Page 4 of Taken By the Icy Duke

Leopold waved his hand dismissively, a flicker of anger crossing his face. “You must be the paragon of virtue, are you not? Always so quick to remind me of my flaws while hiding behind your title and rules.”

“This is not about me,” Gilbert said sharply, though his clenched jaw revealed a fleeting moment of unease. He scanned the cluttered room for a seat, but all the chairs were either occupied or too dirty for him to use.

“This is about your recklessness, your inability to think beyond yourself. And do not dare compare our choices. Since Father died, I have carried the weight of this family and covered for you more times than I can count, while you?—”

“While I did what I wanted,” Leopold interrupted, a bitter smile on his face. “Is that my crime, Gilbert? That I chose freedom while you shackled yourself to duty?”

Gilbert turned and stepped closer, his voice low and measured. “Your so-called freedom has left a trail of destruction, Leopold. Tonight, you added an innocent to that list. And I will not let you destroy her life or tarnish this family’s name simply because you refuse to grow up.”

“I seem to have upset you,” Leopold replied, sinking back into the seat. “Is this about Lady Whittaker? Tiresome woman. She overreacted entirely.”

Leopold carelessly scanned the room for a drink. Gilbert glared at him warningly, and Leopold rolled his eyes but picked up a half-empty glass of amber liquid from a nearby table. He ignored Gilbert’s stare with the nonchalance that Gilbert had long come to expect from his brother.

“She caught you alone with an innocent young lady, compromising her reputation in a way that could ruin her and her family. And you call that an overreaction?” Gilbert’s voice rose slightly. He took a steadying breath, willing himself not to lose control.

“It was an accident,” Leopold sighed, and reached for another glass on the table. “I had no ill intent. Miss Gillingham seemed perfectly capable of defending herself. Perhaps you should be scolding her for being so easily scandalized.”

The words ignited a fresh wave of fury in Gilbert, who stepped forward, snatching the glass from Leopold’s hand and slamming it onto the table.

“Do not dare shift the blame onto her,” he snapped. “This is your doing, Leopold.Yourrecklessness,yourdrunken stupidity. You are adisgrace.”

Leopold raised an eyebrow, though his smug expression faltered slightly under Gilbert’s glare. “Disgrace is a harsh word,” he replied nonchalantly. “Surely the world has seen worse scandals than this.”

“Do not test me, Leopold.” Gilbert narrowed his eyes, his tone cutting. “You may treat life as a game, but your actions have real consequences. You have dragged an innocent woman into your debauchery, and you will face the repercussions.”

“What repercussions?” Leopold groaned, rubbing his temples as if Gilbert’s words caused him physical pain. “Surely this will all blow over. These things always do.”

“Not this time,” Gilbert said firmly. “You will do the honorable thing and marry Miss Gillingham.”

Leopold sat up straight, his expression shifting from exasperated to incredulous. “Marry her? You cannot be serious.”

“I have never been more serious in my life,” Gilbert replied, his tone as cold as steel. “You compromised her and her reputation is now in tatters because of your behavior. There is no other option. You know this. It is not a new consequence of compromising a young lady.”

Leopold threw up his hands in frustration. “I barely know the girl! Marriage? That is absurd. Surely you cannot expect me to?—”

“I expect you to act like a man for once in your life,” Gilbert interrupted sharply. “You will not destroy her life because of your carelessness. This family has already suffered enough shame because of you.”

Leopold stiffened, his smirk finally fading. “That is unfair, Gilbert. You act as if I seek out trouble. It was a misunderstanding, nothing more.”

“Do not insult me by feigning ignorance,” Gilbert snapped. “You followed her and placed her in a position where she could not defend herself against the assumptions of those who saw you together. Do you know understand what that means for her? For her family? Or do you simply not care?”

“I do care,” he said defensively, throwing his head back against the chair as though Gilbert had demanded his execution. “Butmarriage, Gilbert? Honestly, you make it sound as if there areno other options. What if we simply... paid her family off? A tidy sum could smooth over many things, you know.”

“Money cannot buy back her reputation. Her life is now in shambles.” Gilbert’s expression hardened; his voice as cold as stone. “If you do not marry her, she will be shunned and cast out by the ton. No amount of gold will undo the whispers that will follow her for the rest of her life.”

Leopold rolled his eyes, dragging a hand down his face. “Fine, no bribes. What if I leave London altogether? A prolonged trip to the continent would surely take the pressure off. I could send letters of apology from Florence or Paris. That has a certain charm to it, does it not?”

“You speak of charm while leaving an innocent young woman to face ruin,” Gilbert snapped, stepping closer. “Running away will only confirm your guilt. You will not slink off to the continent like a coward, leaving her to suffer for your actions.”

Leopold waved a dismissive hand. “Coward, slink—it is all very dramatic. Perhaps I am simply more pragmatic than you. Time has a way of softening these things. Scandals come and go like the seasons.”

Gilbert’s jaw clenched, and when he spoke, his voice was sharp enough to cut. “This is not one of your trivial scandals, Leopold. You have tarnished the name of a respectable young woman from a struggling family. Time will not erase the damage you have inflicted.”

Leopold leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he shot Gilbert a bitter smile. “And marriage will? Tying myself to her will hardly fix everything. It will not make her happy, and it certainly will not make me so. And people will still talk.”

Gilbert steeled himself. On the night of the carriage accident he had vowed to safeguard Leopold. Every tense muscle in his body reminded him of the promise he had failed to keep so many years ago; the haunting vow to protect what little remained of his family.

He swallowed against the dryness in his throat, as he tried to push aside the flashes of memory: the bloodstained snow, his father’s final words, the desperate certainty that he had to remain strong because everyone he loved now depended on him. He forced his expression and tone into something cold and remote.

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