The Duchess War (Brothers Sinister #1)

He could do his best to quash the investigation—and leave his brother under a cloud of suspicion. Or he could speak. When speaking had entailed taking all the scandal on himself, there had been no question. But now he would have to explain how it was that His Grace, the Duke of Clermont, came to quote from an obscure volume of chess strategy.

He’d promised Minnie that he would protect her secrets. He’d promised his brother that he would see him free and clear. He could not do both those things.

Some devil in him made him imagine precisely how Minnie would react to hearing him admit the truth. It was even worse than anything he could imagine doing to her—putting her in a courtroom, watching someone she cared for give her up without hesitation. He couldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t.

But Oliver… Oliver was his brother. The man who had accepted him without question, despite the fact that his father had done nothing but harm to his family. He was his brother. His brother, the only thing he had known of family for years.

That image in his head of the courtroom—of Minnie turning white as he betrayed her—played itself over and over in his mind. The worse it was for her, the more it would strengthen the public belief that he spoke the truth. It made Robert feel ill to think of it. It would utterly destroy their marriage. She really would leave him—and he wouldn’t even be able to voice a protest.

Because she would be right. He would deserve it.

Robert walked on the streets a very long time, until his feet ached and his hands turned to ice, until he could scarcely think for the turmoil in his head. He walked, and he decided.

Chapter Twenty-four

WHEN HE FINALLY RETURNED TO HIS HOME, he was sure Minnie would see what he intended to do. She’d seen everything else about him so easily. But she was waiting for him with tea and a late supper, and whatever she saw in his expression, she must have attributed to unhappiness over his brother’s situation.

“I don’t think a conviction will stick,” Robert told her over a warm cup.

“That sounds like good news.”

He held his hand out, let it wobble from side to side. “It’s not the worst news. There’s not enough evidence to convict him, but there…there may not be enough to vindicate him, either. Not unless I explain my involvement.”

“And will you do it?”

He paused and looked her in the eyes. “This no longer just involves me.”

She looked up at him. When had she begun to trust him? Why had he let her?

“Who else does it involve?” she asked.

“My mother, for one.” He shut his eyes, not able to look at her as he told the first lie. “If I explain everything, I must publicly disclose my relation to Oliver. The truth would embarrass my mother—he was conceived scarcely a few months after her marriage—and it would humiliate Oliver’s parents. Oliver himself…well, it wouldn’t hurt him to be known as a duke’s son.”

“I see,” she said slowly.

“It’s worse than you think. You see, it’s no longer about the trial itself, but the public account of it. If I just asserted that he was my brother, some people would always believe that I said it just to save him from the conviction for the sake of friendship. He’d not be exonerated. But…imagine that, for the sake of verisimilitude, I was to announce the truth of his parentage with my mother in the room. How do you suppose she might react?”

“I… Well. The duchess—dowager duchess, I mean—she’s strong as flint. But just as brittle.”

“She would probably turn white. She might stand up and leave. And that reaction, more than anything, would give the assertion the stamp of veracity. I could drive her into reacting.” He looked over at her. “It would humiliate her, but it might save my brother.”

“Perhaps, if she knows it’s coming—”

“When she knows what is coming, she can steel herself not to react. If she knew it was coming, likely she wouldn’t even attend.” He looked at her. “I am sure that I can convincingly make the case for Oliver’s innocence. But to do it, I might have to sacrifice—forever—any peace I might make with my mother. Tell me, Minnie. Is it worth it?”

She was silent for a long time, looking in his eyes. He buried the truth deep, deep, so that she would not hear what he had not said.

“And you’d do that?” she finally asked. “Lose all hope of your mother, for your brother’s sake?”

“My father—” The words came out hoarsely. He shut his eyes. It was his only chance to explain it to her, even if she did not yet know what she was hearing.

“No,” she said. “You don’t have to answer. On the scale of things, we are weighing your mother’s humiliation against your brother’s future. Your brother must come first.”