Page 23 of Ashen Torment

And quite disrespectful.

His false composure and indifference do nothing but ignite in me the desire to push him ever further past the limit he strives to maintain, and to crumble the falsehood of his mannerisms.

Have I perhaps developed some perverse taste?

I turn toward my valet, clenching and releasing my fingers within the doeskin gloves until they adhere perfectly.

“Do you believe I am the devil, Laurence?”

His eyes widen for a moment. “Whoever suggested such an idea to you, my lord?”

“Answer, Laurence.”

He takes a step back, a slight smile curling the corner of his mouth. “Certainly not.”

“It is absurd.” I mutter.

I turn and head toward the door, my mind already elsewhere, as he follows behind me.

“Mr. Ravenswood desired to speak with you.”

“Did you inform him that I am occupied?”

“He insisted, and it is arduous—”

Rapid footsteps echo on the parquet, I lift my gaze as Lucien appears in the doorway.

“Dorian!”

“Brother, what brings you here at such an early hour?” I ask, suppressing a sharp sigh.

“I must speak with you. It is of the utmost importance.”

He turns toward Laurence, then back to me.

“A hunting party can surely wait.”

“Laurence, go on ahead. I shall join you below.”

He inclines his head slightly and addresses Lucien with a formal nod. “Mr. Ravenswood.”

A brief bow, and he departs. I remain alone with my brother, his eyes remain fixed upon mine as I invite him in with a gesture of my hand.

“Speak, Lucien. Tell me everything.”

He does not sit.

“Last night,” he begins to say, and his voice betrays a depth of agitation that rarely belongs to him, “while I was supervising the restoration works at Thornfield Villa... we found some old administrative papers in the drawers of the previous management.”

I approach the writing desk. “And then?”

“Among those documents,” he tracts a battered file and places it before me, “there were accounts and notes... signed by our father.”

“In what way should that be unusual? Our father was accustomed to supervising Thornfield Villa in person.”

I seize the ivory casket where Laurence keeps the cigarettes at my disposal and extract one with care.

“Unless... you have perhaps unearthed a trace of yet another of our father’s mistresses?” I say as I strike a match from the box, tilting the flame toward the tip of the cigarette.