The Reluctant Duke (A Seabrook Family Saga)(45)

Thomas approached the bed, crossed his arms on his chest, widened his stance, and glared at him. “If you think for one minute Myles and I will give you that drug that nearly killed you, you are out of your bloody mind.”

“Why?” he shouted back. “If you do, I’ll get better.”

“You will feel better, not be better. And only until the next time,” Myles interjected. “And next time you will find yourself in a box. I refuse to help you kill yourself. What is so bad in your life that you want to die?”

Amesbury groaned and yanked on his dark brown hair. Strands came away in his fingers. “You would not understand…you two with your perfect families.”

He could not help himself; Thomas burst out laughing. “Perfect? Have you been to my house lately? Sebastian is love sick for Emma, and I . . .” Both his friends looked at him. “Never mind what I am. A war between my younger brother and me is fated to happen. Two brothers cannot share the same woman.”

“Ahhh, so you do want her for yourself?” Amesbury’s eyes showed signs of life, which was good.

“Indeed, and I’m going straight to hell for it. But yes, I want her. Sebastian, with his bloody nobleness and impeccable manners, wants to marry her. As opposed to me; I want only to possess her shamelessly.”

“Has he approached you about it?” Myles asked.

“No. But I know my brother. He will not wait long. And God forgive me, I don’t think I can give my permission. I am the vile degenerate she called me––and worse. I cannot possibly marry her, yet I don’t want anyone else to either. I’m a dog in the manger…no, the worst creature on earth. What was her father thinking when he sought me out to be her guardian? He obvious did not research my true character.”

And God help him, if she ever found out the truth of it all. She would hate him, which provided all the more reason to encourage a union   between her and Sebastian. Thomas’s large hand rubbed his chest unconsciously.

“Never mind about me and my sad song.” He eyed Amesbury. “This is about you.”

“Is that a book of Byron’s poetry in your pocket?” Myles asked.

Thomas pulled his waistcoat to cover it, denying all the while that it was a book of love poems.

Amesbury groaned and wrapped his arms around his stomach. “Forget love songs and give me what I want. Do you have any idea what I feel? My stomach has declared war on me; my body is shaking, not only on the outside, but in. And invisible ants are crawling all over my skin.” He groaned again. “And my mind is screaming for the stuff. I need it. I need it now.”

Amesbury’s voice softened. He turned to Thomas and Myles and reached out his hand, pleading.

“Don’t you see? I need it. I can’t live without it. The drug and my need for it have taken over my every waking moment of every single day. It is all I think about. And when I take it, it’s this incredible bliss. Bloody ass! I need it.”

Mouth open, Thomas stared at Amesbury and wondered where his friend from their Eton and Cambridge days had gone. Where was the amiable and likable gentleman everyone thought so highly of? What had happened to cause this? Would he ever know?

“I’ll be back.” Thomas raked his hands through his hair. After spending the night and most of the morning with his friends, he would head home for a short while, then come back and give Myles a chance to do the same. “Are you two going to be fine for awhile?” Thomas prayed they would. He needed a bath and a change of clothes. Maybe then he could think straight enough to help his friend.

***

Once Thomas arrived at Wentworth House he handed the stable groom the reins of his horse, Nightmare. He took the front steps two at a time and burst through the doors without waiting for the doorman. Giles, as if anticipating the duke’s return, came forward quickly and took his hat and cloak.

“I’ll have a bath readied immediately and food sent up, Your Grace.” Giles surveyed him, frowning. “Is there anything else you need? And if I may ask, how is His Lordship?”

Thomas sighed deeply, reining in his emotions. “Lord Amesbury is doing much better this morning.”

“Thank God for that,” Giles replied, still stoic.

“Are there any messages? Has my family been looking for me?” Thomas asked, hoping the answer would be no.

“The dowager duchess and Lord Sebastian would both like a word with you.”

“Thank you.”

“I will be up to assist you with your bath and bring your tray,” Giles said.

“Just have the tub filled. I want to be alone and I’m not hungry.”