Page 75 of Duke of Pride

“Such solemnity. It must be dire, indeed. A misplaced hair ribbon? Or—heaven forbid—did Cook run out of those little cakes you’re so fond of?”

Penelope shot him a warning look. “Maxwell.”

Victoria had had enough. She lifted her chin, meeting her brother’s mocking gaze head-on. “Even worse, dear brother. My greatest tragedy is that I’ve been forced to endure your sparkling conversation. How shall I recover?”

Maxwell opened his mouth to say something that would for sure ignite a new burst of frustration.

Deep down, Victoria was partly happy this was happening. Maxwell was her brother, and he loved her unconditionally. She could fight out her frustrations with him, be petty and loud, and somehow they would find a way to mend things.

“Miss Victoria, the twins are asking for you,” the butler announced.

“Saved by your kids,” she hissed at Maxwell and left the room.

* * *

It was much later when she went back down to the drawing room. She had fallen asleep in Camilla’s bed while reading a story.

She hadn’t slept well for days, and the sweet embrace of her niece and her nephew’s soft breathing was enough to lull her into sleep. So she asked for something quick to be brought to the drawing room because she missed dinner.

She was surprised to find Maxwell there, a ledger balanced on his knee. He looked up at her and smirked.

Victoria shot him a cold look that said,I am not in the mood, proceed with caution,and he retreated. For now.

“Are they asleep?” he asked.

“Yes, and they managed to put me to bed too,” she joked half-heartedly.

“It’s not like you have been sleeping these past few days.”

Victoria shifted her gaze to him. He seemed genuinely worried. And that was somehow worse.

Sibling rivalry and banter, she could handle all day long. But Maxwell demanding to know why she had not been sleeping? That was a completely different story.

“It must have been hard coming back here,” he said, setting the ledger aside. “I know you did it for Penelope and the twins, but?—”

“Not only for them,” Victoria interjected sincerely.

Her brother seemed genuinely surprised. He really thought that she didn’t want to see him, and that was why she was this lost. Her heart broke for him.

“Vicky.”

“Max.”

Both spoke in unison. And chuckled.

Victoria moved to the sofa and sat beside him. They twined their pinkies, counted to three, and pulled. It was their little ritual ever since they were kids, each time they talked at the same time. Warmth filled Victoria’s heart for the first time after she walked out of that thicket.

“Max, I appreciate everything you have done for me,” she said and took his hand. “What happened to us was not fair nor easy. And it was less of both for you. You shouldered a guilt and a duty too heavy for your age while?—”

“You know that I gladly took care of you, Vicky. You are my sister.”

“I know, Max. But you took on so much. And between our father not being one and you agonizing over our future, you were not my brother anymore. Not the boy I would pull pranks on, the one who loved fishing. You grew up so fast, so hard.”

Maxwell looks down at their joined hands. Every word she spoke was true, and no one argued.

The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across Maxwell’s face as he turned their joined hands over, studying them as if they held some unspoken truth.

“I didn’t have a choice,” he murmured, his voice rough.

---