactly how much the Carlisle family had participated in exposing Royston’s treason and in preventing the slaughter of the War Office’s best agents overseas. Prinny relented and bestowed a new dukedom.

Overnight, the Carlisle land holdings more than quadrupled in size, and their modest wealth became a fortune. No one could overlook the three brothers’ antics now, and whatever anonymity they’d had as sons of a baron disappeared as sons of a newly minted duke. Sebastian knew even then what the others had yet to realize.

What Prinny had granted wasn’t an award but a punishment.

Then the worst came. His father was tossed from his horse, struck his head, and died. The loss had been devastating to all of them, and their grief had been debilitating for months. But Sebastian didn’t have time to flounder. All the responsibility for the estates and the family had landed directly on him, and he worked his way through his grief by working his way through the estate books.

Nearly two years had passed, and not one day had yet dawned when the family didn’t feel Richard Carlisle’s absence. So the house party they’d held during the past sennight—the first soiree of any kind since Father’s death—signified more than his mother’s birthday. It was also a marker of all the changes their family had endured during the past few years and survived. And privately, Sebastian hoped they could once again focus their attention on the future and on protecting the reputation of the family. Especially from themselves.

He leaned back in the leather chair. “For once, we’re all going to London and remaining there for the entire season.” He paused meaningfully. “Together,” he emphasized, letting the gravity of that settle over them. “So I think it’s vital that we discuss our plans.” He narrowed his eyes at Quinn, knowing the trouble his brother could cause. “Allour plans. So we can avoid any problems which might arise.”

In the past, the Carlisle family had never all been in London at the same time. His father had sat for every Parliament session, taking his position as baron seriously although he’d never acquired much political power in the Lords. Mother and Josephine went only to purchase a few dresses,ifJosie went at all because his sister preferred to remain at Chestnut Hill to help with the children at the Good Hope Home. And all three brothers came and went as they pleased, sometimes not seeing one another for weeks even while residing within the same London town house.

But this year, circumstances brought them all together for the season. Josie now lived in London with her husband, Thomas Matteson, Marquess of Chesney, and their children. Sebastian was required to attend Parliament, having more power within its committees than his father could ever have imagined, and while he sat in the Lords, Elizabeth Carlisle would visit with Josie and her family. Robert would undoubtedly spend his time courting Diana Morgan. As for Quinton,hewas going only so Sebastian could keep an eye on him.

“I’ll be residing with Josephine and Chesney at Audley House,” his mother volunteered to start the conversation, “leaving you and your brothers at Park Place.” Her shoulders heaved with a long sigh borne of years of suffering her sons’ wild antics, and she slid a sideways glance of warning at her youngest son. “Please don’t burn the place to the ground.”

“Well, there go my May Day plans,” Quinn muttered, only half-sarcastically.

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. Oh yes, Quinton was certainly coming to London, where he wouldn’t let his brother out of his sight until June. Of next year.

“No May Day?” Robert sauntered into the room, interrupting what had been a promising start to the conversation and now throwing it into chaos.

Quinn gave his brother a deflated look as Robert crossed to the coffee service on the side table and reached for the urn. “No bonfire.”

Robert paused mid-pour, aghast. “Where’s the fun in May Day without bonfires?”

“I know.” Quinn grimaced. “So much for our Maypole.”

“Did she cancel the donkey rides, too?”

Elizabeth Carlisle rolled her eyes in weary exasperation, and Sebastian couldn’t help but smile. His younger brothers had plagued their poor mother with one wild scheme after another all their lives. Even now, as grown men responsible for helping with the dukedom, the two couldn’t help but antagonize Mother every chance they could.

Looking at his brothers now and hearing the relaxed rhythm of their banter, it would have been easy to believe that they were the same as they’d always been, that their father’s death hadn’t changed them. But Sebastian knew better. It had changed all of them to their cores.

In the dark months following Father’s passing, both of his brothers had matured quickly and stepped up to assume large responsibilities for the dukedom. In that, they’d proven themselves well—Quinton as a successful estate agent, assuming supervision for the day-to-day operations of the workers and tenants, and Robert as a sharp business mind, taking on the bank accounts and business investments where a large portion of the family’s wealth was kept. Sebastian had been grateful for their help, knowing neither brother had to work given the ten thousand pounds each had inherited. Quinton had stashed his away, with dreams of buying his own land as soon as Sebastian found an agent to replace him here, while Robert had invested his in business ventures and nearly doubled it already, earning himself a fine reputation as a businessman in the process.

But when the two of them were together like this, they fell back into old habits, giving a glimpse of the rascals they’d been only a few short years ago.

Some things never changed. Sebastian only hoped thatthisseason no donkeys were painted green in the process. Or set on fire.

“Are the Morgans off, then?” he asked as Robert splashed a generous amount of whiskey into his coffee, then fixed a second cup when Quinn gestured for one.

“Just.” Robert handed the coffee to his brother and sat down heavily onto the empty chair, kicking out his long legs. “I promised to call on them as soon as we arrive in London.”