The Truth About Dukes (Rogues to Riches #5) - Grace Burrowes Page 0,11
have a prior acquaintance. How can that be, when he’s a recluse, and she has been tucked safely under your wing since Jack Wentworth’s death?”
Early in the marriage, Quinn had deceived Jane. Out of misplaced consideration for his new wife’s delicate sensibilities, he’d kept a few plans to himself—and nearly got himself killed in the process. Death would have been an acceptable result of such foolishness, but disappointing Jane had been nearly unbearable.
She had forgiven him. Quinn did not make the mistake of presuming he would be granted such clemency twice.
“Constance hasn’t always been tucked safely under my wing, Jane.”
“You worked,” she said, patting his arm, “as a youth. I know. You took any paying job, and you were a footman for a time, though you sent wages home for your siblings.”
As dearly as Quinn loved his wife, as much as he trusted her, this tale was still difficult to recount.
“After Jack Wentworth died, I became a clerk at a bank in York. The owner of that bank bequeathed me some means and many useful connections. My situation began to improve, partly because I was willing to travel—to Scotland, to London, to the ports, and thus I left my siblings in the care of tutors and governesses from time to time. When Constance was fifteen, I came home from negotiating a loan to a Birmingham gunsmith and found my sister had fled the premises.”
“Fled the premises? Fled, Quinn?”
Leave it to Jane to seize on a telling detail. “That was my sense. I searched for her everywhere, hired runners, questioned every neighbor, offered a reward, took out advertisements, posted spies at every coaching inn and quay, but she had vanished. We knew her flight had been premeditated because she took some old clothes and a bit of money.”
“Did she elope with a tutor? A curate? A connection from her former life?”
“That was my first thought, but Althea said Constance positively loathed her music teacher and her French tutor, that she had no use for the riding instructor and even less for the dancing master. My bank staff never frequented my home, and our neighbors tended to be older couples with grown children. She ran off alone and she was gone for more than three months.”
At the foot of the garden, Althea was standing much too close to Lord Nathaniel—or he to her. Was Constance watching this scene from the gallery, and if so, what did she make of her sister’s sudden engagement?
“Constance excels at hiding,” Jane said. “When I first married you, I thought she would be my greatest challenge. Althea confronted me directly about my intentions where you were concerned; Stephen did so even more overtly. I kept waiting for Constance to question my motives or test my resolve, but she never did. She was polite and quiet, no trouble at all, but to this day I have the sense she will pounce if I ever serve you a bad turn.”
“She caused a great deal of trouble when she was fifteen.”
“Many of us are troublesome at that age, Quinn. Where did she go?”
“I still don’t know the whole of it. When I eventually found her, she was handling the rough work in the kitchen of a private hospital in the West Riding.”
Good God, Althea had just kissed her fiancé’s cheek. The kiss had been chaste enough, but Quinn’s heart still lurched at the sight.
“Why would a girl who knew how dangerous the streets could be run off like that, Quinn? Why turn her back on safety, security, and loving family?”
The lovebirds wandered up the walk, arm in arm, meandering back toward the house.
“Constance was initially unforthcoming about the why of it. When I brought her home, I had to promise that I’d not question her, or make a great to-do, or call anybody out. She would have gone right back to scrubbing potatoes if I’d so much as raised my voice.”
“She has endless self-discipline,” Jane said, smoothing a hand over her skirts. “All four of you do, Stephen most of all.”
Self-discipline was not a characteristic Quinn would have attributed to his brother. Stephen was self-indulgent to a fault, but also inhumanly determined on his objectives.
“There is more to the tale, Jane, but I’ll save it for when I’m not mustering my resolve to impersonate a gracious, doting older brother.”
Jane kissed him, much as Althea had kissed Nathaniel. “You are a gracious, doting older brother. You suspect Constance encountered Rothhaven when she worked at that private hospital?”