“That’s enough. I am the elder,” he intoned in his most serious duke voice, “and I shall have none of this mockery from you young things.”
Truthfully, they all loved this game. It kept them close when so many brothers drifted apart in the ton.
“You’re not that old,” Ben teased relentlessly. “You still have all your hair.”
“Indeed I do,” he drawled. “But you two are trying to drive me into an early dotage. No doubt she will aid you.”
Ben wiped a nonexistent tear from his brown eyes. “She did get the best of you. It was a beautiful thing to watch. And now Kit is getting the best of you, too. Dear God, brother. Are you about to dodder into your dotage?”
“I certainly shall before a lady gets the best of me.”
Except she did keep getting the best of him, and he rather enjoyed it.
And with that realization, he pulled himself to his feet, and he and Kit began again. This time, they circled each other wordlessly. Sweat flew from their brows as they each came in for blow after blow, each giving as good as they got. It was wonderful. It was exactly what he’d hoped for, and he loved every bit of it.
“Are you going to marry her?” Kit asked abruptly in the lowest of blows.
Marry…
He stared at his brother for an instant too long, and of course, Kit drove his fist into his stomach. Air whooshed out of him yet again, and he jolted back.
“That was against every code known to man,” he said drily. “I ought to murder you.”
“That’s not allowed in boxing!” Ben pointed out merrily from his bench.
And he swung his brother a dagger glare. “Come on up here now. It’s your turn.”
Kit laughed as he staggered to the ropes. “Oh, thank the heavens. A break from your moody besotted self is most welcome.”
Will couldn’t stop himself. He blushed.
“I am not besotted, nor am I in a mood.”
Kit just chortled as he jumped down out of the ring. “Of course not, elder. You’re the pinnacle of Stoicism at present.”
He sensed the sarcasm, but the truth was, he had always tried to protect his brothers from his melancholia. “Even the Stoics had moods,” he pointed out.
“And you always overcome them,” Ben said merrily. “Come. All will be well. You always rise above any difficulty. And your mood shall pass as quickly as the sun on an English summer day.”
Ben said that line with such an air of earnestness that Will hesitated. He tried to read his brother and immediately understood what his brother was doing. He blew out a breath. “Ben, you can keep giving me hell; you needn’t make me feel better.”
“Of course I do. That’s my job.”
“What do you mean?”
As the words slipped past his lips, he realized something.
“Oh God…” He groaned, closing his eyes, then opened them again and swung his gaze from brother to brother.
“What?” Kit asked.
He wiped a hand over his face. “You’re doing what she said everyone does.”
Ben sat up. “What?”
“You’re bowing and scraping.” He locked his gaze with Ben, then Kit. “You’re my brothers. You’re not supposed to do that.”
Kit and Ben exchanged a quick glance before they both shifted uncomfortably.