Il Duca disdicevole

Chapter One

As night fell, the cold moon hung high in the sky. The bright moonlight fell on the ancient castle on the edge of the city, casting a mysterious silver veil around it. Emily stood on the balcony, looking at the forest in the distance, and felt a chill rising from the bottom of her heart. Since moving to this castle, her life has become bizarre and mysterious.
The cold wind in October swept across her bare shoulders, bringing a shudder. Emily subconsciously wrapped her woolen shawl tightly around her, but she couldn't feel any warmth. This castle seems to be always cold, just like its mysterious owner Lucas Black, exuding an inaccessible atmosphere.
"Miss Emily," suddenly, a low voice sounded behind her, "You'll catch a cold if you're still outside so late."
She turned around and saw Lucas standing at the balcony door. The moonlight outlined his tall figure. He was wearing a dark silk shirt, and the collar vaguely revealed his strong chest. The amber eyes flickered strangely in the darkness, as if they could see through her soul.
"Mr. Black," Emily whispered, trying to hide the trembling in her voice, "I'm just admiring the moonlight."
Lucas took a step forward, but suddenly stopped. Emily noticed that his body stiffened instantly, and his nostrils fluttered slightly, as if he was sniffing something. His expression became solemn, and a glimmer of wildness flashed in his eyes, but was quickly suppressed.
"Please go in," his voice was hoarser than usual, "It's not safe here."
Just then, a cold night breeze swept across the balcony, bringing a faint smell of rust. Emily saw that Lucas's fingers were almost pinched into the stone railing, and his knuckles were white. She couldn't help but take a step back, her heartbeat accelerated.
"I thought this castle was the safest place," she whispered, "after all, you are here."
Lucas let out an almost inaudible growl, "Some danger, Miss Emily, is much closer than you think." His eyes looked unusually sharp in the moonlight, "especially on a full moon night."
Suddenly, a wolf howl came from the distant forest, shrill and long. Emily was surprised to find that Lucas' pupils shrank in an instant and turned into vertical pupils like a beast, but the fleeting change made her wonder if it was just an illusion caused by the moonlight.
Just then, a cold breath passed by her from behind, accompanied by a chuckle. Emily turned around and saw only a dark shadow flashing in the corner of the balcony. When she looked back again, Lucas had come to her side, with a hand gently on her shoulder.
"I'll take you back to your room," he said, with an unquestionable commanding tone in his voice. Emily noticed that his palms were surprisingly hot, in sharp contrast to the chill of the castle.
Walking in the dark corridor of the castle, Emily could feel Lucas' presence, he walked behind her like a silent guardian. Moonlight poured in through the Gothic stained glass windows, casting mottled shadows on the floor.
"Good night, Miss Emily," Lucas whispered in front of her door, "Remember, no matter what sound you hear, don't leave the room tonight."
"Why?" Emily asked subconsciously.
Lucas was silent for a moment, his eyes looked deep and dangerous in the moonlight, "Because the moonlight tonight is too beautiful, it will always wake up something that shouldn't wake up."
When the door closed behind her, Emily leaned against the door, her heartbeat still alarmingly fast. She could hear Lucas's footsteps gradually fading away, but she seemed to hear the sound of wings flapping outside the window. She walked to the window and looked out through the glass.
In the moonlit courtyard, she saw a figure standing by the fountain. The man looked up at her window, and the moonlight illuminated his pale marble face - it was Draco, with a mysterious smile on his lips and a dangerous light in his eyes. When Emily blinked, his figure had disappeared, as if he had never appeared. Emily lay trembling on the bed, listening to the wolf howling outside the window. She knew that she had fallen into a world full of dangers, and this was just the beginning. On this moonlit night, her fate was closely linked to two mysterious and dangerous beings, and there was no turning back.

Chapter Two

In the dead of night, Emily lay in bed, the faces of Lucas and Draco appeared in her mind. She could not resist the deep attraction, but she also knew that she was caught in a dangerous vortex. She knew that the confrontation between the two men was a life-and-death hostility, and she was just a pawn in their war. A corner of her heart reminded her to escape, but the deeper desire pulled her to stay in this mysterious castle, looking forward to the unknown encounter.

        Just as she was about to fall asleep, a slight knock on the window interrupted the silence. Emily opened her eyes, and the moonlight poured into the room through the curtains, making the corners of the room particularly dark. She sat up subconsciously, trembling slightly and walked to the window. When she opened the curtains, a figure was standing in front of her, cold and elegant.

        It was Draco.

        "Sorry, I scared you, Emily." His low voice was frivolous and indifferent, as if every word revealed his unfathomable darkness. His eyes were like two flames in the abyss, locking onto her with an irresistible force.

        "How... are you here?" Emily's heartbeat quickened, and her hands unconsciously clenched a corner of the curtain. She knew she should be scared at this moment, but Draco's unique charm made it hard for her to resist.

        Draco did not answer her question, but slowly approached, lowered his head and whispered in her ear: "You know why I'm here, Emily. You've never really been afraid of me, right?"

        The moment he approached, she smelled the cold breath on him, as if it came from the night a thousand years ago. Her breathing gradually became rapid, but she did not retreat, but was locked by his eyes, as if her soul was also attracted to him.

        "Draco... we can't do this." Her voice was weak, but she did not retreat at all, as if even she herself was struggling with contradictions.

        "You don't belong here at all, Emily. Staying here will only put you in deeper danger." Draco gently lifted her chin, with a smile on the corner of his cold mouth, that smile was both gentle and dangerous, "But if you want to know the real darkness, then come. I will take you to see everything."

        At this moment, the door was pushed open, and Lucas' figure appeared at the door like a shadow. His face was gloomy, and his eyes were burning with anger. It was his possessiveness and anger that he could not hide. He walked towards Draco step by step, his hands clenched, his muscles tensed, as if he was going to pounce on and tear the enemy in front of him in the next second.

        "Draco, let her go." Lucas' voice was low and threatening, like an enraged beast. It was the first time Emily saw him so out of control, his eyes were like a ball of unextinguishable fire, revealing uncontrollable anger and possessiveness.

        Draco smiled slightly, released Emily's chin, and looked at Lucas provocatively. "Don't you understand yet? She doesn't belong to you. The savagery of the wolf tribe is nothing but a bondage to her, and I can give her true freedom."

        "The 'freedom' you mentioned will only make her fall into darkness. You don't understand what true protection is." Lucas sneered, his eyes as sharp as an eagle. He slowly stepped forward, blocked Emily, and protected her behind him. That was his attitude as the wolf king, firm and unshakable.

        Emily was sandwiched between the two, feeling her heartbeat speed up, as if breathing became difficult. These two completely different forces intertwined and collided in front of her, making it impossible for her to decide which side to choose.

        Draco raised the corners of his mouth and slowly took a step back, his eyes still on Emily. "Emily, one day you will find that he can't satisfy the desire in your heart. And I am your true home."

        As soon as the voice fell, Draco's figure disappeared into the night, as if he had never appeared.

        Lucas looked at the empty room, his fists gradually loosened, but the anger and worry in his eyes remained. He turned around and looked at Emily softly, but his eyes still flashed with contradictions and forbearance.

        "Are you okay?" He asked in a low voice, with a trace of undisguised concern in his voice.

        Emily nodded, but her heart was in turmoil and it was difficult to calm down. She knew that she had fallen too deep. She could not let go of these two men easily, nor could she easily resist them. A complex emotion surged in her heart, which was a dangerous and fatal attraction.

        "Lucas, I..." She wanted to say something, but lost her words when she met his eyes.

        "Don't get close to him." Lucas' voice was low, with a hint of pleading and warning, "I know you feel confused, but Draco is not what you think. He will only drag you into the darkness, and I won't let him hurt you."

        Emily just looked at him silently, and a touch of uncertainty gradually rose in her heart. She knew that this was not just a war, but a contest of feelings and desires. In this dangerous triangle relationship, she has gone too far and can never turn back.

Chapter Three

Emily stayed awake all night. The wind outside the window blew through the woods, making a low moan, as if the whole castle was whispering in her ear. She curled up in bed, recalling Draco's cold smile and Lucas's deep eyes. Two completely different attractions stirred in her heart, making her lost on the edge of danger and desire.

        When the sky was slightly bright, she made a decision. She had to figure out what she wanted, the wildness and protection of the wolf tribe, or the mystery and temptation of the vampire. She got up and walked out of the room, walked through the deserted corridor, and came to the door of Lucas's study.

        The door of the study was slightly open, and a whisper came from inside. Emily stood outside the door and pricked up her ears to listen.

        "She is innocent, Lucas." A low and gentle female voice came from Lucas's sister, Leila. Emily had heard rumors about her. Leila was the wisest prophet in the wolf tribe and could always see fragments of the future.

        "I know, Leila." Lucas' voice was hoarse, as if he had struggled all night, "but I can't control myself, I can't suppress my desire for her. I'm afraid that if she stays with me, she will only be swallowed by my darkness."

        Emily's heart trembled, and she raised her hand to push open the door.

        "Lucas." Her voice was abrupt and firm in the silent room.

        The two turned around and saw her standing at the door with a hint of determination in her eyes. She walked slowly towards Lucas, looked up at him, with a hint of determination and inquiry in her eyes.

        "I know you protect me, but I'm not a fragile child." Her voice was calm and firm, "I need to know the truth. Why are you always so hesitant? And why is Draco so persistent in approaching me?"

        Lucas' expression froze for a moment, his eyes wandering on her face, as if he was weighing whether to tell her everything. Finally, he took a deep breath, as if he had made up his mind.

        "Emily, the fate of our werewolves is usually determined at birth. The wolf tribe has a unique ability to perceive its partner. When we find that person, we will feel an attraction that cannot be ignored... and you are my destined partner." Lucas spoke in a low voice, with pain and desire flashing in his eyes.

        Emily's heartbeat accelerated, and thousands of emotions surged in her mind, both shocked and confused. She never thought that she would become his destined partner, and his possessiveness and protectiveness of her turned out to come from this ancient bond.

        She asked softly: "What about Draco? Why is he so obsessed with me?"

        Lucas's eyes became more gloomy, and there was a hint of anger in his eyes. "Draco's tribe never believed in fate. They prefer to dominate their own future. And he believes that as long as he possesses you, he can destroy me and the traditional beliefs of the wolf tribe. So, he is not sincere to you, but to weaken my power."

        Emily's heart suddenly tightened, and a hint of anger and loss surged in her eyes. However, she also felt a little unwilling, as if she was just a tool in this struggle, being fought over and torn by the two, and she had no right to control herself.

        "So, Lucas, are you sincere? Is it just fate for me?" There was a hint of disappointment in her voice, and her eyes became cold.

        Lucas was stunned, as if he was hurt by her question. He was silent for a moment before speaking: "Emily, I can't deny the existence of fate, but I can't ignore my feelings for you." He gently held her hand, his eyes full of affection and desire, "Whether it is fate or something else, I am willing to give up everything for you."

        Just then, a slight sound came from outside the window. Emily turned back suddenly and saw a pair of dark red eyes flashing outside the window, like a flame in the dark, and the familiar cold breath startled her heart.

        It was Draco.

        He stood outside the window, sneering at them, as if everything was under his control. He knocked on the window lightly, his voice cold and full of provocation: "I don't think it's possible to talk about 'betraying' everything here, Lucas. You can't protect her because she will eventually come to me."

        Lucas' eyes immediately became cold and dangerous. He stood in front of Emily, glared at Draco outside the window, and growled in a low voice: "Stay away from her, Draco. You can't force her to choose darkness."

        Draco smiled slightly, his eyes full of evil confidence. He raised his eyebrows at Emily, as if everything was under his control. "Dear Emily, you will find that the bright world cannot satisfy your desire. And darkness - is your destination." After he finished speaking, his figure instantly disappeared into the night.

        The room returned to silence, but the air was filled with tension and uneasiness. Emily looked at the empty darkness outside the window, feeling both fear and desire in her heart. She could no longer deny Draco's attraction to her, and the danger and mystery made her heart beat faster.

        Lucas noticed her hesitation, and a trace of pain and uneasiness flashed in his eyes. He gently held her hand and whispered, "Emily, don't get close to him. His darkness will devour you and make you lost in the endless night."

        She didn't respond, but just looked at him silently, her heart full of complicated emotions. She knew that she could no longer simply withdraw from the two of them. Her fate had been drawn into an uncontrollable vortex, and the only thing she could do was to follow her heart and touch the unknown darkness.

Chapter Four

As autumn deepened, the forest surrounding the castle donned a cloak of gold and crimson. Yet Emily felt none of the season's warmth. Since that night's revelation, her mind had been in constant turmoil, with Lucas's truth and Draco's temptation intertwining like two serpents in her thoughts, leaving her breathless.

        That evening, Emily found herself alone in the castle's library, searching through ancient tomes for any mention of werewolves and vampires. As she focused on a yellowed manuscript, the air suddenly turned cold. Looking up, she found Draco standing across from her, his appearance as silent as shadow.

        "Seeking truth, my dear Emily?" Draco leaned elegantly against the bookshelf, wearing a deep purple silk shirt that made his skin appear even paler. "But you know, written accounts are often one-sided."

        Emily instinctively stepped back. "Why do you always appear like this? It's unsettling."

        Draco chuckled softly, moving toward her with fluid grace. "Because I enjoy seeing you startled. It makes you even more enticing." His fingers traced her cheek, the cold touch making her shiver. "Lucas told you I'm merely using you, but did he mention that his fate is actually a chain binding him?"

        Emily froze. "What do you mean?"

        "The werewolves' so-called destined mates are nothing but constraints in their bloodline," Draco's voice carried a hypnotic power. "They're forced to love someone, forced to protect them. Isn't that tragic? While I..." his gaze deepened, "I choose you because I'm truly drawn to you."

        A low growl suddenly echoed from the doorway. Lucas stood there, his eyes now golden, filled with rage. "Step away from her, Draco!" His voice carried an unmistakable threat.

        Instead of retreating, Draco pulled Emily closer. "Why so angry, Lucas? Is it because I spoke the truth, or because you fear she might choose me?"

        The tension in the air grew thick enough to cut. Emily could feel the energy between the two men threatening to tear the room apart. Lucas's body trembled as he fought to control the beast within.

        "Enough!" Emily suddenly shouted, "What am I to both of you? Some trophy to be won?" Her voice carried both anger and hurt.

        Both men froze. Pain flashed across Lucas's eyes, while Draco's expression turned contemplative.

        Emily pushed away from Draco and walked toward the door, but paused beside Lucas. "You say I'm your destiny, but have you considered my feelings?" Her voice was soft but accusatory. "And you, Draco, if you truly cared for me, you wouldn't use me as a weapon against him."

        She hurried from the library, and only when she reached the corridor did her tears finally fall. She didn't know whom to trust - Lucas, chosen by fate, or Draco, who chose her himself? More importantly, she began to question whether she truly understood her own heart.

        As night fell, Emily stood on her balcony. Wolves howled in the distant forest, while somewhere in the castle, she thought she heard the flutter of bat wings. Everything reminded her that she stood at the crossroads between two worlds, and she had to make a choice.

        Then she noticed items on the balcony railing: a rose as black as night with a blood-red sheen - Draco's mark. Beside it lay a wolf fang necklace, a werewolf protection charm, obviously left by Lucas.

        Emily gently touched both items, her internal conflict growing stronger. She knew that choosing either would alter her destiny forever. But more importantly, she needed to understand what her heart truly desired.

        As moonlight bathed the castle grounds, Emily realized that her decision wouldn't just be about choosing between two men - it was about choosing what kind of life she wanted, and more importantly, who she wanted to become.

Chapter Five

The following days in the castle were filled with an unbearable tension. Emily found herself constantly caught between shadows and silence, between warmth and cold. Every corner seemed to hold either Lucas's protective presence or Draco's seductive whispers. The weight of their attention was becoming increasingly suffocating.

        One particularly cold morning, Emily discovered a mysterious leather-bound book in the library's restricted section. Its pages contained ancient prophecies about the eternal conflict between werewolves and vampires. As she read, her hands trembling, she found something that made her blood run cold.

        'When the moon bleeds red and the night grows teeth, a choice will be made that breaks the ancient cycle. A mortal's heart shall tip the balance, bringing either eternal darkness or salvation to both races.'

        "Interesting reading material," Leila's voice suddenly came from behind. Lucas's sister moved like a ghost, her silver eyes holding centuries of wisdom. "I've been waiting for you to find this."

        Emily closed the book carefully. "Is this... about me?"

        Leila's expression remained enigmatic. "The prophecy speaks of a mortal who stands between our worlds. But prophecies, dear Emily, are like rivers - they show the destination, but the path taken is always your choice."

        "What happens if I choose wrong?" Emily's voice wavered.

        "There is no wrong choice, only consequences," Leila replied, her voice gentle but firm. "But I must warn you - the blood moon approaches, and with it, a moment of truth that will change everything."

        Before Emily could ask more questions, a commotion erupted from the castle grounds. They rushed to the window to see Lucas and Draco facing each other in the courtyard, their postures tense with barely contained violence.

        "You've crossed the line, Draco," Lucas's voice carried up to them, filled with fury. "You dare to mark our territory?"

        Draco's laugh was cold and mocking. "Territory? This stopped being about territory the moment she arrived. Or are you afraid she's already choosing me?"

        Emily watched in horror as Lucas's form began to shift, his muscles rippling beneath his clothes. The morning sun caught his golden eyes, now burning with primal rage. Draco's own transformation was more subtle - his pale skin taking on an otherworldly sheen, his movements becoming impossibly fluid.

        "Stop!" Emily's voice rang out across the courtyard. Both men froze, their attention snapping to her window. "This has to end!"

        She turned to rush downstairs, but Leila caught her arm. "Be careful, Emily. The blood moon is three days away. Under its light, both races lose control of their darker natures. And you..." she paused meaningfully, "you will be at your most vulnerable."

        When Emily reached the courtyard, the tension was thick enough to choke on. Lucas immediately moved to her side, his protective instinct evident in every motion. But it was Draco who spoke first.

        "My apologies for the disturbance, dear Emily," his voice was silk over steel. "But perhaps it's time you understood the full scope of what you're involved in." He pulled an ancient medallion from his coat. "This belongs to your grandmother. She wasn't just any woman - she was a guardian, keeper of the balance between our races."

        Emily's world tilted. "My grandmother? But she died when I was young..."

        "She was murdered," Lucas cut in, his voice heavy with old pain. "By those who wanted to destroy the peace between our kinds. And now, as her descendant, you inherit her role - and her enemies."

        The revelation hit Emily like a physical blow. Suddenly, everything made more sense - the mysterious circumstances that led her to the castle, both men's intense interest in her, the prophecy. She wasn't just caught between two supernatural beings; she was part of an ancient legacy.

        "The blood moon comes," Draco said softly, his eyes locked on Emily. "And with it, powers long dormant will awaken. You'll need to choose not just between us, Emily, but between two paths for both our races."

        As if in response to his words, clouds gathered overhead, casting strange shadows across the courtyard. Emily felt something stir within her, something old and powerful, like a sleeping giant finally beginning to wake.

        Lucas moved closer, his warmth a stark contrast to the chill air. "Whatever you choose, Emily, know that my protection isn't just about fate or duty anymore. It's about-"

        But before he could finish, a piercing scream cut through the air. All three turned to see Leila collapsed at the castle entrance, her silver eyes wide with terror as she pointed at the sky.

        "It's coming," she gasped. "The blood moon... it's coming early. And with it, they're returning - the ones who killed your grandmother. They're coming for Emily."

        In that moment, as Emily looked between Lucas and Draco, she realized that her choice might not be about love at all - it might be about survival.

Capitolo primo 
Blackstone Manor, Dorset-Luglio 1802 
Jonathan Sutton guardava fuori dal finestrino mentre la carrozza attraversava Dorchester. Dopo aver percorso tutta la città, ci sarebbero state ancora poche miglia prima che lui potesse finalmente tornare a casa dopo l'ultimo misero trimestre di scuola. Si spostò scompostamente sul sedile, con le natiche ancora doloranti per la fustigazione inflittagli dal signor Rochester, anche se era passata più di una settimana dall'incidente. Il preside aveva un bel peso per un uomo di sessant'anni. Di certo aveva fatto abbastanza pratica, soprattutto quando si trattava di Jon. Si era guadagnato la sua buona dose di punizioni e poi ne aveva subite altre al posto di Arch. Poiché erano gemelli identici, era stato facile per Jon intervenire e accettare le sanzioni disciplinari destinate al fratello. 
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Alla maggior parte delle persone non piaceva Jon. Avrebbero potuto farlo se non avessero avuto il fratello con cui confrontarlo. Da solo, Jon era un abile cavaliere e pugile e uno dei ragazzi più intelligenti della sua classe. Accanto ad Arch, però, sembrava imbronciato e lunatico. In realtà, era piuttosto timido e lo copriva comportandosi come se non gli importasse dell'opinione degli altri. In realtà gli piaceva seguire le regole che Arch infrangeva di continuo. Poiché Jon si era preso la colpa del suo gemello e ne aveva subito le conseguenze, tutti si aspettavano il peggio da lui. 
L'ultimo trimestre di scuola pubblica prima di partire per l'università era stato il peggiore. Pur eccellendo nelle lezioni e avendo pochissimo bisogno di studiare, si era cacciato in continui guai, questa volta di sua iniziativa visto che Arch non c'era. Il suo gemello era stato mandato a casa all'inizio del trimestre per una misteriosa malattia. Ad Arch era scoppiata un'eruzione cutanea sui palmi delle mani e sulle piante dei piedi. Si era estesa al tronco e all'inguine. Aveva anche una leggera febbre. Il preside aveva dichiarato che, per la sicurezza degli altri ragazzi, Arch doveva tornare a casa. Gli erano stati inviati alcuni compiti, ma Jon non sapeva se il fratello si sarebbe preoccupato di completarli. Arch portava a termine i compiti solo perché gli piaceva la competizione tra loro due. Senza Jon a spronarlo, era certo che Arch avesse ignorato il lavoro. Se l'avesse fatto, avrebbe dovuto tornare ad Harrow per un altro trimestre per finire il lavoro. 
Era stato già abbastanza difficile separarsi da Arch negli ultimi due mesi. Non si erano mai separati, avevano sempre condiviso la stanza sia a casa che a scuola, dormendo l'uno accanto all'altro. Jon non riusciva a immaginare se stesso all'università e Arch ancora ad Harrow. Quel posto era un inferno. Nonostante le tariffe esorbitanti, gli alloggi erano stati atroci, con le stanze da letto fredde e umide. I pasti erano stati insipidi e miseri, causando il più delle volte crampi alla pancia. Si pensava comunemente che se gli scolari fossero riusciti a sopravvivere a condizioni così abissali e ad aderire alla rigida obbedienza imposta da coloro che avevano il potere, sarebbero diventati i leader che la società desiderava che fossero. 
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Se suo padre avesse saputo di quest'ultimo incidente, però, sarebbe stato peggio di una fustigazione. Il duca aveva poca considerazione per il suo secondogenito, che aveva mancato di essere l'erede designato per sette minuti. Per tutta la vita, suo padre aveva elogiato Arch e condannato ogni azione di Jon. Il suo evidente favore avrebbe dovuto mettere Jon contro il fratello. Invece, amava Arch ancora di più per aver dovuto passare del tempo con un uomo così riprovevole. Tutte le ricchezze, le terre e i titoli dei Blackmore sarebbero toccati ad Arch un giorno, ma Jon sapeva che suo fratello si sarebbe preso cura di lui. È questo che facevano. Prendersi cura l'uno dell'altro. 
La carrozza girò e risalì il viale verso Blackstone Manor, impiegando altri quindici minuti prima di arrivare alla casa principale. Si fermò e la porta si aprì. Sulla soglia c'era Elizabeth, la sua sorellina. Il suo viso si illuminò di un sorriso quando lo vide e cominciò a saltellare su e giù per l'eccitazione. 
"Jon! Jon! Sei a casa!". Corse verso di lui, ridendo. 
LMugi& lscfeTsNeA dalla cVarroz_zaQ es 'la ppGrVeUse Sian( Lbraaccio, danydolOe uRn sPonporo LsDchidaCffo suNllaN gyuaBncia.B W
"Mi sei mancata, monella", dichiarò. 
"Non sono una monella", replicò lei. "Sono Lady Elizabeth Sutton". 
"Beh, sono felice che Lady Elizabeth abbia sentito la mia mancanza, perché di certo io ho sentito la sua mancanza". 
",MAi WpQorDttereYsVtbi* ac cKavalcaIre?"v,F !chhIiese Mlzei Ympentt*reK lnuIi Qsi dirigmevag nv$ersco iléaj casa.s A"SftAoV imhpFarando,K miaK so xche sareuste la éperKsAonOaH PghiuMsutja pbeur_ inJseNgxnNaXrmiq.Y LoT Zfara'i?"c. 
"Lo farò. Se non oggi, domani. Per ora, voglio andare a trovare Arch". 
La porta si aprì ed egli salutò Roy, il cameriere che era stato promosso a maggiordomo due anni prima. 
"È bello riaverla con noi, Lord Jonathan", disse il servitore. 
"QNhoUn Mso^ édirtUi qua.ntSo ksiUa ,breGllo efsDseér_e itGornYast&oU, ÉRSoyl.L cD_iÉte a$ jCo^omk ^che s!to mor.eyn^dow ddi Ufpa^mae.B TDDi(l'leq bdi! zmfandfarrke lqualócsosVaK BsTu giqnc cMa$mHearFa, noJstra".k KB&aNcFiò wdZiM QnPuovo E,lniózéabbetwh e Tla, Lpossem au tYer,raU. "Sonoé aunpsio!sog Fdi TvedNeQrfeA $Arkché, SUprbitNei". L
Un'ombra attraversò il volto del maggiordomo. Immediatamente Jon chiese: "Cosa c'è, Roy?". 
"Lord Grafton non è più nelle vostre stanze comuni", lo informò Roy. "È stato spostato". 
Perplesso, chiese: "Dov'è?". 
QuagndRor il magghiordVomo (esXitòP, SJofn si i'nginocchiéò ke Rg$ulahrdò la sUorelbla ^miHnJoLrek Anqeg*liO &ovcFchi. d"OElQifzéab*ent)h?O ^Dpov'èp RA$r)cVh?".) D
"Nella casa di proprietà", disse lei, con il labbro inferiore che le tremava. "Non posso vederlo. Non me lo permettono". Le lacrime le rigarono gli occhi. "Il dottore viene sempre. Papà dice che Arch è molto malato". 
Jon si alzò. "Andrò subito da lui". 
"Lord Jonathan, Sua Grazia desidera che...". 
"SQua GrwaSzDiKa pRuUò Ba^sypettaJreM"q,! !sIputmòX lfsuXoYrQi.P U"hVog$lri!o vSeIdReHr^e zmFio Yfrnatelél(ow"N.O 
Uscendo di corsa dalla casa principale, si avviò a passo svelto e raggiunse la casa padronale dieci minuti dopo. Un carro agganciato a un cavallo si trovava fuori dalla casa. Mentre si avvicinava alla porta, il dottor Broll si affacciò all'esterno, con la sua borsa da medico in mano. 
"Lord Jonathan. Vedo che siete tornato a casa da Harrow". 
"Che cos'ha mio fratello?", chiese. "Quando lo hanno mandato a casa da Harrow, aveva un'eruzione cutanea. Di colore rame. Si era diffuso. È peggiorato? Perché dovrebbe essere qui, a vivere in isolamento?". 
"VMenvgaF vcon. mZe"O,O Xsugagenrì NiwlK doéttYor ZBrVo*ldli,l s&istemBandUoQ lah sua hvqaAliigektOtaé neóla carrÉe,llog Fei alblonDtaxna,n_duosói.! B
Jon si mise al passo dell'uomo, con l'apprensione che lo pervadeva. Il suo gemello doveva essere molto più malato di quanto si pensasse. L'eruzione cutanea poteva essere contagiosa, motivo per cui era stato portato via dalla casa. Ma non aveva alcun senso. Il padre adorava Arch. Lo adorava. Se Arch fosse stato veramente malato, suo padre non l'avrebbe mai isolato nella casa dei poveri. Non aveva alcun senso. 
"Cosa c'è che non va in mio fratello?" chiese a bassa voce, con l'apprensione che lo pervadeva. 
"Lord Grafton ha contratto una malattia", esordì il medico. "Una malattia molto grave. Vorrei controllare anche voi, Lord Jonathan". 
"Non (hOob usn'terXuzionjeM cuituaynea &comeA qu'eVllaF chNes YArOchf haa !s$udlKle vmaxniQ eÉ suQi WpieÉdiM",. disshe SrapBidjaVmeVntCew.H p
"E le ulcere?" Chiese il dottor Broll. 
"Ricordo che diversi mesi fa Arch si lamentava di avere delle ulcere all'interno della bocca. Ne aveva anche una all'angolo della bocca, che diceva essere piuttosto dolorosa. Ma sono guarite. Sono tornate? È questo che lo fa stare così male? Io non ne ho". 
"Non è detto che siano necessariamente in bocca. Potrebbero essere sui genitali. O sull'ano". 
"Nof"C, Od.i$spse in TfUréettQa, JcFofpFrYenJd,oz lV'iZmbIarMajz,zo.( "VN,ond hJol msdpOepri_mMenRtGa.tXoa qnulqlJa deAl g(eZneRrea. E..m. AtrNc)h?X"F.' 
Il dottor Broll annuì. "La sua eruzione cutanea, quella che ha avuto a scuola, si è diffusa rapidamente. Le macchie bianche coprono l'interno della bocca. Ha anche altri sintomi". 
"Cosa c'è di sbagliato in lui, dottore? Sicuramente lei può curarlo". 
L'uomo più anziano scosse la testa con tristezza. "Credetemi se vi dico che ci ho provato, mio signore. Ho persino usato il mercurio, per quanto sia pericoloso". 
"Ple,rcÉhé?é",,x chieUsle. "lDóimmij llas gverXità )eP smte!ttyi diZ ev$itkaérye le msieé WdomaónPde".. y
Il medico pose una mano sulla spalla di Jon. "Vostro fratello ha la sifilide, Lord Jonathan. È incurabile. Porterà a gravi problemi man mano che si diffonderà nel suo corpo, stadio dopo stadio. Può causare problemi al cuore. Al cervello. I nervi. Potrebbe paralizzarlo. Portarlo a diventare cieco o sordo. Lo renderà impotente. Potrebbe persino impazzire". 
L'incredulità lo invase. "No!", gridò. "Non ti credo. Arch ha solo sedici anni". Si scrollò di dosso la mano di Broll. "Stai mentendo". 
Il dottore sospirò. "Vorrei esserlo, Lord Jonathan. La sifilide renderà vostro fratello inutile. Sta già soffrendo molto". 
Lkai rbaIb,bFiax _orIa JlTo, riYemp'iva).W "Al.lorZa qpvermché il PPadre tl,oh ÉhWa kmaDndaYtso_ yvia?K Huaf Xbqisovgmno kdiX RsNtaFriel zcoTnm i^ uszuoqi icarpi, nBosn ódi$ yr(inmcanere daR usTolof Rn$evlFlZaz 'c^a'sla Cdi CcamplagnQa"A.H 
L'espressione di Broll si fece dolente. "Sua Grazia è molto infelice. Si ritiene responsabile delle circostanze in cui si trova Lord Grafton". 
"Come? Cosa ha fatto il padre per far ammalare Arch?". 
Il dottor Broll distolse lo sguardo. "Non sono autorizzato a parlarne con voi, mio signore". 
IS Qsuoi zocZcéhCil s*i Érestri!nsNerqo. Gu,a^r_dòM iYlm mediLcNo.A r"XC'omLe )haé Cfatto Omio fr_aSteTllYo$ faZ conMtfrNarjrSeN... ^come gl'ave,teé Zcyh)iaxmHatJa?*".F 
"Sifilide". 
"Sifilide. Da dove viene? Me lo dica", esortò. "Per favore". 
La tristezza riempì gli occhi del dottor Broll. "Deriva da un rapporto sessuale con una donna impura, portatrice della malattia". 
Jhon pbar,cOoZllóòy a^lls'i*ndéiedtproH. IPeLns(òD sWutb&iato adlZlar vJisitZar che AbrdcWh NavueJvaG faWttloI aa unZ boMrdHeWllo,w perp Hgewntile pcuoncess*iéone Rdóe.l psadcreb. JVoZn$ non Ver(at stqato Qi^nvXitaaVtJo.x YSDpeszso_ da*ccca(deva Ncheu QilQ .dAucWa pLorqtFassie il wsjuoX eNreIde aK fWaOreg vaXrvie escuBrsio'n.i pferi preTpéararXloé aXl ésu!o fduétuaro Cru*olob.I aArch avNevHa PlaLsmciaton uc)reRde_rei alm pandYrgel écpheC 'f'olsase' qla s.ua ptraima ivIoVlCta cMonu u$nDa Ddonna),( anohno)stNanfted Xi PgFewmelAlAi fossXe*ro s$eBsAsOualmae$nwt,e! Gaptt.iévsip da_ kq(uBandmo avevéano )quTamtItorsdjivc*i adnni.c 
Ma contrarre un'orribile malattia da una donna solo perché si è fatto sesso con lei? Era impensabile. E ora quest'uomo gli stava dicendo che Arch sarebbe andato lentamente in pezzi sotto i loro occhi. 
"Voglio vederlo", disse con fermezza. "Adesso". 
"Il tuo gemello sta soffrendo molto. Potrebbe non volere una tua visita". 
Fissò Til mmXeddÉiWcrof. "Aircuh TvorWrlà vlePdherRmi("é.u 
Si voltò e si diresse verso la casa padronale. All'interno incrociò una cameriera, che sembrò stupita di vedere qualcuno lì. 
"Dov'è?", abbaiò. 
"Al piano di sopra. Terza porta a sinistra", squittì lei e si allontanò in fretta. 
Jmon (pNrFemseX leO tswcalOes ^dYuTep vaflWla svcocltaÉ teé sciI afóftretgtfò l^un)go il, $cAohrbr,iQdOoMi^oP,é peNrc pkoPi$ .f&eOrmarsOin sdéa!v*antiO alul!aN DporJtab. Era Gcomte ksPe i p.iyeLdqiX )nonÉ glTi mpQeDrÉm&eRttessUepr,o Jdui VcNo!ntHinuaQrec. 
"Questo è Arch", disse sottovoce. "Ha bisogno di te. Vai". 
Facendosi forza, batté leggermente sulla porta. Quando Arch non chiamò, Jon entrò e si diresse verso il letto. 
Il suo gemello era appoggiato con dei cuscini dietro di lui, l'ombra di se stesso. Jon costrinse il suo volto a rimanere una maschera, seppellendo nel profondo lo shock per l'apparizione di Arch. Suo fratello aveva perso molto peso e sembrava dolorosamente magro. Il suo viso era arrossato dalla febbre. Gran parte dei capelli erano caduti. 
"!Jon", rrasIpmò zArcahC.j "*Seki( qNui.").j t
"Certo che sono qui", disse lui, sollevando una sedia e avvicinandola al letto. "Credi che mi preoccuperei di andare a scuola quando potrei stare a casa con te?". 
Si sedette e prese la mano del fratello. Arch si allontanò. 
"Non toccarmi", disse, rivelando uno scorcio di macchie bianche all'interno della bocca. Lui trasalì. 
"Staia suofKfrIeCndo$ molto?T"_.s P
"Ogni minuto di ogni ora di ogni giorno", disse Arch scherzando, prima di smaltire la sbornia. "Piaghe ripugnanti coprono i miei genitali. Ascessi e ulcere decorano il mio corpo, da cui proviene un odore sgradevole. La mia vista sta svanendo rapidamente. Anche se non l'ho detto al dottor Broll, credo che abbia intuito la situazione". 
"Dovresti dirglielo", esortò Jon. "Vedi se può fare qualcosa per te". 
"Oh, ci ha provato, fratello. Ma questa malattia ti tiene in ostaggio. Ti toglie la vita". Si leccò le labbra secche e screpolate. "Broll è stato onesto con me quando nessun altro lo è stato. So che potrei rimanere paralizzato. Che il mio cuore si indebolirà. I mal di testa sono già accecanti. Ha detto che è questione di tempo prima che inizi a perdere il controllo su quel poco di muscoli che mi sono rimasti". Chiuse gli occhi. 
"aMmi ÉdispiaceJ t!aIntsou,, *Arc,h"N. k
Jon rimase seduto sulla sedia, muto per minuti, a guardare il suo gemello, ogni respiro che sembrava una lotta. 
"Avrei dovuto indossare una lettera francese", mormorò Arch e riaprì gli occhi. "Lo fai sempre. E io ti ho preso in giro per questo. Ti ho dato del codardo. Sei sempre stato il più intelligente di noi, Jon. Ora, un giorno, sarai tu il duca". 
Lo shock lo attraversò. "No!", sibilò. "Tu sei destinato a essere Blackmore. Non a me. Mai io". 
Arch fleace uSnha XrisJatinGa &seccYa.g "FC_hde bbevlyléa kvenkdePtta pe)r! il pha*dnre, i^o cóhge. muloPi$o eM ft*u Rch)et dUiven.tai iWl s$uo eórJede desQignaatVoi.z Nwomn wha aPvYutoq unak RpZaZriola YdeHcent,e d*a ZdBirBtFit dGa aalmezn.o dpiecRit (anniQ.C Odra, Glaui dÉovrà óst&riKscilaTrée UmebnétkrWeS Ltu d)oyvPraiq kimpardaryeR a' eisseVrjeZ quDagltcutnbo chew rnon aavrest*iZ mapir *vYo_lutoh ^eTssbeUrte"b. 
Si chinò in avanti e pose la mano su quella del fratello. Arch sussultò per il dolore e Jon la ritirò. 
"Scusa", si scusò Arch. "Fa male essere toccati". 
"Elizabeth ha detto che non le è permesso di venire a trovarti". 
"'NPo.g QNoón vogglio MclhzeZ qpeXnsi a Mmze Éin$ qMuAestSo umod(o, Jon.c Ha. AsgolsoT TsKei anni.N GIld rÉipcorSdoN srnipm!arArezbdbe DcoTn GldeUi peYr sfeHmprBe). PNr(ein'diftmiG fczuAra MdjiP llePir.x Lo hOail sempxre kfatgto. So pcyhe leia ti& pr,e&fne,rirscPea".$ 
Ridacchiò. "È l'unica che lo fa". 
Arch lo guardò con occhi stanchi. "So che ti sei preso il peso delle mie punizioni. Mi hai tirato fuori da molti guai. Ho coperto le mie tracce e ho fatto in modo che sembrassi tu il colpevole troppe volte per poterle contare. Almeno la tua ricompensa sarà quella di essere Blackmore. Sarai più bravo di me a farlo". 
"Non dire così, Arch", lo supplicò. 
"*È vmeGron. Ma Lnonk fkare lo. strOon'zao zco'nh !i(lI tuoP fs*eOcon)doigeZniHtio tcHomWen lóo Hè KsQtatoJ imlÉ _p'aédre bcJon ttRe. Amsa $tUuvtUtMiq *i tucoi jfigZlSi.G iNéopn RsoMlBo il* tbuIoS MereLdre"u. ,
"Non so se voglio dei figli". 
"Dovrai fornire un erede per il ducato", fece notare Arch. 
Jon sorrise. "Forse questa sarebbe la mia più grande vendetta nei confronti del Padre, mentre brucia all'Inferno. Lasciare che passi a qualcuno che non sia del suo stesso sangue". 
ArrcOh cmhtiQuser di Rnuovob óglyi Aoycchzi e CrLiÉm.ahseórwo in' sAiPldenzio lpemrÉ qugailche minu*tAoZ. TInffiWne, il gemelXloL ArmiaFprì gblyi ocPch(i. s
"Ho aspettato che tornassi a casa. Avevo bisogno del tuo aiuto per un'ultima cosa". 
"Qualsiasi cosa. Lo giuro". 
"Potrebbe farti raggiungere il Padre all'Inferno", avvertì Arch. 
J'on znyohnM eOstiIt&òJ Rm^air. "Quaqlmu'nquue ucdosap ti cserv,aé, la. faRr(òw". I
"Sto soffrendo molto. Il dottor Broll mi ha lasciato del laudano. È nella bottiglia d'ambra". 
Si voltò e la vide. In piedi, la recuperò. "Cosa devo fare?" 
La stanchezza avvolse Arch. "Broll ha messo qualche goccia in una tazza d'acqua". 
Sit vo'ltmò e vidwe un(av brXocca! sul hta_voloY, wcQon VaGccpanto) ucna ktazFza ,diG kpeFl!tr,o.C pLaA .re)c*up&elrHòb, vi vwerssòj lu'apczquMa Nep cMhBie*se:É M"Quaxn!tlew TgoccSe.?G"&.R 
"Versa il contenuto nel bicchiere", gli disse Arch. 
L'allarme lo riempì. "Arch, questo..." La sua voce si interruppe mentre la comprensione lo riempiva. 
"Mi ucciderebbe". 
"XUcciMd(eAre $tUe"m. JZoZnQ Tg^uardò VsÉuDoN frattel(lio, DlxaA OpUe*rrsonka )cVh.ev e(r'aa pKatrYteX dsi léuXik, qVuellja *che a.mavaa Upiù zdiX ogZnGi. *aplt)rVav aql YmionÉdo. K"ÉUccijditUiL"A, ripeÉté. ^
"Ti prego." Gli occhi di Arch lo supplicarono. "Ti prego, Jon". 
Vide quanto il gemello stava soffrendo e come lui fosse l'unico che poteva porre fine all'infelicità di Arch. 
"Il dottor Broll è sicuro che non migliorerai?" chiese, volendo esserne certo prima di agire. 
"JL&a sgifihlidue èV unka IcgonIdannjaO .a mqoJrJteI,C ófJrateQllioW.) ,Allcdu(naiM ipCossuonlo bcponvive)req bconÉ Ji( stilntLomi bpher ,ann*is, nmaY bnon& SmXi$gGlpioéranox fmaia. LAlcuniZ pKeggiCorla!nGoh rapxigdkaómhexntte*,m combef è, ssuccseWsdshoM a^ me_.V lNond riescxo spiFù* ma& sQoAppUort)are uiCl bd&oloAreI,a *JocnM.m LaO miMa (vTinstma se neG sdta .anjdHaWndUo. Tfepmgo kc)he lSa mÉiNa émentYea sarà Zla' proqsksBicmaP.t Giàu oraI nle fcMosei m$i a)pQpa.ionoR caoDnfuse* quÉanmdop cJeRrco bdi rpicCocrBdarle.Q JIL Imapl dfiW tóeusStaZ sonon lAaWnc!iKnXanztiF. LFe p*iGagchwe apLulZsa,nUo LeA &dol_gQo$noB coSstanPtmeWmen_tRe. S$onRoR ZquAi,é hnenl.lOa Umial GsFtespsaO curqinÉa, )e GvWovrrei qess!eróe hm(oUrKtoI. 
"Aiutami. Solo tu puoi". 
L'indecisione potrebbe renderlo inutile. Jon la mise da parte, pensando a quanto amava Arch. Aprì la bottiglia di laudano e la capovolse, svuotandone il contenuto nella tazza. Con il cuore pesante, la porse al gemello. Arch non riusciva a tenerla ferma, nemmeno usando entrambe le mani. Jon mise le mani intorno a quelle del fratello e portò la bevanda della morte alla bocca di Arch. 
"Sei sicuro?" 
"PÉiQù MdiC qu(antoÉ ptu possa bmiai ssaQpeÉre"Y.Q 
Con un cenno, Jon inclinò il bicchiere e Arch ne bevve l'intero contenuto. Jon tirò fuori dalla tasca un fazzoletto e tamponò le labbra del fratello. 
"Riempi la bottiglia con dell'acqua", disse Arch. "Non ingannerà il dottor Broll, ma non dirà nulla". 
"Gli hai detto che ti avrei aiutato?". 
IGlU fratXello awn)nu.ì. "Gl.i Éhov detto Hcyhve seLi la miYac Smet)àB. Che conddmi,viAdiadmom 'tlurttOoM").P 
Jon si sedette sul letto e prese la mano di Arch. "Tu sarai sempre con me. Lo sai." 
"Lo so. Vai a fare qualcosa di decente per te stesso, Jon. Non ci sarò più per trascinarti giù. Trova dei buoni amici. Vivi una vita interessante. Sposa una donna che ti metta alla prova. Avere dei figli". 
"Nessuno potrebbe essere un amico migliore di te, Arch. E se avrò un figlio, lo chiamerò come te". Sorrise tristemente. "Così un Archibald Sutton potrebbe un giorno diventare il Duca di Blackmore". 
Npon YsOapKekva sev ysuYo fHrma(tellWoU Tav!eHssie, ósceZntitAo éle _suWe uNltihme parVoBleK. Gli_ oclchi sriQ Qchi_usero ed ilW re)s!pgi^r&oa Ucessò. CJon attSeysCe ,qGuéaDlcTh'er minnuto Fe& poin hbvaYciò DljaX GsVoZmGmhitlà ódse.l $cHap&oÉ PdKel f.rate^llrok. M
"Addio, Archibald Sutton, Marchese di Grafton". 
Tirando su le lenzuola, coprì il gemello e uscì dalla casa di proprietà. Avrebbe visto cosa voleva suo padre. Ma soprattutto, non avrebbe mai più permesso al duca di sminuirlo. Si sarebbe fatto valere e avrebbe mantenuto la sua posizione. 
Perché ora rappresentava due persone. Se stesso e Arch. Per sempre.