As much a jabberer as the new neighbor who’d cornered Val yesterday, this one always proved just as hard to shake. As such, he’d not correct his brother and inform him that he’d a butler with him still, or that he’d given the older man the mornings and afternoons off.

Opening the door had been a mistake.

Val made to close that heavy panel.

Alas—

“Whoa there, big brother.” Sidney, his only sibling and the future heir to his dukedom, managed to duck under Val’s arm and let himself inside.

“Aren’t you traveling?” Val muttered and, giving up on all hope of Sidney taking himself off, made for his offices. Sidney always left London long before now.

Nearly of a like height, his brother, younger by two years, fell into step beside him. “In other words, why am I here?” His brother made a tsking sound with his tongue, preventing Val from answering. Not that Val had any intention of doing so. “Happily for you, I’m not due to leave for another five days, and you know I always pay a visit at the Christmastide Season.”

Yes, he did know it. With his brother later than usual, Val had simply thought—hoped?—his brother had gone on his way, and that Val would be spared the jovial visit with talk of family and togetherness at the holidays.

“But what kind of brother would I be if I didn’t pay my usual visit and attempt to convince you to come along for the fun?” His brother flung an arm around Val’s shoulders, pulling a grunt from him.

Sidney laughed.

Because Sidney always laughed. Their family had told tales through the years of the marquess having been born with a smile and a giggle.

And Val? Well, Val had once been of a like temperament. Always ready with a smile, even more ready with a laugh.

And why shouldn’t he have been? He’d been born to a happy family—granted, with a devoted father who’d died too soon.

And then, he, luckiest in life in so many ways, had found love and a like joy with his wife.

Just like that, the dark was ushered in.

With a growl, he shrugged off his brother’s touch.

To his brother’s credit—or mayhap it was more accurately a testament of his stubbornness—Sidney gave no outward indication that he’d noted that rejection of his brotherly affection. “I know what you are thinking,” his only sibling in the world began.

“I rather doubt that,” Val muttered. For if Sidney were aware of what he was thinking, he’d not have bothered with coming.

“That I should give up on the hope of you joining me,” his brother went on, impressive in his ability to ignore Val’s coldness. “Alas, big brother, I know one of these days that you will come, and my efforts will not have been in vain.”