Roderick chuckled without humor. “You will forgive me if I indulge without you.”
The earl gave a small nod and strode confidently forward to sit in one of the high-backed chairs.
Roderick poured a brandy and joined his half brother, but he did not sit. Resting his forearm on the back of the other chair, he looked at the man who shared his blood but had never been family.
“From our last conversation, I had expected a visit from you sooner. What finally managed to drag you down to my humble address?”
At Roderick’s mocking tone, the earl narrowed his gaze. The muscles of his jaw worked as he clenched his teeth against an obvious desire to retort.
Roderick felt an unexpected flash of shame for the contempt he couldn’t seem to hold back. Then he reminded himself that the man before him had done nothing to earn his respect beyond being conceived on the right side of the bedcovers.
“To be honest, I did talk myself out of it more than once,” the earl stated blandly.
The admission surprised Roderick. “Indeed? Well, you are here now, and since I am sure this is not where you would prefer to spend your morning, you may as well get to the purpose of your visit.”
The earl did not reply at first.
But as Roderick watched him and waited, he saw the exact moment the other man seemed make a decision about something. He gave a barely perceptible sigh and lifted his hands to steeple his fingers against his chin. Blue eyes so similar to what Roderick saw every day in the mirror settled on him with unwavering intention.
“As you know, Father passed away nearly two years ago now.”
“Is that all it’s been?” Roderick replied. “Seems he’s been dead to me so much longer.”
The earl’s jaw clenched again, but he replied simply, “Yes, well, you are not the only one to utter such a sentiment. Due to your aversion to the man, you may or may not be aware of the fact that he was detested by many. And for good reason.”
Roderick tried not to react. He hadn’t known that actually, having done his best over the years to avoid any mention of the man who had betrayed his mother.
“Do not expect me to feel any pity.”
The earl arched his brows in surprise. “Of course not. Whatever you feel for Father is yours by right.” He glanced down, just a brief flicker of his gaze, before he recovered and looked back at Roderick. “I admit my own feelings are…complicated.”
His brother was ashamed. Roderick was certain of it.
“Father’s was a twisted soul. Dark and damaged by past events and personal betrayals. Of course, that does nothing to excuse his often reprehensible behavior.”
There was something in the way the earl spoke that caused a fine chill to sweep down Roderick’s spine, but he said nothing. Instead, he brought his focus inward, relaxed, and slowed his breath as he sought a connection with that part of him that rarely steered him wrong.
He acknowledged the fierce anger and hatred he harbored for the previous earl, but noted that the feeling did not transfer to his half brother. In fact, he experienced an odd sense of camaraderie that was wholly unexpected.
Roderick took another drink of his brandy, and the chill that had claimed him at the mention of his sire slowly dissipated in the wake of the liquor’s inherent warmth.
“The truth is, Bentley,” the earl said, reclaiming his attention, “you are my brother—”
“Half brother.”
The earl’s blue eyes narrowed at the interruption, but his gaze remained steady as he continued. “I am here to inquire as to whether or not there is potential for us to develop that association.”
Roderick stared at the earl. His mind was in furious rebellion against acknowledging what the earl had just suggested. The idea of accepting this man as a part of his life, even on the barest of terms, felt like a total betrayal of his mother, and his steadfast determination to reject a personal investment in his father’s world. But as he continued to stare at the earl—in utter shock, truth be told, though he was confident none of that reflected in his expression—he noted something interesting.
The earl, his half brother, was nervous. Though the man’s gaze held firm as he waited for Roderick to respond, there was tension in his hands as they rested innocuously on his knees. There was a hesitation about his mouth, as though he wished to say more, but would not.
Roderick came forward, finally taking a seat in the chair opposite his brother.
Something unfurled within him the longer he sat with the idea. It was an odd sensation, one he wasn’t prepared to describe or examine. But it compelled him to stop resisting what could not be denied.
This man shared his blood. They were not family, but they were related. Could they be more?