His Grace, The Duke: Second Sons Book Two

Rosalie gasped, feeling Burke’s arm go around her as he dragged her out of the way of Piety’s wrath.

The woman stormed into the sacristy, eyes murderous. “You swore!” she shrieked. “You swore to me you had no designs on the duke! You gave me your word, you wretched, unfeeling snake!”

“And I did not break my word,” Rosalie replied, eyes wild with confusion as she glanced from Piety to the duke.

“You have dashed all my hopes,” Piety sobbed.

“Whatever I did or said, I swear to you, it was wholly without intention,” Rosalie countered, looking desperately at the duke, willing him to intervene.

“George, please just explain yourself,” said James, inching closer to Rosalie.

The duke shrugged. “I just wanted to be brave for once. I wanted to believe I could have a say in my own life.” He glanced around at each of the faces in the room. “I’ve spent my entire life failing you. All of you. Over and over again. I fail you because I cannot bear to see those hopeful looks on your faces, daring me to rise to the occasion, rise to the great and noble task set for me as a duke of the realm.”

He turned to face the duchess. “Mama, I entered the world a disappointment to you. I was weak and mewling. My nursemaid told me how you could hardly stand to hold me. How I cried and squirmed like the devil’s own imp. Apparently, I was born to be your torment.”

“George…” she whispered, tears in her eyes.

He turned to his brother. “James, to count the ways I have failed you would take more time than we have left in our lives. I have been the worst possible example to you of what an elder brother should be. I have been selfish and insolent, dismissive, uncaring, unhelpful. I don’t deserve your fidelity.”

James crossed his arms. Rosalie saw how he struggled. His desire to placate his brother warred with his well-earned feelings of resentment and frustration.

The duke smiled weakly at Burke. “I’ve even failed you. I’ve never given you your due as an unspoken member of this family. I didn’t even ask if you wanted to be a ‘Corbin,’ I just thrust the name on you without a second thought. Do you?”

Next to Rosalie, Burke stiffened. “Do I want to be called ‘Corbin’?” He glanced from James to George and shook his head. “No, I will never be a Corbin. I am a Burke through and through.”

“The Burke name will get you nowhere in life,” the duchess retorted.

Burke had the audacity to smirk. “Good, then I shall be exactly where I want to be.”

“Oh, how can you be so aimless? So-so irrational? To take our name and marry Olivia Rutledge would secure you for life—”

“I am already secure,” he replied. “James provides me with all the living I need. I seek nothing else. If any of you had bothered to ask me, I would have told you how I felt.”

She raised an indignant brow. “So, you are content to just live in his shadow?”

He glanced at James and smiled. “Yes.”

The duke gave a curt nod. “Then it’s settled. My last act as duke will be to rescind the offer I made to you at the Michaelmas ball. You are no longer Horatio Corbin. And unless I am very much mistaken, you have no interest in being Baron Margate either…am I correct?””

Burke huffed a laugh. “George, I would rather chew off my own arm and throw it at the lady than take her hand in marriage.”

The duke smiled. “Then consider yourself free of her.”

The duchess swept forward. “George, you cannot do this. The agreement is already struck—”

“The way I see it, the only thing keeping their sham of an engagement in place is you, mama. I tell you now, it is done. You are to leave Burke and the lady alone.”

Rosalie could scarcely breathe. Was this all really happening? Was George Corbin finally standing up for himself? Standing up for his family? He’d apologized to James, freed Burke from his engagement. And now—

“Wait…Your Grace, you cannot do this,” Piety cried. “You cannot—where does that leave me?”

The duke turned to his teary-eyed bride. “My dear Piety, I would have hurt you worst of all. I am not fit to be any lady’s husband. You should walk out that door right now and thank your lucky stars for your escape.”

Her beautiful eyes were wide, her cheeks pink with emotion. She glanced from George to his brother to the duchess. “Well, don’t think I will go quietly, Your Grace!” she shrieked. “My father will be expecting a remittance for this. You cannot so greatly embarrass me and my family!”

“You’re not seeing the bigger picture,” he said with a sigh. “This will be wonderful for your social climbing career. As I fall from grace, my life burning all around me, you, my sugared date, may rise from my ashes as the one who got away. You’ll have to bat the men of the ton away with a stick.”

Before Piety could reply, a handsome woman appeared in the doorway. She held her chin high, her fashionable dress and powdered wig denoting her as someone of high rank. She cleared her throat with a little cough, eyes leveled on the duke. “Her Majesty asks to speak with you, Your Grace. Now.”