Page 10

Oliver felt a prickle of concern at his friend's words. He folded his arms over his chest.

"Mistreated? In what way?"

"Hard to say," Alexander replied. "My aunt only mentioned it in passing, something about one girl who claimed the Mother Superior there was more interested in securing wealthy husbands for her wards than in their spiritual well-being.

That, and a few hints of harsh punishments used to keep the girls in line.

Could be idle gossip, of course. But it stuck in my mind. "

A muscle in Oliver's jaw twitched. Harsh punishments. Wealthy husbands. He recalled the night after their wedding, when she had looked at him and asked if he wished her to provide him with an heir straight away.

If what Alexander was saying was true, then perhaps it offered some explanation to what occurred that way.

What had they taught this poor girl? That her sole purpose was to bear sons as quickly as possible?

"Is something the matter?" Alexander said when Oliver had been quiet for too long.

"I'm thinking that perhaps those whispers are not entirely baseless," Oliver ran a hand through his hair. "She did exhibit some odd notions. Things that now make sense if she was, as you say, kept under extremely strict control."

Alexander's expression grew sympathetic.

"I'm sorry to hear it. She seemed innocent, from what little I saw at the wedding. Not the sort of girl to scheme or manipulate; if anything, she looked frightened that day," Alexander offered.

"If it is true, then I need to do the right thing by her."

"You've done right by her so far," Alexander replied, "You married her and gave her your protection. That is no small thing."

"Protection is more than a ring and a title," Oliver muttered, almost to himself. "I must speak with Theodore."

"Now?" Alexander asked.

"Well, now is as good as a time as ever.

Oliver said his farewell and walked briskly toward the main house, leaving Alexander to pack up the sparring equipment.

Oliver found Theodore in the small library off the main hall. He was startled visibly when Oliver entered, spinning around to face him.

"Oliver," Theodore stammered, eyes wide in surprise. "I didn't hear you come in."

"I imagine not," Oliver replied, closing the library door firmly behind him. "You've been quite determined not to hear or see me for days now."

"If you've come to lecture me again…"

"I've come to do far more than lecture," Oliver cut him off. He advanced a few steps into the room. "We need to speak about the Duchess."

At 'the name, Theodore shifted uncomfortably. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly agitated.

"I suppose we do," he muttered. "Though I doubt she wishes to speak with me."

"Did you expect her to? After the disgrace you nearly caused her? Still, whether she wishes it or not, you owe her a great deal, starting with a sincere apology."

"I know I behaved badly. I just thought it might be easier for everyone if I kept my distance. She's your wife now. Perhaps it's best I'm not around to upset her,"

"You cannot simply vanish and hope time absolves you. You must apologize to her, in the least," Oliver said, sternly.

"What good will it do?" Theodore burst out, eyes flashing. "You've already swept in like a savior and made everything right, haven't you? She's a duchess now and her reputation is secured. Why drag up the past?"

Oliver tried his hardest to keep calm.

"The past is not ‘dragged up', it's sitting right here in this house," he said, "in the form of a young woman who was nearly ruined and is now bound to us for life."

Theodore's shoulders slumped.

"Fine. If it will make you content, I'll apologize to her. But you have not yet shown any acceptance of the thing that I wish for the most."

"""'""""'""'""'"""'"""""""'''""""""'''""''"""'Oliver regarded his brother with a disdainful look.

"What you ask for is a ridiculous thing," Oliver replied. "And I have already made my position on the matter quite clear."

"This fiasco with Lady Alethea is over," Theodore argued. "There is no reason for me to not marry the person I wish to now."

"You think because I stepped in, it all simply vanishes?

" Oliver asked. "You nearly ruined one young woman.

I will not allow you to charge into another entanglement while showing so little regard for the consequences.

Nor will I allow you to marry a widow, when you yourself are so young and full of bright prospects. "

Theodore squared his jaw. "Are you planning to forbid it, brother?"

"If necessary, yes," Oliver answered. "Until you prove that you understand honor and responsibility, I cannot in good conscience bless your union with Lady Joyce. Nor will her family countenance it if I, as head of our family, withhold my support."

"You mean to punish me forever? Keep me from Joyce to teach me a lesson?" Theodore was fuming now.

"This is not punishment for its own sake. It's ensuring you do not compound one mistake with another," Oliver offered.

He knew that his brother had a lot of growing up left to do, and in time, he would come to see the ridiculousness of his own ways.

"I will not stand for it. All my life you've lorded your precious sense of duty over me. When will you realize that I am not a child anymore?"

"When you stop behaving as one," Oliver said, simply. "Start acting like a man who understands what his reckless actions cost others."

They stood facing each other.

"You know what, Brother?" Theodore took a step backwards. "Do as you please with your approval. Joyce and I will be happy without them."

He pushed past Oliver then, striding toward the door .

"I am not done speaking with you," he called out.

"But I am," Theodore paused only to throw a final look over his shoulder.

With that, he yanked the door open and stormed out. Oliver stood in the sudden silence, pulse pounding in his ears. He realized his hands were balled into fists at his sides. Taking a long breath, he unclenched them slowly.

The confrontation had not gone as he'd hoped. Instead of clarity, it had ended a fresh rift between the two of them.

If anything, it had given Oliver more to worry about. If his brother's impulsiveness had caused havoc once, there was no telling what he might do next.

Still, Oliver knew he had been right to stand firm. He would not permit further dishonor.