Chapter 25

25

Patience sat at the rosewood desk in her sitting room, quill in hand as she pored over her botanical journal.

Her mind was divided. Part of it was focused on transcribing her data on the control group of roses, noting the progression of diseases like black spot and powdery mildew. After Chastity had pointed out to her that such data was missing from her research, Patience had gone through her journals and realized she actually might have enough data to represent the control group.

The other half of her mind wandered to Dorian.

A mere two days had passed since the best day of her life. When he had shared the deepest part of himself with her and they had become one. Truely husband and wife. When she had told him about her roses, and he had encouraged her to finish her botanical paper, and she had glowed from his belief in her.

He was the first person in her life who had supported her that way. Not even Anne had suggested she write the paper and submit it. Lady Chastity had found a flaw in it, even though that had turned out to be useful.

But he had said she should do it.

He had made her his, truly and irrevocably, and when they were connected in the deepest ways two people could, she had trusted him. And she'd been so, so happy.

In that blissful moment, entwined in his strong arms, she knew she loved him.

Which made it hurt even more when the next moment he had drawn back and become as cold as ice.

Since then, for two nights, he hadn't slept in his bed. And she, therefore, hadn't slept at all. Her eyes burned from the lack of sleep. Mrs. Knight told her Dorian was spending time in a little cottage he owned in Rathford Village.

Her hand holding her pen froze over her journal. Had she done something wrong? Was she not enough to hold his affection?

Tears pricked at her eyes, and she set down the quill, hands trembling. If she could just find out Dorian's secret. If she could just understand him, and reassure him there was nothing he could do to push her away… That she was ready to share his burden. That she would understand no matter what it was.

Whatever connected Dorian and John, she would understand like no one else. Uncovering the Oxford incident was the key to her marital happiness, she was sure.

If only she could break through to Dorian; if only he would stop running from her, pushing her away…

Her first impulse was to turn away from her sadness, her regret, her anger. Bad emotions belonged in the basket… Or did they?

The cheer she usually put on in situations such as these felt like a fragile mask. And, to her surprise, it didn't feel like it would help her with Dorian. Or even make her feel better.

Perhaps she should let herself feel her emotions ?

The sound of approaching footsteps stirred Patience from her melancholy. Her pulse quickened and she sat up straighter, daring to hope it was Dorian seeking her out. Perhaps he had come to take her in his arms again and chase away the doubts plaguing her?

But it was not the duke who appeared in the doorway. Patience's heart sank as Lady Chastity stepped into the room, disappointment washing over her. She quickly fixed a smile on her face.

"Your Grace," Chastity greeted with a curtsy. "I hope I am not interrupting?"

"Not at all," Patience said as she turned to Chastity. Like last time, she was in a practical dark gown of excellent fabric and cut. Mademoiselle Antoinette would have had a fit and probably thrown such a gown away if Patience dared to wear something so plain. "And, please, do call me Patience. We're sisters now, after all."

Chastity cocked her head in acknowledgment, and her eyes behind her spectacles warmed. "Indeed, we are. You may call me Chastity. I never had a sister and am quite delighted."

Patience's smile widened, and there was nothing false about it at all. Chastity looked quite rigid and strict, and Patience wondered if it was mere shyness and lack of social confidence. Whatever the reason for her stiffness, Chastity was a brilliant woman, and Patience wanted to be friends with a fellow female scientist.

"Forgive me for enquiring, but are you all right?" asked Chastity.

Oh, Patience missed Anne. She missed Dorian, too. And having someone friendly ask her if she was all right lifted her spirits.

Patience nodded, putting on her smiling mask. "I'm perfectly fine. Thank you for asking. I was just working on my paper. After your suggestion, I did find notes that I recorded through the years on the growth, bloom quality, pests, and diseases of both the gallica rose and the damask rose. I think it's enough to represent the control group. I'm almost finished."

"That is good news." Chastity approached the desk, curiosity shining in her eyes. "May I take a closer look?"

With a nod, Patience slid the journal towards Chastity, swallowing back the lump in her throat. "Of course."

Chastity studied the pages intently, her brow furrowed in concentration. After a few moments, she looked up with a smile. "This is excellent work. Now your paper is so much more scientifically sound."

Patience felt a flush of pride at the compliment, which had no false notes at all. "Thank you! It was not easy to hear my paper may not be good enough after all these years… But you were right, and your feedback was exactly what I needed."

"I am glad." Chastity's eyes glimmered with enthusiasm. "We're stronger together, are we not?"

Patience's heart ached, and suddenly, she did not want to pretend. With Anne, she'd allow herself to cry for a minute or two because sometimes there was no other way to turn away from the sadness…and she'd tell her everything.

Chastity blurred before her eyes, a sob exploded through her chest, and she burst into tears.

"Patience…" Chastity mumbled, clearly in shock. "What—what did I say? I only meant we, as women, should stick together… Er?—"

Patience covered her face with her hands and cried, nodding. "You did… It's not you…"

Chastity pulled another chair next to Patience and sat on it. Awkwardly, she put her arm around Patience's shoulders. "Oh, Patience, I—I don't know what to say… Please, calm down. "

Instead of calming down, Patience turned towards her new sister and practically fell into Chastity's arms. Chastity wrapped her arms around Patience and patted her stiffly.

"Er…there, there?" Chastity said. "I…er…I'd never have said anything about control groups if I knew you'd cry like this. I only meant to help?—"

"I know. It's not the control groups."

"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 tsk ed, 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?"

"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.

"I can't say much. I know you were distraught yourself, Chastity, or you would have noticed the state of his health at that time. How angry he was before your father's death, how many duels he engaged in, that he didn't care what happened to his body. And how damaged he was when he returned home for the funeral. You're a smart woman, Chastity, and so are you, Duchess. I can't, however, tell you anything else. And I do suggest that you stop digging, even though I know it's difficult. He won't ever tell you. And you're going to ruin what little chance of happiness you have with him. I regret I will have to inform him of your enquiry."

Patience shook her head in frustration. "I wish your loyalty was to the truth, not to your brotherhood."

Lucien leaned back and sighed. "Impossible. We will always protect each other, to the death. That's what our parents made us. Each of us lacked true family. We found one in each other. All seven of us."

Patience and Chastity exchanged a long look.

"Well, then," said Patience, putting her teacup on the table and getting to her feet. "I suppose I have to find comfort knowing my husband has six loyal friends who would support him no matter what."

Chastity stood up, as well.

Lucien followed suit. "I am sorry I can't be of more help, Duchess. "

As Chastity preceded Patience to the door, Luhst's gaze lingered on Chastity's back, and Patience heard him murmur, "How sweet is the fruit one can never taste."