He’d sent a missive to his brother, Mason. Who was likely furious about being pulled from his bride’s bed. But he’d come.
Mason loved him. So he’d answer the call no matter how furious he was with his brother.
Bash took a large swallow of the amber liquid in front of him. He hadn’t been doing much drinking of late, but he needed it tonight. Because every time he stopped to think, all he could picture was crawling into bed next to the woman who’d plagued his thoughts for weeks.
“You called?” Mason said from the door, clearly having bypassed the butler.
“Thanks for coming,” he said as he stood.
“You knew I would.” Mason shook his hand and then settled into the chair across from him. “As you were the one who rescued me from that dank excuse of a medical facility and basically bought me a title, I can’t see how I might refuse you a thing.”
“You earned the title with your valor on the battlefield,” Bash said as he took another swallow. “And you’re my brother. How could I not rescue you?”
“I’m your bastard brother. Most men would have allowed me to die there.”
Bash chuckled a bit at that. “You weren’t dying. You’d already begun recovering. You’re pigheaded that way. I didn’t do much. Just carried you back to London.”
Mason shook his head as he looked up at the ceiling. “We’ll agree to disagree. What brings me here tonight?”
“Isabella.” The single word fell from his lips as he scrubbed his hands through his hair.
“Ah.” Mason smiled. “The pretty card dealer. Of course.” He shifted. “Have you deflowered her?”
Bash’s hands thumped onto the desk, irritation rippling down his back. “I did not.”
Mason’s eyebrows went up. “I meant no disrespect. I myself may have taken liberties with Clarissa…” He cleared his throat. “I know you care about her.”
He waved his hand. “She’s here.”
Mason blinked twice. “You’re going to have to catch me up, I’m afraid. I can’t seem to follow the conversation.”
With another swallow, Bash told Mason the events of the night, starting with the man at the club and ending with the uncle’s threats. “The man is completely warped. He thinks he’s owed the business and he’s willing to toss his nieces onto the street because he’s not getting it. It’s his job to care for them but he’s left them to rot on their own.”
“Indecent.” Mason scowled. “Men like that should be…” But he didn’t finish as he rubbed his jaw. “What are you going to do?”
Bash spread his hands out on the desk. “Eliza, Isabella’s sister, thinks that I should marry my little card dealer.”
“I agree,” Mason said without hesitation. “I’ve met her, if you recall. She’s perfect for you. Smart, sweet, sensitive, and extremely pretty. She’d make an excellent wife.”
“Just like that?” Bash sat back in his chair, staring at his brother.
“You have to marry eventually. You’ll need an heir.” Mason shrugged. “Have you met anyone better?”
“No. But I haven’t met anyone worse either.” He shifted, staring down at the swirling liquid in his glass.
“What does that mean?”
“It means that she brings out this fire in me that reminds me…” He shifted the glass, watching the light shimmer off the cut glass. “I’m more like him.”
Mason sucked in his breath. “Horseshit.”
He looked up at his brother then. “It’s not.”
“It is.” Mason pushed up from his chair. “He would have never saved me and our father, the Demon Duke, would never in a million years have tried to save her. You’re less like him than any man I know, and don’t you forget it.”
“You didn’t know me before. Before I gave up the anger and you don’t know what I’ll be like if it comes back. She strips me of my control.”
“Your anger would be to protect her,” Mason fired back. “You’re a man, Bash. You’re supposed to protect your woman. It’s your job to funnel the hostility and aggression into keeping her safe. And when you have children…you’ll use it to keep them safe too. It’s our sole purpose in this world. Even our work is meant to provide for them.”