Page 64 of Hawthorne

Growing up, Vincent was always kind and charming to me despite the slight age gap. He was patient and attentive and did my bidding most of the time. It was refreshing to have someone to play with other than my mother. Of course, I would feel drawn to him.

Those few days together brought that connection back to the surface, and it’s only making things harder for me.

We know we shouldn’t have given in. I know better. For the past week, I’ve been holding on to whatever restraint is left because if I let go, I’ll be doomed.

“Oh, you have a dog?” a male voice startles me.

Turning around, with my hand clutching my chest from the scare, I find the duke’s youngest brother crouching down to pet Primrose.

“She’s such a cutie!” he exclaims, focused on her. Primrose, being the lover of attention she is, lies on her back, begging for belly rubs. “Does my brother know?”

“Yes, of course!” I answer, offended. “At some point, I thought about hiding her, but he quickly discovered her, and to be honest, I am way less worried now that he knows.”

“Hmm, he likes you then.” His comment is loud and clear, but he doesn’t let his attention on Primrose waver.

My heart goes into a rage fit, trying to beat its way out of my chest.

“What do you mean?” I voice my thoughts.

“You have to understand my brother’s education was…” Edgar trails off, stopping himself for a moment. “My brother was never allowed to play with me growing up. He was always too busy doing something our mother had prepared. His education was demanding and overbearing.”

That is not the Vincent I met, but then again, we were only together in an environment that was not controlled by his mother.

“I could only truly bond with my brother once we were both much older and he had been able to reduce the level of control imposed on him. My childhood was kind of lonely in that sense, but Vincent’s was much worse.”

“Really?” I ask, sitting down on a bench close to them. “He looks fine to me.”

“He ended up quite…well. At least, for the circumstances.” He stands and looks at me with a kind smile. “But he never bonded with friends when he was younger, let alone animals…”

“Are you sure?” I question when he sits down by my side. “He was very friendly with her. And she belonged to Her Grace, Mrs Hawthorne, originally.”

Primrose follows him and places her front paw on his legs, a couple of barks quickly letting us know her intentions. He surprises me by bending over and catching her with one arm, bringing her to his lap.

“She is yours now, right?” I nod. “Then that’s what counts. Never thought my brother would be such a simp.” He smirks.

“Simp?” I ask, confused about what it means.

He laughs. “I only use proper vocabulary in front of mummy dearest, and that’s only sometimes. It means he is whipped, wrapped around your finger.”

“That’s not true.” I start to laugh nervously. “There’s no way the duke would even think abou—”

“Darling,” he cuts me off. “I’m his brother. He may not confide in me as much as I’d like, but I know him and his body language quite well. I grew up aggravating the hell out of him, and I know the guy is head over heels…” He pauses for a second, pensive with Primrose nestled on his lap. “Even if he is still in denial. I mean, you both are.”

“You’re not making sense,” I mutter.

“Believe whatever you want.” He chuckles, amused. “How are you, though? My mother can be quite malicious if she sees a threat.”

“How could I even be a threat?”

“Little Milla, darling…Vincent may think he is smooth, but even my mother can notice the way he looks at you. That in itself is a threat to the plans she has for her firstborn son.”

Vincent does look at me with fire in his eyes sometimes.It’s like he’s hungry, eager to get a taste. I believe I might do so, too. It’s exhilarating—I both love and hate it.

“Doesn’t she?” Edgar questions with a tilt of his head. “Was she ever nice to you?”

“No, but—”

“There you go,” he cuts me off. “My mother may not be upfront about it, but she is aware of more than we can realise sometimes.”

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