Page 28 of Duke of Rath

Before he could ponder the question for any length of time, his friends pulled him aside, into an empty room adjacent to the ballroom.

“How are you doing after Elysium?” asked Lucien. “You left early. Did you feel well?”

“Fine. I—um…” He looked over his shoulder to make sure no one heard him. “I didn’t partake of Lilith’s services.”

His friends looked at each other.

“Whyever not?” asked Lucien.

Pryde sighed deeply with understanding in his chestnut eyes. “Because deep down, he’s a loyal man. He has a wife and wouldn’t betray her honor with another woman.”

Dorian felt his jaw working and nodded. Pryde understood matters of honor like no one else would.

Pryde shook his head. “I told you you’re walking a dangerous line, friend. I warned you this was a disastrous match.”

“If he wants to fuck his wife, what’s wrong with that?” asked Lucien. “Look at her. I’d never leave her bed if she were mine.”

A sharp slice of jealousy made him grind his teeth. The three of them turned to look at Patience, whom they could see through the open door. She stood twenty feet away, sparkling, laughing like a little bell, and making everyone around her laugh, too. Her gaze quickly darted to his and locked on, and the same euphoria as he felt when he kissed her filled him.

“I will pretend you didn’t just refer to my wife and your bed in one sentence,” said Dorian through gritted teeth as he turned back to Lucien. “Next time you imply anything similar, you’re a dead man.”

Pryde bit his lower lip, his chin jutting forward. “Rath, listen to yourself. You’re snapping at your best friend. You refuse to sleep with anyone but your wife. Clearly, you want her.”

Dorian’s jaws clenched so hard he thought they’d snap.

“He’s right,” said Lucien.

“You must think about what you are going to do,” insisted Pryde. “You want intimacy with your wife, but clearly you can’t tell her everything. It’s not just about you. The two of us are at fault, too. We helped you cover it up. We orchestrated the suicide. We have lied to everyone for twelve years.”

Lucien sighed. “I’m sorry. Just teasing you, friend. I’d never do anything to seduce your wife.”

Dorian nodded. “I know. I know. I can’t look at her without remembering the incident in Oxford with her brother.”

“Your Grace,” came a strangled-sounding female voice…one he recognized all too well.

He turned around to find Patience in the doorway.

“What is this incident that had to do with my brother?” she asked.

Dorian froze, his heart dropping like a stone.

Good God, how in the world had she come so close when he’d just seen her chatting with a group of people twenty feet away?

Her eyes were wide, the light he’d seen just a few minutes ago gone from them. The sparkling connection between them had also disappeared.

What had he even been thinking? Kissing her…being proud of her…imagining the life they would never have anyway?

This was the life written for him. Keeping his terrible secret. Being miserable. Being alone.

He searched for the right words, but all that came forth was a strangled “Patience, I⁠—”

“Did you know him?” she demanded.

His heart pounded in his chest, shame and fear threatening to drown out all reason. Walls were closing in around him, the secret he had so carefully guarded now in danger of being exposed like an open wound. He could not bear it, especially not after he had allowed himself to believe, if only for a fleeting moment, that there might be something real between him and Patience.

“Enough!” he roared, his voice echoing through the chamber as he slammed his fist onto a nearby table, sending an ornate vase crashing to the floor.

Shattered pieces of porcelain rocketed around the room. The chatter of the people in the other room quieted. Several people rushed to the doorway to look in at him.