Page 40 of My Ruthless Duke

“You presume that you know my wife better than I do?” Dorian’s temper flared as he rose from his desk. “Do not insert yourself into matters that do not concern you, and my marriage does not concern you.”

“Oh, I see,” Mary huffed. “So, your marriage concerns me just fine when you feel you need help or insight, but when I show concern for my friend, then it does not concern me?”

The muscle in Dorian’s jaw ticked as he shook his head. “I do not have to listen to this.”

“You cannot simply ignore every conversation that makes you uncomfortable, Dorian!” Mary continued, following him out of his study and into the corridor. “You have to face this sooner or later! Marriage is for life! You have been barely hanging on just the last month!”

He tuned her out and walked with long strides down the hall. He grabbed his coat from the foyer and did not stop at any of Mary’s shouted words or insults.

He knew enough about his wife to know that this news would break her.

London was not as inviting to him as he had hoped it would have been. He had hoped when he had left, that putting physical distance between himself and the problem might have soothed his nerves, even just a little bit. But that was proving not to be the case. He could not get Mary’s annoying voice out of his head. Now, it sat there right at the forefront of his mind, right beside how he imagined Cordelia’s face would crumble the moment he told her what he had done.

She would never forgive me.

And then what? He had to purchase her another home in the country so that she could be far enough away from him? Perhaps he should have done that from the beginning. At least, then, he would not have come to desire her so greatly. He would not have ever allowed himself to miss her face, to see the sparkle in her eyes when she smiled. Perhaps then he would have been able to have actual control over this whole situation instead of allowing this to become the mess that it presently was.

The doors of White’s were opened for him as he arrived, the servants keeping their gaze dutifully straight forward. Another came to relieve him of his coat as he moved without stopping toward the main room. There was the usual scent of cigar smoke and tobacco pipes, the sweet almond of whiskey, and cherry notes of brandy that seemed to be the constant perfume in theair. There was a low hum of conversation converging from the various card tables as well as seating areas.

Dorian was only interested in one particular table occupied by three familiar faces, and a man he did not recognize. Still, he did not wait for an invitation to sit with them and simply pulled out the chair for himself. Patrick was the only one who rose to his feet to shake Dorian’s hand. He almost did not wish to do it, given how he felt about the whole situation with Mary. But it would only bring about more questions if he refused to greet him properly.

One of the attendants brought him his usual order and placed it on the table for him, which he was only too happy to accept. He gestured with his hand to keep the drinks coming and took his first sip. He hoped that the alcohol would help steady his nerves.

He should have been doing that this whole time.

“We did not expect to see you for another week or two, Your Grace. To what do we owe this unexpected pleasure?” Patrick asked conversationally.

Dorian’s brow arched. “I was not aware that there was a schedule that I was meant to follow.”

Patrick faltered, shuffling the hand of cards that had been dealt to him, arranging them differently as he watched Dorian over his cards. “Well, we are always happy to share your taciturn company, Your Grace.”

Patrick spoke without any sort of inflection to his words, but Dorian understood anyway. But out of all the men at the table, Patrick was the one he wished to hear about the least. Certainly not after he had just gotten into yet another fight with Mary.

Xander tried to diffuse the situation. “So, Davenport. Let me introduce Aaron to you. He is the Duke of Harper. He does not go out much, but we managed to convince him to join us today.”

Dorian shook his head in a nod when Rhysand moved to deal him in, easing back in his chair. He could tell why he had not seen Harper around White’s. The man sported a big scar along the right side of his face, and Dorian tried not to stare too much. He shifted his attention elsewhere. The hands in front of him moved; cards were slid across the table as one round faded into another. He knew that they were giving him sideways glances from time to time, but he was still attempting to process everything.

Or, rather, he was—until Patrick started to press the issue once more.

“When you return home, you would do me such a great favor if you could relay my well wishes to your sister,” Patrick said happily. “I do hope that she is in good health?”

Normally, Dorian would simply tell him to ask her himself, but that was the last thing he wanted.

“I shall consider it.”

“Oh, come off it, Davenport,” Xander interjected with a sigh. “Let the man be smitten.”

That was the entire heart of the issue, in his opinion. He had been watching Mary pine after the man relentlessly. She and Cordelia spoke of him at every tea and meal. Mary was constantly humming around the house as she played with Georgie. However, it was when Georgie himself started to ask more questions about Patrick that made Dorian realize the seriousness of the situation. His sister was falling for Patrick Hislop, and Dorian was unsure what that would mean.

Mary deserved nothing but the best. No matter how they argued or any sibling spat they might have had—it was his duty to protect her. The very same duty that he had failed in before and he was not the sort of man who was simply going to repeat such a huge mistake by being anything less than diligent. If Patrick expected Dorian to consent to this marriage, then he was going to need to earn his approval.

“It is my duty to do everything in my power to ensure that my sister is well taken care of,” Dorian answered flatly.

Patrick’s brow arched. “Are you accusing me of something, Your Grace?”

Dorian finished off his third glass and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Are you telling me that I should not be concerned? That you only have my sister’s best interests at heart?”

“I could! Because it is the truth!”

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