"What makes you happy is that my predicament leaves you free for a while to continue enjoying your bachelorhood," growled Nicolas, standing up to go to the screen, recessed in a corner.
"That too... At last justice has been done! All my life living under strict upbringing and continual pressure, driving me mad to choose a wife, while you were occupied only with your life of pleasures. Now the tables have turned, dear brother, and it's you they're going to pester until they achieve their goal," he confessed with a theatrical gesture and dramatic tone.
"Shut up now! Don't be so quick to claim victory, we still need to know what our lawyer has found out. I have my hopes pinned on him," he cut him off sulkily, beginning to dress under his brother's gaze.
"As the great sage said, "Hope is the bane of the innocent." "Colin announced, in a solemn voice, as if he were reciting holy scripture.
"I never heard that. You made that up! "she accused him with a frown.
"Of course I didn't! In fact, if it weren't for the fact that you were sitting next to me during every lesson, I would say that you had no education at all," he replied offended, shaking his head.
"Are you my new valet? Because if you are, you can consider yourself fired, you're inept. Seriously, you can fuck off, Colin," he said, irritated by his twin's taunts. He knew where he'd gone and he wasn't in the mood.
"Anyone would think you're the older brother and not the other way around," Colin joked, swinging his feet, sitting on the bed.
"Because I am, I'm convinced. I don't understand why you came out first, someday my theory will be confirmed to be true. But it's just looking at you and knowing who's older. I'm smarter, faster and better looking than you," he replied, happy to be able to bother his brother with something.
"Again with that stupid theory. Face it, brother, you're the youngest. Such foolishness will never be proven. The baby that comes out first is the oldest, and there's nothing you can do about it. And let me tell you that you overestimate yourself, the only thing you surpass me in is structure, because you look like a bully, while I am the Romeo described by Shakespeare " irritated Colin, who had a romantic look: light blue eyes, blond hair, slender and well formed body, he was the living portrait of his mother, Annel. Nicolas, on the other hand, had inherited his father's stocky anatomy, eyes and black hair.
"History will prove me right," said Nicolas, ignoring her retort.
"Aren't you going to tell me how it went with the Marquis' daughter last night? "asked the blond, abruptly changing the subject.
"No," Nicolas answered dryly, finishing knotting his handkerchief and heading for the door.
"I know something happened. You didn't come back to the salon and she appeared very upset and, claiming a headache, asked her father to come home. What happened in that garden? Did you get her to fall in love with you? "asked Colin, tirelessly, walking behind him.
"I don't want to talk about that woman. She... she... She hates me! "Nicolas shouted a few minutes later, sitting across from his father.
"Well, you'll have to sort it out, and fast," Arthur answered sharply.
"It's not just that, I don't want to marry Lady Catherine. There must be another way," he said desperately, looking at the thin and now blushing man sitting next to him.
"I am sorry, my lord. I have studied the document in detail and there is no room for confusion. The former Lord specified his last will with complete clarity. His successor and candidate for the title must be married by the time he reaches the age of thirty," the lawyer explained earnestly, extending to him the will of his distant uncle, now dead.
The inheritance had fallen to him unexpectedly, since the heir of the Lord of Lancaster had died in a hunting accident, at the young age of twenty. His uncle's lawyers had traced the family tree back to his father, who was the Lord's great"nephew and who, being a marquis, left him, his untitled youngest son, as the new Lord of Lancaster. For anyone, this would be a cause for celebration, for he would no longer have to depend on the generosity of his father and in the future of his older brother. He would have his own fortune and his own mansion. And at first, that was how it was for Nicolas, who already imagined how he would spend his uncle's immense fortune and how he would enjoy himself with his newfound status. Until his lawyer appeared and showed him the will left by the deceased count's lawyers.
"So there is no alternative? "Nicolas asked once more, looking crestfallen at the papers he held, aware of what the answer would be.
"None, my lord. If you do not meet the requirements, you will lose the title. We will try to find another candidate, and if we don't find him, the properties, the title, the money, everything, will return to the crown. "The lawyer explained, adjusting his glasses on his long nose.
"Which brings us to the first topic, son. Your thirtieth anniversary is two months away. Apart from the fact that you will not be accepted by practically no family, due to your dismal reputation, and that you have no decent time to choose a lady and initiate a courtship, you must add that you must get married and have a child on the way in two months' time. Forget about the young lady's ugly looks, she is a good girl, she will be a suitable wife for you. She is docile and shy, she will surely be flattered by your interest and, besides, she is your only option "said the marquis, laconically.
"But she won't accept me, the young lady hates me," he replied frustrated, and almost choked when he heard that description, not at all accurate.
Lady Catherine had not seemed docile, much less obedient, quite the contrary, and her cheek could attest to that. Something told him that this young lady's main virtue was not to be compliant; and that the last thing she wanted was a marriage proposal. Nicolas avoided answering about the lady's physical appearance, because only images of her bright gray eyes came to his mind, eyes that he had not ceased to recall. Images that he had incessantly repressed, failing miserably, for he kept thinking about that encounter, those full lips and that gray gaze.
"So, the time has come to prove years of proclaiming your supposed superiority, brother. You have one month to reverse that idea and conquer the reluctant damsel. You'll be the cunning cat that won over the timid mouse," Colin interjected shrewdly, his words plunging the room into a dismal silence.