Page 30 of The Marquess of Secrets

“It’s a part of my past I would rather forget.” Harrison exhaled. “And regardless of the gossip, I have not engaged in any excesses since.”

Tremain threw back the rest of his port. “Neither have I. I had a few brief dalliances between campaigns, but nothing to compare with—well, best forgotten. Older and wiser and all that rot. We all have our demons, and they manifest in strange ways.”

If Tremain only knew.

“Do you regret keeping your identity secret?” Harrison asked, his tone soft. “Did you ever think yourself a coward for hiding behind a false character, even though you were doing good works? I mean, obviously, you were trained to be a vicar. I’m talking of the fictitious name and background.”

Tremain raised an eyebrow. “Coward?”

“Easy, Brother. I’m not saying you are one, merely asking if you ever thought yourself one?”

Tremain poured more port into his tumbler. He waved it toward Harrison, but he shook his head.

“An interesting question. Yes, it crossed my mind more than once. I also dealt with the guilt over my selfishness. But I eventually came to the conclusion it is my life, and I would make my own choices, damn the consequences. The hard truth of it? I was in no way ready to step into my role as viscount. I never asked for the honor, never wanted it, but how can you refuse the queen?”

Tremain’s expression turned reflective. “So I created another persona. A place where I felt safe, free from the encumbrances of society and the expectations of our family. And our parents do have them even though they do not beat us about the head with them—they are there. Hence your dogged obligation regarding the title.”

Harrison nodded. The expectations were there; how could they not be? Their father was a duke. Their mother is the daughter of an earl. Blue blood that could be traced back generations.

Duty. Honor. Expectations.

“It also gave me time to heal,” Tremain continued, “not only physically, but mentally and emotionally. I was a complete wreck.”

Harrison nodded once again. “Understandable. But what about an individual who was not involved in a horrid war? What would be his impetus for such an undertaking?”

Tremain scratched his chin. “Without knowing the particulars, I would hazard to guess self-preservation—and the protection of others or a combination of both. In my mind, it’s not cowardly but cautious. Prudent. Sensible.”

“I’ve something of importance to discuss with you, Spence, and Father once we meet up at the estate. And Mother too, for that matter.”

“Oh? Don’t care to give me a hint?”

“It may change the family’s opinion of me, one way or the other. I will be revealing what I have been up to for the past several years. It’s time to come clean.”

Tremain crossed his arms. “This secret life you spoke of is your own? Sounds ominous. You are not going to reveal something along the line of being a spy for the crown?”

Harrison placed his empty glass on the table. “Not as romantic, but perhaps as noble. At least in my eyes. Or perhaps I have an inflated view of my own importance.”

“My God, we are a strange lot,” Tremain mused. “The three most eccentric chaps ever to breathe air. Come now, give me a hint?”

He and his brothers were certainly different from other peers, to be sure.

“Later.”

“You are full of secrets.”

Harrison gave a short bark of laughter. “Yes, it appears I am.”

“When are you heading to Gransford Manor?” Tremain asked. “I’ll be heading there in two weeks.”

“I imagine a couple of days before the weddings.”

“Then I suppose you will not be traveling with me. I’ll be making the journey by train.”

“No, I’ve obligations to see to before I depart.”

Yes. There were many obligations.

Including the lovely lady recovering in his guestroom.