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Dorian had refused to tell her about the incident in Oxford with her brother. But she could ask Pryde directly and perhaps he’d tell her.
She excused herself from Dorian and Lady Hargrave, as much as it pained her to leave them alone. She knew she had to trust him, or this marriage was doomed.
He watched her with a puzzled gaze as she walked off but didn’t follow her. He wanted to talk to Lady Hargrave privately, as well.
As Patience made her way through heavily perfumed ladies and gentlemen, Pryde saw her approaching, and gave her a nod and a polite smile. He introduced her to the gentleman to whom he was speaking. They chatted for a few minutes, and then, luckily, the gentleman was distracted by someone else.
“Sir, may I have a word?” she asked, quickly glancing around to see if anyone could hear them. “In private.”
“I doubt Dorian will like that,” said Pryde without looking at her.
He was right, of course.
“Please, this won’t take long. It is about Dorian.”
Pryde nodded. “Very well.” He quickly led her towards a quiet corner where there were not many people gathered.
“How can I help?” he asked.
“I know you must be very disapproving of our marriage,” said Patience, “and you’re right. I am undeserving of the name of Rath. I wasn’t born into an aristocratic family. I lack education, preparation, manners. But I fully intend to be a deserving wife to him. I know there’s more to him than just those outbursts of rage.”
Pryde was struck dumb for a few moments, staring at her. Finally, he said, “I must admit, I didn’t expect you to say that.”
“Oh. I suppose I have surprised Dorian quite a few times, as well.” She smiled and found Pryde’s gaze warming up.
“It’s not you in particular I disapprove of,” said Pryde finally, with a softer voice.
“What then?” she asked.
“I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to say.”
“Is it something to do with my brother?” she asked, and knew she was right by the way he stood speechless again, defenselessness making his brown eyes soft and open. “That incident in Oxford you, Dorian, and Luhst discussed?”
His expression became shuttered, and he looked away. “Your brother was distressed.”
“Distressed?” she asked, frowning. “I never saw him distressed in my life. What distressed him?”
“I don’t know, Duchess. Look, it’s hard to accept someone took his own life, but the sooner you come to terms with it, the better.”
“So the Oxford incident is related to his suicide?” she said, undeterred. “How is my husband connected to it?”
Pryde sighed. “It’s not me you should be asking, it’s Dorian. And because I do actually like you as a person, I feel obliged to inform you, I will tell him of your questions. I gave your husband my word, and it’s nothing personal against you.”
Patience straightened her shoulders. “Very well. You should do what you need to do. I thank you for your time, Duke.”
With that, she left him, working her way back through the crowd. She was worried about Rath’s reaction to her inquiries. Would he want to punish her again? Would he do something worse this time, something she truly wouldn’t like?
Oh God, he wouldn’t take away her roses, would he?
Still, she mustn’t stop until she learned the truth.
If Pryde and Dorian didn’t want to tell her anything, there was still one more person she could ask—even if that would make her husband more furious.
16
Seven days later, Patience’s family arrived.
As Dorian and Patience stood by the entrance of Rath Hall to greet the Roses, they scattered out of the carriage he’d sent for them in a big, loud, cheerful bunch, all rosy-cheeked and curly-haired.
