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disappointed. She supposed he could be as other
men of her acquaintance. Adam and Levi knew there was no truth to
the myth about a lady’s passion. Tristan wasn’t exactly an idiot.
She realized any hopes she may have had about his losing interest
in her were for naught. If anything, she’d increased
them.
    Before he could act on what
he was obviously thinking, Raven spun around and practically ran
from the library.

    That did not go well, he
thought as he followed Raven out at a more sedate pace. What was it
about the woman that practically made him lose his head every time
she was in the room? It made no sense to him.
    He did think she was
probably the most beautiful woman in existence; she was most
definitely the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. But even that
didn’t account for his unpardonable behavior.
    Tristan moved through the
vast halls of Windhaven and soon arrived at the part of the house
in which resided his study. He didn’t want to deal with Greyden now
but he knew he had no choice. The man was becoming quite a
nuisance, making the family name a byword in Society.
    The duke entered the
somewhat small chamber and saw his brother rifling through one of
the drawers in his desk.
    “May I help you?” he
inquired icily.
    Greyden slammed the drawer
shut and gave his older sibling a mocking grin. “You could leave so
I could continue searching,” he suggested facetiously.
    “What the devil are you
searching for?”
    Greyden shrugged, his grin
firmly in place. “Nothing of any import, brother.”
    “Indeed,” murmured Tristan
thoughtfully. “Would you mind very much vacating my chair, then?”
His tone held that hint of command that he knew his brother
detested.
    Greyden’s grin faltered, a
look of malevolence passing briefly through his golden eyes. His
look became mocking again, however, as he rose to his feet. “By all
means, brother.” He gestured to the empty chair. “Please, sit,” he
invited with false sincerity.
    “Grey, if you were not my
brother, I’d beat you where you stand and throw you out the
window.” He frowned. “You are not everyone’s brother. Why has it
not happened yet?”
    “Stow it, Tris,” snapped
the younger man rudely. His grin returned easily enough making
Tristan frown heavily. “You know, brother,” mocked Greyden as he
came around the wide desk to stand on the same side as the duke, “I
could tell Grandmother who your little friend is. She always did
like me better, you know. She would love to have a reason to send
you away.”
    Tristan gave his brother a
confused look. “To what are you referring?”
    Greyden’s smile became
genuinely mirthful. He placed one hand to his brow in a gesture of
despair and muttered, “I do believe you are losing your mind, old
boy.” He dropped his hand, staring directly at his older sibling.
“The actress. The Swan. That woman of low morals you have had the
gall to place beneath Grandmother’s very nose. While I admire your
ever-increasing belief that you are supreme ruler of this
particular corner of Britain, I cannot help but wonder at your
sanity.”
    Tristan gave him an
incredulous expression. “Are you suggesting that Lady Rachael is a
woman of ill-repute? Where came you by this
information?”
    “What information?” He drew
the words out as if the duke were incapable of understanding the
king’s English. “I know that woman, brother. Intimately, you might
say. She is an actress or I’ll eat my hat.”
    “I hope you enjoy that,
Grey, because she is not an actress.” He saw the way Greyden
pinched his thumb and middle finger of his right hand together and
a smile crossed his face. “And you have never known her…intimately,
Grey. Don’t make a fool of yourself by inventing tales of your male
prowess.”
    Greyden folded his arms
over his chest and gave the duke a pitying look, shaking his head
sadly. “If you believe her lies, you are a bigger fool than even I
thought.”
    The duke returned