“I’m not getting married,” Titus said. “Not now, I mean. I have barely had time to accustom myself to my good fortune as it is; I am not going to rush into further changes.”
“Nonsense. It should be at the forefront of your mind: You must be nearly thirty. Of course you could not consider matrimony in your previous condition, and we may now count that a blessing.”
“I’m thirty-one, and I don’t know if I would call it ablessing that I couldn’t afford to support a wife before,” Titus said. “And I’m not looking to marry at any time soon, so please don’t put yourself or Mrs. Pilcrow out.”
“Nonsense,” Augustus said. “You have a duty to advance the family. I trust you realise your good fortune has come at the cost of exposing our name to ridicule and contempt? My neighbours read about your peculiar match in thenewspaper.” He enunciated the word with distaste. “I expect you to redress that. Your marriage will link our name to a worthy family and offer suitable opportunities for future matches.”
“Future?” Titus repeated. “How many do you expect me to make?”
Augustus made an irritated noise. “I beg you to remember you have two nieces. Your choice of wife could make all the difference to them.”
“Two? There is Augusta, who must be five, but—”
“Julia was born last year.”
“Congratulations,” Titus said blankly. “I didn’t know.”
There was the sort of awkward pause one might expect. Augustus cleared his throat. “Yes, well, you have two nieces. I trust you will bear their needs in mind.”
“They are a baby and a five-year-old. I don’t suppose anyone will remember or care about my marriage to Miss Whitecross by the time they are old enough to consider matrimony. I’m very sorry about any ridicule attaching to our name, I am aware how it looks to marry a dying old woman for her fortune, and if I had been in a more secure financial position, I would not have done it. But I was going to lose my shop.”
“Then you should have conducted your affairs more responsibly,” Augustus informed him. “Really, you must consider matters better. You are slapdash in the extreme; it will not do.”
“I don’t think we should discuss this any more now,”Titus said, in a voice that shook slightly. “Perhaps you will think about what you would like to do in London during your visit. We might walk down to Bond Street or Rotten Row and see the people, or if you would like to visit any of the sights…”
He went on, doggedly enumerating London’s attractions. Augustus made critical observations. Nico used a silver fruit-knife to cut up a pear, rather than stabbing Augustus in the leg with it. It took an effort.
Titus spent the afternoon out with his brother. When he returned, in good time to dress for dinner, Nico made sure he was waiting in the bedroom.
“You look tired, mon ami.”
“I am exhausted,” Titus said, sitting heavily on the bed. “Ugh. Could you— No, Perreau will be here any moment, but—”
“Perreau will not. I am your valet this evening. And…” Nico walked over, straddled his lap, and wrapped his arms around Titus’s tense shoulders. He held him there until Titus exhaled long and hard, and Nico felt him relax, bodies melding together as though they’d been lovers for years, not weeks.
“Ugh. Nico. What a day.”
“Did things improve?”
“No. He keeps talking about all the things I am obliged to do for his family. A suitable marriage is barely the start of it: I must provide a town house which Mrs. Pilcrow can use, and start considering my nephews’ careers, and so on. He seems to see me as an open purse into which he can reach his hand at will. It is so lowering.”
“Does your fool brother understand he cannot take what you do not care to give?”
“He assumes I will be happy to give it,” Titus said. “No, that isn’t true; he hasn’t thought about my feelings at all. He simply assumes Iwillgive it, because refusing would be an affront to the order of things.”
Nico tightened his arms. “Mon coeur, I know you would prefer good relations with your brother, but if that means agreeing that he is the absolute master—”
“No. I don’t want to do that either. But he is used to being this way; he only knows to treat the rest of us as lesser. And if he were to change that with me, to treat me as an equal, then he would have to think about Hadrian’s death, and Ves not speaking to him, and I quite understand why he doesn’t want to face that.”
“So do I, but it does not stand in his favour.”
Titus’s shoulders slumped. “No. Still, I would like to change things between us, if I can. I have found Vespasian again, and I think I am changing myself, so is it not possible that Augustus could do things differently too?”
“Bien sûr, if he wanted to,” Nico said. “For that, I think you must tell him what you require of him, and see if he cares to give it.”
“I want him to stop assuming he is master in my house, or of my actions, or of my money. If he could be more respectful, or even just less demanding, perhaps we could talk.”
Nico found that exceedingly unlikely. “You can only try.”