Page 75 of A Virgin for the Rakish Marquess

James looked up at his friend. He saw genuine concern in his eyes. It would have been so much easier if Richard did what everyone else did—blame everything on him.

“Solomon invited Diana to tea behind my back.”

“Oh.” Richard sighed. “Don’t tell me you blamed Diana for it.”

James looked away.

“You bloody idiot!”

“She was trying to tell me that Solomon was struggling, that I should give him a chance.” James got up and started pacing.

“How absolutely monstrous of her to want you to have a relationship with the only parent you have left,” Richard snapped.

“What relationship?” James shouted. “The man abandoned me when I needed him the most! I was thirteen! I just lost my mother, and he just sank in his sorrow. As if I wasn’t enough reason for him to live!”

James was fuming, his body tense, his features distorted, and yet his blue eyes hid something that looked more like regret than anger.

Richard leaned back as if he was physically hit. Then, he looked at his friend and nodded. “I understand. It was cruel what happened to you. You have every right to be angry with Solomon.”

James’s chest was heaving, and he was frowning. He staggered back to support himself against his desk. It was as if saying those words out loud took every last ounce of energy he had left.

“Have you told him how you feel?” Richard asked.

James looked down, his shoulders sagging. “What difference would it make?”

“James, you’ve been running all your life, ever since I met you. Too afraid to sit still for one moment.”

The two friends looked at each other, and a deep understanding passed between them.

“Do it for yourself, my friend. Just say what weighs down your soul. You might be surprised.”

James straightened his back. He was tired, but not in a way that would make him just give up. Not in a way that would make him think that things could not get worse, so he might do as he felt.

Richard was right. James couldn’t live in this constant anger. He had let this grievance define him for too long. He had held onto it for far too long. It was time to put it to rest.

“And have a bath, for Christ’s sake.” Richard smiled.

James snorted.

James stood outside the house he grew up in and looked at it as if for the first time. He had so many fond memories there. There was so much love in this house. The three of them. They had loved each other so much, and their love multiplied when it came to him. A life filled with laughter and hugs and smiles and jokes.

He clenched his jaw as he entered the house. The butler did not dare to stop him as he stormed to his father’s study. He found him sitting at the desk, a glass of brandy in hand.

Solomon barely raised his gaze as James pushed the door open. “James.”

The greeting was measured.

“You had no right.” James slammed the door shut behind him.

Solomon raised an eyebrow. “Come now, son. A man should be more specific when making accusations.”

James balled his fists. “Diana. You had no right to go behind my back.”

“I was merely trying to see if the girl was a suitable match.”

James saw red. The outrageous man had left him to assume the duties of a duke when he wasn’t ready. Now, he had the nerve to meddle in his life because he “was feeling better” as if he had the flu and was indisposed for a few days.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” James spat.

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