“So you say, but I’ll wait and see what happens. You typically prove to be ineffectual, and I expect this will be no different. The smarter gentlemen in the Lords will soon realize you don’t take after Father, that you barely understand the duties of a marquess, let alone a member of the upper house of Parliament.”

Clifford squared his shoulders. “Get out.”

“Gladly. It’s rather irritating to see what you’ve done to Father’s Greek Room. I’m glad he isn’t here to see it.” He gestured toward the wall where his father’s favorite painting once hung. “If you aren’t going to use the god and goddess painting, I’ll take it.”

“I think it was burned,” Susan said snidely.

“Or will be,” Clifford added. “I wouldn’t give it—or anything else—to you. Don’t come crying to me when you need funds.”

Gregory had pivoted toward the door, but now he looked back over his shoulder at his brother, triumph surging through him. “You aren’t aware that Father settled a rather large sum on me several years ago. I believe he anticipated this very behavior and wanted to make sure I could make my own way. You see, Clifford, I don’t need you at all.”

Striding from the ghastly room before Clifford or Susan could respond, Gregory encountered Lightner in the entrance hall. “It was very good to see you, my lord,” the butler said as he handed Gregory his hat and gloves.

“It was excellent to see you too, Lightner. Indeed, it was the best part of this visit. I regret I wasn’t able to speak with Witney on your behalf, and I won’t be returning.” He lowered his voice to just above a whisper. “I do hope you’ll contact me if things become untenable here. I will do my best to see you situated in a more pleasant household.”

Lightner’s pale blue eyes widened slightly. “I do appreciate that, my lord. Thank you.” He opened the door, and Clifford left Witney House for what was probably the last time.

He felt a rush of sadness, but it was all to do with his father and the memories Gregory had of growing up here. His only emotion at turning his back on his brother was relief.

Suddenly exhausted, which was unsurprising, Gregory climbed into his coach. He looked forward to getting home and snuggling with Ash. He adored the pup and their nightly routine. He also loved that Ash reminded him of Evie.

Gregory leaned his head back against the squab. In his mind, he saw her frigid stare and felt her despair. He didn’t blame her for not telling him about her past. He understood why she’d wanted to keep it secret, even from him. Still, it hurt. He’d wanted to share everything with her.

He’d wanted to marry her.