Guy could not help laugh to himself as he trudged across the lawns toward Harburgh House. After all, it wasn’t every day one ran into not one, but two wild, redheaded women. and wild was about right. He’d thought Miss Chadwick had suffered something terrible. Set upon by thieves perhaps given her appearance.

But no. It had all been about otters. He shook his head to himself. Otters. What a rare woman she was. What a furious woman she was. She had gone from hardly being able to say a word to tearing him apart in mere moments. The spark in her eyes as she’d declared him arrogant had been nothing short of fascinating.

As for the younger sister with her scrawny arms and tiny, bunched fists. He laughed again. She had to be the fiercest creature he’d seen in a long time. Too young to interest him but he certainly would not object to meeting either of them again. He imagined Miss Chadwick did not feel the same.

He followed the path around the building to the front door. The four towers of the building dominated the landscape. He had paid a modest sum for the house but it still needed work, having been neglected for a while. The previous owner had not been savvy with his money and the building needed modernizing as well as some tending to. All in all, it would sap his resources. Inheriting a title was no cheap matter. The taxes that needed to be paid on the estate were costly. His uncle had done his best to keep the ducal estate profitable and Guy would continue that, once he had paid off the taxes. But needs must. He had to leave London for Stephen’s sake.

Before he could open the door, the housekeeper stepped out. “Thank goodness, Your Grace. I was beginning to fret.”

“About me, Mrs. Keats?”

She gave a smile and a swift shake of her head. “Never. I know you can look after yourself, Your Grace. But Stephen has yet to return and one of the delivery boys said he was seen heading into The King’s Arms. That was a good four hours ago.”

Guy grimaced. If his brother had been at the inn for four hours, he’d been deep into his cups by now. At only seventeen, he had yet to learn how to handle alcohol. Or life for that matter. He gave another sigh. His fault really. He’d always fought to protect his brother from the realities of life. Their thirteen-year age gap had meant he had played more of a father figure than anything after Stephen’s father had died. There were many times when he wished he’d done a better job of it.

“I shall go and find him,” he told Mrs. Keats.

She nodded. “I hope he is not in any trouble.”

“I hope so too.”

They shared a look and he knew the housekeeper imagined it was unlikely he was not. Stephen had an uncanny ability to find trouble wherever he went. Guy had hoped by moving into the Hampshire countryside for a while, Stephen would settle and grow into the man Guy knew he could be. If there were only redheaded women around to distract him, perhaps he would not be so eager to spread his wild oats.

Would he see Miss Chadwick again? Guy made his way to the stables and ordered a horse saddled. She had to live locally if she was returning home on foot. If she and her sister were indicative of the women around here, then he would have no problems ensuring Stephen kept his breeches done up. Stephen preferred buxom brunettes typically.

Guy could see the appeal of a slender redhead, though. There was something intriguing about those fiery green eyes that sparked behind spectacles and wild curls falling about her forehead. Freckles had danced across her nose and a few lingered on her collar bone.

Yes, Stephen would never be interested.

He was, though.

Once the gelding was saddled, he rode hard toward the village. They’d been here for over a week now and he had done enough exploring to know his way around. It had been his first visit to the spot by the river, however. If he’d have known a muddy, damp, redhead would be there, he might have visited sooner, but he had been too busy making plans and communicating with a friend in London. That spot by the river had looked perfect on the sketches of the land surrounding Harburgh. However, he had not had the chance to ensure it was as good as it looked on paper. He would have to speak with Morgan and invite him to visit first but the chances were, it was as perfect as they’d hoped for their new venture.

One long path cut down the center of the village. It boasted a chandlery, bookstore, a butcher, and a greengrocer along with all the necessary things for the women of the area. Consisting mostly of white cottages, it was a good-sized village with everything one could wish for from the countryside. All in all, he could be quite content with settling here permanently. But really that depended what happened with Stephen.

He came to a stop outside of the inn. A few men lingered around the doorway, already deep in their cups despite it being early afternoon. Guy acknowledged them with a brief dip of his head and they moved out of his way. If they did not yet know who he was, he was imposing enough to ensure they caused him no problems. His height and the breadth of his shoulders usually worked that way for him.

Apparently, it was not enough to frighten a certain Miss Chadwick into silence. He smirked to himself as he ducked into the low door of the inn. Intriguing indeed.

The floor sticky underfoot, Guy stepped into the main parlor and scanned the patrons. A young barmaid was propped up against the bar talking to a scrawny, older lady who occupied one of the stools. Though it was not late in the day, there were plenty of customers. His gaze fell on his brother. He hefted out a sigh.

Stephen sat at one of the corner tables, two men at either elbow. Cards were scattered across the table along with a good bit of coin and Stephen’s pocket watch. Guy grimaced. His brother was lousy at cards and could not keep his tells from showing. If he had not already lost plenty, he was going to lose the rest.

He hung back for a moment and watched the game play out. Neither of the men Stephen was playing against looked the friendly sort who would appreciate an interruption.

Guy moved to the bar, keeping himself well back and out of his brother’s sight. He ordered an ale and nursed it. While he managed a few sips of his, Stephen drank a full beer and ordered another. Guy shook his head to himself. He’d overindulged him as a boy. Stephen’s father—Guy’s stepfather—had died when his brother was five. He knew well enough how painful it was to lose a father. He did not want Stephen suffering the same so he had taken it upon himself to look after him, even at the age of thirteen. He’d been Stephen’s shield from life.

And what a mistake that was.

Stephen had inherited the classic good looks of their mother. The same looks he had inherited. All the males on his mother’s side were lucky in that way. Dark and dashing from an early age. Unfortunately, Stephen made the most of it even at his age. He learned how to charm women early on and his propensity for bedding any woman he could woo was one of their reasons for moving here. Guy hoped the quieter community would make a difference and there were no clubs for him to vanish into and get into trouble.

There were, unfortunately, still inns. There was no avoiding these.

By the time Guy had finished his ale, Stephen had drunk several more and was clearly inebriated. He lost at cards which hardly surprised Guy. As the bearded man picked up the pocket watch and stuffed it into his jacket, his face a picture of triumph, Stephen thrust a finger at him.

“You cheated, sir. You damn well cheated.” His words were slurred.

Guy grimaced. This was not going to end well.

“How dare you?” said the man. “You lost and you lost fairly. Not my fault you’re a mug.” He grinned at his friend.

“How...” Stephen stood, wobbling as he did so. He put a hand to the table to steady himself. “How dare you? I did not lose! You cheated.”

The altercation was beginning to draw attention and the barmaid propped her elbows on the counter to get a better look. The man Stephen had accused of cheating glanced around and his face reddened.

“Now see here, you little bastard. I have a reputation to uphold. I never cheat. I just know when someone is bad at cards, that’s all.”

Stephen straightened. “I am no bastard, you-you ignorant oaf. I-I-I I am the brother of a duke. Now you will return my possssesssions.” He swayed and his back met the wall. The apparently sudden appearance of the wall surprised him and he jerked the other way, stumbling into the other man.

Guy came slowly to his feet. He’d hoped to get away without any interference but the way this was going, he’d have to be prepared.

The man shoved Stephen away from him, sending him into the fellow he’d accused of cheating. Face like thunder, the bearded man pushed Stephen back. Stephen gripped the table and nearly took it with him but somehow managed to stay on his feet. As the winner pocketed the rest of the coin, Stephen made a grab for his wrist and tried to pull apart the man’s hand to get at the money.

His friend swung the first punch. Stephen dodged it but caught a blow on his arm.

“Damn.” Guy could not sit and observe any longer. As much as he wanted Stephen to learn a lesson, his mother would not be impressed if he let him get beaten to a bloody pulp.

He stepped between the men, fending off the next punch from the man with the coin. The blow struck his forearm and rattled through him. Better him taking it than Stephen’s ribs, though. It likely would have broken them.

He grabbed Stephen by his collar and thrust him away from the men. Standing between them both, he held up his fists. “You’ve got your winnings. There does not need to be a fight.”

“He besmirched me,” the bearded man protested, pointing Stephen’s way.

“He did,” Guy agreed. “And he is sorry, are you not, Stephen?”

“Like hell,” Stephen spat. “He cheated.”

“Why you—”

Guy stepped in front of the bearded man. “I have no wish to fight but I will if I must. If I were you, I’d take your coin and be gone.”

The man eyed his frame, taking in the height and breadth of him. Guy did not make a habit of fighting—at least not since his younger years—but he could take both men if he needed to. He hoped they realized that and made the wise decision.

The other man nodded toward his friend. “Let it be. You won.”

The bearded man shook his head. “Not until I get an apology.”

“Stephen?” Guy asked over his shoulder.

He swayed a little and propped himself against the bar. “I’ve got nothing to apologize for.”

“Little bastard!” the man shouted and darted forward.

Guy thrust out his arm and knocked the man to the ground. He crashed to the floor, kicking up a cloud of dust. Those watching gasped and a woman somewhere screeched. Guy stood over him. He’d done little harm to the man, save from a few bruises. He bent over him and grinned. “Shall we leave it at that?”

The man pressed up onto his elbow and glowered at them both. “Fine. But I best not see him in here again.”

“Aye,” the barmaid agreed. “I don’t want no troublemakers in here.”

Guy sighed and straightened. “You will not see him here again, I promise.”

He grabbed Stephen’s arm and dragged him out of the inn. Stephen paused to rest against the hitching post. “You should have fought him. Taken back my coin.”

Guy shook his head. “If anyone deserves a beating, it’s you. We have been here a mere week and you are already angering the locals. What do you think people will say when they find out the local duke has been fighting with drunks?”

Stephen shrugged. “Why do you care? These people mean nothing. They are nothing.”

Guy pushed out a breath through his nostrils and grabbed him by the collar, hefting him up until his brother’s face turned red. “I should have let them beat you. Maybe then you would learn a lesson. Just because these people are not the cream of society, does not mean they are nothing. If I have my way, some shall work my land for a profit. A profit, I hasten to add, that will pay for your misdeeds.”

Stephen clawed at the hand holding him upright. “Think I’m going to be sick.”

He let him loose, thrusting him away. Stephen doubled over and retched onto the ground. Once he was done, he straightened and grinned.

“That’s better.”

“Is it?” Guy asked. “Because from where I am standing, it does not look better.” He shook his head and took his brother’s arm to drag him away from the inn. The sooner they were away from here the better. He would send one of his men back for the horse rather than fling his brother across the saddle and give him a ride he’d never forget. “It’s time to grow up, Stephen.”

“First I’m too young to be drinking and gambling, and next I need to grow up,” he muttered.

“I brought you here, at great expense I might add, so that you would have the opportunity to be the man I know you can be. Our mother will be visiting before long. I’d very much like to be able to tell her that your behavior has improved.”

Stephen waved a hand. “She will see that I am wasting away in the country. That I need to be back in society. Where all the fun is.”

“Sometimes life is not about fun. I should have taught you that a long time ago.”

“I know, I know. You should have abandoned me to the wolves instead of playing the protective big brother. Well, we cannot all be as self-sacrificing and perfect as you, Guy.”

“You think I am perfect?”

“Are you not?”

“Hardly.” If he were, he would not have enjoyed riling that redheaded Miss Chadwick so much earlier today. “I have gambled and drank until I was nearly blind. I have bedded women. But I bedded them carefully. And I drank and gambled with trusted friends. Discretely. And I knew when to stop. I still know when to stop. My duties come first.”

Stephen snorted. “Well, I have no duties, so what else do you expect me to do?”

Guy paused and eyed his brother. While he was nearly a man, he could not help but see him as that young boy who had lost a father at an early age. Stephen had that look now. The sense of loss lingered in his eyes.

“You want duties?”

Stephen considered this for a moment. “As long as they are not dull.”

“I cannot guarantee that. But if you want a part in making this estate a success, I shall give it to you.”

His brother pursed his lips and paused. Finally, he thrust out a hand. “It’s a deal.”

Before Guy could shake his hand, Stephen doubled over and threw up all over Guy’s boots. Guy rolled his eyes. “First, we had better sober you up.”