Page 76 of Duke of Rath

“What is it, then?”

“It’s your wretched brother!”

Was the minute over? She didn’t feel any better yet. She should be over her tears by now and ready to do the basket exercise.

“Dorian?” asked Chastity. “What did he do now?”

“He left me…”

“Left you?” demanded Chastity with outrage in her voice. Her arms wrapped tighter around Patience. “No, how could he?”

“I don’t mean forever… I don’t know. Maybe forever. He was so loving and so giving one moment… Then just after I gave myself to him, and hoped we’d be happy, he stood up and left. And I haven’t seen him for two days!”

Chastity tsked, very much unlike a duke’s sister, and it made Patience feel infinitely better. Anne would tsk on her behalf, too.

Chastity rubbed Patience’s shoulder. “What an ungentlemanly thing to do!”

Patience suddenly grinned and looked up at Chastity. “Is that your way of saying ‘what a scoundrel’?”

“Yes,” said Chastity as she offered Patience a handkerchief. “It most certainly is.”

As Patience wiped her tears and blew her nose, she realized she did feel better, and Chastity’s eyes were full of sympathy. “I am sorry to hear my brother is making you so sad. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Patience sighed deeply, releasing the last of her anger and sadness. That was an excellent question. Not just because Chastity could actually help, but also because Patience could help herself. She could do something. Keep digging into the mystery that her husband hid from her.

The one that stood between them and their happiness.

“Perhaps…” said Patience thoughtfully. “You didn’t know if Dorian knew my brother, but do you happen to know anything about the Oxford incident?”

Chastity frowned as she thought. “The Oxford incident? I’m sorry, is this some social concept I’m not familiar with? That would not be surprising.”

“Oh, no, I believe it’s something that happened in Oxford, involving your brother and mine. Twelve years ago.”

“Oh,” said Chastity. Her cool face, normally so collected and impartial, suddenly changed as ripples of fear and sadness passed through it. “Right. Yes. Twelve years ago, I remember Dorian coming back from Oxford for Papa’s funeral. He was…um…in poor condition.”

“What does that mean?” asked Patience.

“Well,” said Chastity. “He was devastated. Distraught beyond what seemed reasonable.”

“What seemed reasonable?” asked Patience as she looked at the rooftop of the glasshouse visible through the window. “Are you certain? Your papa died. I would suppose being quite distraught was to be expected.”

“Yes.” Chastity fingered the handle of her teacup. “You’re right, of course. But I swear something else plagued him. It must have been his hand.”

“His hand?” Patience asked, a chill running through her.

“Yes. He had some sort of an accident, and his hand was burned severely.”

Patience swallowed. “Do you know what happened exactly?”

“He wouldn’t say.”

“Even to you?”

Chastity scoffed. “I’d be the last person he’d trouble with anything unpleasant or distressing. He’s always been so protective of me. I know he loves me, but I sometimes wish he’d give me some credit.”

Patience nodded. “I quite understand.”

“But do you know who might know something about this incident?”