“To tell me to make sure I’m quiet while we have guests. He doesn’t want them finding out about me. I embarrass him.” William sits down on a sofa. “I think Bertha told him I was playing my guitar earlier.”
I sit next to him and place my arm around him.
“If you want to play your guitar, then play it. You’re good at it. You could be in a band. Ignore Bertha and the Duke. They’ve got no taste.” Bertha is my brother’s governess. He doesn’t need her — he’s twenty-six for god’s sake, but my father insists. She’s William’s jailer. The first thing I’ll do when I’m Duke is get rid of her and allow William to see the world. He’s been cooped up in this house since he was three. I hate it.
“I shouldn’t. The girls may hear me.”
“They’re my girls, not father’s. I’m not ashamed of you like he is.”
William looks down at his hands. He taps one, his left on his leg three times and then the right three times. His autism is focused very much around routine. It comforts him.
“I’m not, William, I promise. When I’m Duke, everything will change. Father will leave for the country, and we can rule together. Brothers side by side.”
“What about your wife?” he asks.
I go quiet.
“This doesn’t have to be your legacy, you know.” William offers with optimism in his voice. “Your succession could be different.”
“Not you as well. It can’t — I have to go through with this.”
“Not necessarily.”
“To try to end this madness would assign far too many people to death. You and the girls downstairs included.
I kick my shoes off and push back on his sofa, my head resting on the duck down cushion.
“I may not be seen, Nicholas, but I do a lot of seeing. She’s strong enough.”
What?” I rub my hands over my eyes. Now that I’ve laid my head down, my eyes are tired. The alcohol and the emotions are draining the strength from me.
“I may not remember Mother, but she was weak. Victoria isn’t”
“What has Victoria got to do with this?” My eyes drift shut. I’m trying to listen to him, but it’s becoming a struggle. William has always been a comfort blanket to me. We’ve snuck into each other's room since we were little. Thankfully, Bertha and our father only caught us a few times.
“You have goodness in you. You aren’t the devil Father wants you to portray.”
I yawn.
“I think you’re deliberately trying to confuse me. With all that ‘seeing’ you're doing, you must know I’ve drunk a lot of brandy.”
I fall asleep to William laughing at me.