Page 77 of Duke of Rath

“Who?”

“Lucien. I am quite certain Lucien knows all Dorian’s secrets. They’ve been best friends since they were boys.”

Patience jumped to her feet, her chest lighting with hope. “Yes, I have been wanting to ask him but have not had an opportunity. Do you by any chance know where he lives, sister?”

Chastity followed her example and stood. “Yes, of course.”

“Could you please take me there?”

Chastity nodded, enthusiasm shining through her eyes. “Of course. We will finish your paper after. I’ll help you.”

About one hour and a half later, their carriage was being parked in front of a grand three-story mansion in Mayfair, constructed of pristine Bath stone. Patience and Chastity passed through the wrought iron gates, imposing and black. They climbed broad marble steps leading to double doors. Cherry wood gleamed in the daylight, the brass knockers polished to a shine.

The butler opened the door and, to Patience’s relief, said the duke was indeed at home and asked them to wait.

The entrance hall was grand, with black-and-white-checkered marble tiles under Patience’s and Chastity’s echoing footsteps. Exquisitely carved marble statues of the Greek pantheon stood on pedestals of polished granite. Proud and imposing portraits hung between them—likely the duke’s ancestors. The air was cool against Patience’s skin, the scent of fresh flowers from an ornate vase on a mahogany sideboard mingling with a hint of beeswax and turpentine polish.

Not a few minutes later, the man himself hurried down the red-carpeted staircase. He was as striking as ever. His blond hair was well-groomed and the violet color of his eyes contrasted brightly with the yellow silk of his waistcoat.

“Your Grace.” He gave a small ceremonial bow by way of greeting. “Lady Chastity.” He gave the same bow to Chastity. “What a surprise. A pleasant one,” he said as he glanced at Chastity. “Please do come in.” He gestured with his arm towards the doors where the butler stood waiting.

Patience and Chastity entered a beautiful sitting room with tall windows draped in velvet. A pianoforte stood in the sunlight. A gray stone fireplace with a shiny black grate dominated the long wall. Pale yellow panels hung with oil paintings lined the walls. An ornately carved sofa in the same dark color as the drapes stood in the center flanked by two similar armchairs. The room smelled fainty of tobacco and sandalwood. Patience could hear birdsong coming through the closed windows from the little park outside.

“Please, bring us tea,” said Lucien as he followed them.

The butler nodded and retreated.

“Well,” said Lucien, giving them a bright smile that Patience couldn’t help but return.

“You look well,” said Chastity as she took a seat in the chair opposite the sofa. “Did you not engage in any debauchery last night?”

Patience took a seat in the remaining armchair, next to Chastity, and Lucien grinned, his eyes glimmering with a special meaning. He leaned against the side of the sofa, his long, muscular legs showcased as the fabric of his dark pantaloons stretched over his thighs.

“You only wish,” he said. “Perhaps your brother is lost to his marriage, and I just lost a great debauchery partner, but I still have five others willing to oblige. And you look well, as always,” he said gallantly.

Chastity raised a single eyebrow.

Patience couldn’t help but wonder if she was witnessing an exchange between two people who knew far too much about each other, like a brother and sister would, or if this was flirting.

“I’m very obliged by your visit,” said Lucien while the butler came in with the tray laden with a teapot, cups, a milk jug, and some biscuits.

“I am here because I wanted to ask about the Oxford incident that involved my brother,” said Patience.

Lucien lifted his cup of tea, which the butler had just poured. “Ah.”

Patience and Chastity took their cups, as well. Lucien sat down on the sofa opposite them and leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. He took a long sip of his tea as he watched the butler bow and close the door behind him.

“I was afraid you would come to inquire,” said Lucien. “Pryde told me you asked him.”

“I did,” said Patience. “But I’m no closer to discovering the truth. Will you help me understand? You don’t seem to be as bothered by the question of honor as Pryde is.”

Lucien chuckled as he put his cup on the saucer. “That is an excellent observation, Duchess. However, I will not betray my best friend’s trust.” His gaze lingered on Chastity…with longing? “Ever.”

Disappointment churned in her gut. “I suppose I shouldn’t have expected anything more.”

“But you can tell us something,” said Chastity. “Dorian is not just Patience’s husband. He’s my brother, too. You’d want to know in my place, right?”

Lucien sighed and looked at both of them, thinking.