Four
“Jesus, man, I didn’t realize decorum in the military had sunk so low as to slight women.”
John Breckenridge leaned against the dark fireplace mantel and crossed his arms, glaring across the private room at his austere elder brother. “The answer is no,” he said, ignoring Colton’s jibe and cutting straight to the point. “I am not going to court some woman you carried on with and then cast aside just because you have a guilty conscience.”
“Come now, John, I’m not asking you to marry the girl. Just call on her a time or two, and bring her a few trinkets. Make her feel liked and special for a couple of weeks.”
“You’re an ass.”
Colton flashed a self-deprecating smile and ambled across the room with the assured confidence of a man who always got his way. “So I’ve been told.” A moment of silence reigned before he met John’s glare. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to get back on the horse, Johnny. It’s been five years.”
John gritted his teeth and shoved away from the mantel. “I don’t need to be reminded.” An iron poker rested beside the cold fireplace. He wrapped his fingers around the handle and lifted it, contemplating the dulled tip. “Is all this some elaborate means of shoving a woman down my gullet?”
“No. Though I think you could use one.” Colton paused, dropping a pointed gaze to John’s trousers. “Wouldn’t want your cock to fall off from lack of use.”
“Shut up, Colt.” John dropped the poker before the cold hearth. “Not all of us feel the need to crow every time he takes a woman to bed. Do you need a following of unsuspecting young misses to feel like a man?”
A dangerous gleam lit Colton’s eyes. “At least I know what to do with a willing woman. You’re so cynical a common whore wouldn’t bed you.”
John scoffed and strode toward the door. He had no desire to swap insults with the spoiled duke. As one of the most powerful Peers in Britain few told Colton no.
“Wait.” Colton reached out, the gesture all but begging John to stay. “I can make it worth your while.”
“Money won’t fix all of your problems, Colt.”
“If you pay court to Lady Penelope I will give you the Egyptian urn.”
John ground to an immediate halt, whipping back to face his brother. “You jest.” The smooth black urn with gold inlay outlining intricate hieroglyphics flashed through John’s mind.
“I am deadly serious. If you do this for me I will give you the urn.” A hint of desperation marked Colton’s typically unfettered appearance, piquing John’s interest.
John folded his arms over his chest. “What the hell did you do?”
