Page 34 of The Truth About Dukes
“I met Rothhaven when I ran away. He is more formidable than you give him credit for, Quinn. Most people consigned to a madhouse for ten years wouldn’t live to tell the tale, much less recount it coherently.”
Quinn gestured to the rocking chairs before the hearth. “One suspected you and His Grace were not strangers. As asylums go, that place was commodious.”
Constance took a seat with a sense of relief. Quinn was no longer trying to evade the topic, meaning he’d found a means of reconciling himself to the situation.
“That hospital was only commodious on the outside, Quinn, and that was by design. Soames fancied himself a physician of the mind, and used his patients to experiment on, but the worst torment those people suffered was shame and rage that their own families had put them there.”
Quinn leaned his head back and closed his eyes. In his profile, Constance saw both the handsome, determined youth he’d been, and the fierce old fellow he’d become, but she also saw her brother. A good man, not perfect, but well worth loving.
He set the chair to rocking slowly. “One of the worst torments I ever faced was coming home to find that my baby sister had left my house. Rothhaven’s father discarded him, you discarded us. You discarded safety itself, and while I can guess at some of your reasons, I’ve never asked you why.”
“I was upset.” The grandest of understatements. “I was afraid.”
Quinn turned his head to gaze at her. “Of me?”
Oh, Quinn.“Not of you, Quinn. Never of you. Of what would follow. I was not thinking clearly. You might say I was addled.”
The silence that bloomed was a little sad, but mostly peaceful. Constance could have this conversation with her brother now because Quinn was a father and a husband, no longer a young man ruthlessly determined to build his fortune and damn anything and anyone who stood in his way.
“If you are thinking clearly now,” he said, “you will agree to two conditions. I know you can marry Rothhaven without my blessing, but that would disappoint Jane. Let’s avoid that if we can, shall we?”
“I’d rather not disappoint anybody.”Ever again.
“First, with respect to the settlements, I will ensure your money remains in trust outside the ducal estate. Rothhaven will understand why.”
“Because you think he’s half mad.”
“Because I don’t know him, but at any point, somebody could decide an inquiry must be made on behalf of the Crown regarding his fitness. If a guardian of Rothhaven’s property is required, I will of course offer my services in that capacity, but generally, the more disinterested a prospective guardian is, the more likely he is to be appointed. I could conceivably inherit some unentailed property from Rothhaven through a deceased sister, for example.”
Men and their machinations.“Not if his will says otherwise.”
“Valid point. Nonetheless, Lynley Vale marches with Rothhaven Hall, and thus I am not disinterested in Rothhaven’s estate. I could divert his water for my benefit, allow my flocks onto his fields, and so forth. I want your money protected, in part because it might be the only money you and His Grace can claim.”
“I see your point.” Quinn had a gift for strategy, and he was right: Rothhaven would understand this measure and agree to it. “What else?”
Quinn rose. “You must tell him about the situation that sent you fleeing to the moors, Constance. He deserves to know the whole tale, and before he takes the public step of courting you.”
Constance remained in her seat because she did not trust her legs to hold her up. “Of all people, I thought you would understand why discretion is in order. It was nearly half my life ago, Quinn. In all the years since, we’ve heard nothing. No breath of scandal, no hint of repercussions.”
Quinn prowled over to the bassinette again and peered down at his youngest daughter, his expression unreadable.
“Jane and I did not have an auspicious beginning as husband and wife. I was condemned to die, she hadn’t a groat to her name, and her father was more of a worry than a comfort. We were not at our best, but we agreed to be honest with each other. We agreed to show each other that much trust and respect. I did not keep my side of the bargain very well at first. My motives were above reproach, but I disappointed the woman who’d trusted me with the rest of her life.”
He left the infant dreaming her baby-dreams and headed for the door. “If you value Rothhaven’s esteem, if you truly mean to have a marriage with him and not simply a union of convenience and appearances, then you must put your situation before him in all its details. Whatever else is true about Rothhaven, he’s honest. You say he’s no coward, and I believe you, but neither are you a coward, Constance. Far from it.”
He waited, hand on the door latch, as if Constance was supposed to say something to such an odd, touching, backhanded compliment.
“It’s old news, Quinn. Years old.”
“If it’s of so little import, then telling your prospective husband should make no difference. The hardest lesson I had to learn when I married Jane was to match her for honesty and courage. My duchess is awake, and I must convey this development to her, if that’s allowed?”
“Yes, you may tell Jane, but please don’t mention this to Stephen yet. I’ll tell Althea, though I suspect Nathaniel is already aware of the situation.”
Quinn aimed a look at Constance, half over his shoulder. “Do youlikehim, Con?”
“Very much. We argue, we discuss, we plan.…I like him very much, Quinn.”
That seemed to satisfy Quinn for the moment. He slipped through the door, closing it quietly, leaving Constance to the company of the sleeping baby. She was tempted to pick up the child and steal a snuggle, but waking a sleeping baby was never well advised.
