Heartless by Mary Balogh Page B

said. “Colby has been overstepping his bounds.”
    â€œMy steward?” Luke said. “What has he done that affects you?”
    â€œHe has returned all my bills to me in a neat bundle, that is what,” Ashley said. “Pox on it, Luke, can you imagine the insolence of the man? Said I had overspent this quarter’s allowance again and he could not pay ’em without your permission—for which I was to ask, not he.”
    Luke held out one hand, at which his brother stared blankly.
    â€œThe bills?” Luke said.
    Ashley flushed. “I did not bring them,” he said. “All you have to do, Luke, if you will, is instruct Colby to pay ’em and not be such an ass in the future.”
    â€œBills of what nature?” Luke asked.
    â€œCoats, waistcoats, shoes, canes, hats—how the devil should I know what they are for?” Ashley said perhaps a little too casually. “Be a good fellow, Luke. I never wished harm on George, I swear, but there was one thing I was glad of when he passed on and that was that you were then head of the family. You were always easygoing. I remember how you used to have the patience to play with me and with Doris too when we were children even though you were years older than us.”
    â€œAnd any other debts?” Luke asked, refusing to be diverted. “Gaming debts, for example?”
    Ashley’s flush returned. “As I live,” he said, “you are trying to get me to bare my soul, Luke. I suppose there are some. A fellow wins and a fellow loses. It is in the nature of gaming.”
    â€œWhen one consistently loses more than one wins,” Luke said, “perhaps it is in the nature of the player, my dear.”
    â€œPox on it,” Ashley said, shifting position uncomfortably in his chair, “must you call me ‘my dear’ in that soft voice, Luke, as if I was a girl? Are you saying I am not a good player?”
    â€œI made a statement,” Luke said, “not an accusation.”
    â€œEgad, you are not going to cut up funny, are you?” his brother asked, frowning. “You do not know what it is, Luke, to have to live on a pitiful allowance when there are appearances to keep up. You spend a fortune on clothes—I’ve seen some of ’em. I don’t need any expert to tell me they are Paris’s finest. Do you want your brother to look like a pauper?”
    Luke took a snuffbox from the pocket of his gown and proceeded to take some snuff. He looked inquiringly at his brother and offered the box, but Ashley shook his head.
    â€œPerhaps you forget,” Luke said, “that until two years ago I was also a younger brother, Ashley.”
    â€œYou have expensive tastes,” Ashley said. “I will wager Colby never refused to settle any of your bills.”
    Luke looked at him steadily from beneath lowered eyelids. “No, he did not,” he said. “None of my bills were ever sent to Colby—or to Father or George. My allowance was stopped the quarter after I left home.”
    His brother gaped at him.
    â€œYou will send me your bills later today,” Luke said. “I will pay them, but I will see them first. I will also make enquiries about the nature and amount of your allowance and increase it if I deem an increase to be called for. Beginning next quarter I will expect you to live on it.”
    â€œLive on it?” Ashley had turned quite pale. “Impossible, Luke. I would have to live at home.”
    Luke raised his eyebrows.
    Ashley got to his feet. “Word travels,” he said. “We have heard all sorts of things about you over the years, Luke—about your prominence at the French court, about your duels, about your fine women. I believed it all except for one thing. Word has had it that you are a heartless man, that you have feelings for nothing beyond your own pleasures. I always refused to believe that. I remembered the older brother who