“He must,” Evie said softly. “He would not have gone to such measures if he did not. It’s clear to me that you love each other.” She went back to the settee and sat. “Forgive me, Sabrina. It was far too easy for me to support a plan involving a courtesan, since that is what I know.”
Sabrina slowly made her way to the settee and sat beside Evie. “Are you saying—”
“That I used to be a courtesan.” Evie’s lips pulled into a sad smile. “I reinvented myself a couple of years ago as Mrs. Renshaw. I’ve never even been married.” She exhaled. “It feels good to unburden myself. I feel like a fraud every day, and it’s nice when I don’t have to around those I care about.”
“I’m honored that you would share the truth with me.”
“It’s a very short list—people I care about. I realize we haven’t been friends long, but I meant what I said about feeling a camaraderie with you. We have both taken unorthodox measures in the pursuit of happiness.”
Sabrina understood what she was saying, even if their measures were somewhat incomparable. She took Evie’s hand. “I feel the same closeness, and, of course, I forgive you.”
“Thank goodness.” Evie dashed her hand over her eyes, and Sabrina hugged her until they both laughed.
“I promise I’m not meddling,” Evie said after wiping her eyes again. “But you can’t go back to Hampton Lodge. Not now.”
“I know.” Sabrina stiffened her spine and lifted her chin. “It’s time I truly become the woman I want to be—not a dutiful countess or a courtesan tutor or even a biddable wife. I love my husband, and I want to be his partner.” They’d navigated all the pitfalls last night so wonderfully—together. Right up until the deception between them had pushed them apart.
It was time for honesty and confession, an absolute baring of souls. Sabrina only hoped he would join her. For if he didn’t, there was truly no hope.
Chapter 21
Arriving at the ducal residence, Constantine marched up the steps, eager for the coming interview. Bender admitted him inside, taking his hat and gloves, and Constantine went directly to his father’s study. The duke was seated behind his desk, as usual.
The fury Constantine felt at learning his father was behind Brightly’s expulsion from White’s intensified. He was angry about so many things, including the duke’s overall meddling and manipulation. “You’re despicable,” he muttered.
“What’s that?” the duke barked.
Constantine straightened. A righteous wrath pulsed through him. “I am done working to please you. That’s all I ever craved—to be the heir you wanted me to be, so you’d be proud. Every decision I made, every action I took was all to be the man I thought I had to be, the man you insisted I be.” The words poured out of him, bringing a clarity he’d never experienced. “Then, as I grew older, I wanted to be sure I would never be on the receiving end of your disappointment and disdain, as Lucien was. As he is. I should have stood up for him. I should have shown him that not everyone is a callous, cruel autocrat like you.”
“It seems I arrived at the perfect moment.” Lucien sauntered into the room wearing a smug smile, but there was something beneath the surface—a thrumming, dangerous energy that belied his good humor. There was also a faint bruise on his cheek from where Constantine had struck him the night before. “Don’t be hard on yourself, Con. If not for you pleasing the old man, it would have been much worse for all of us. I accepted long ago that our good son-bad son situation works to both our advantage.” He took a position next to Constantine, facing their father’s desk.
The duke stood, his jaw clenched in fury. If he was going to speak, he didn’t get a chance, for Constantine had warmed to his ire.
He folded his arms over his chest. “I hear you had Brightly expelled from White’s. I hope you’re happy with that because I’m going to withdraw my membership as soon as I leave here. If it’s not good enough for a man with as much integrity and generosity as Brightly, it certainly isn’t the place for me.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” The duke sputtered. “You can’t. You’re my heir.”
Constantine shrugged. “Your heir will simply frequent Brooks’s.”
Their father’s hands fisted at his sides, and his eyes narrowed with rage. “Travesty.”
“Or the Phoenix Club,” Lucien suggested cheerfully.
In that moment, Constantine decided he would accept the invitation. Not just to irritate his father, though that was an enormous benefit, but to support his brother. Though Constantine was still quite angry with him for his meddling, he knew it came from Lucien’s desire to help others. It was why he’d started the club with its particular purpose. It occurred to Constantine in that moment that there was likely a reason for Lucien’s actions. He’d always seemed to have friends in excess, popularity among everyone, and an uncanny ability to charm and woo. But what if he’d felt isolated and alone because of their father, and even because of Constantine? What if he helped others in an effort to help himself?
A wave of understanding washed over Constantine, taking his breath away. He had accountability in his father’s treatment of his brother, just as he did with his marriage. It was long past time he stepped out of his father’s shadow, that he be the man he wanted to be. A man who wasn’t dispassionate like their father. In fact, Constantine realized he was the opposite of that. He was passionate about his work, his racing, and, most of all, his wife.
“You can’t leave White’s,” the duke declared, slicing his hand through the air. “I forbid it. Furthermore, I forbid you from coming to fisticuffs as you did at that catastrophe of a ball last night!”
Constantine exchanged an incredulous look with Lucien, who said, “We aren’t children, Father.”
The duke narrowed his eyes at Lucien. “Then stop acting as if you are. I can expect this sort of embarrassing behavior from you, but from Aldington?” He swung his angry gaze to Constantine. “I expect better from you.”
“How sad that you don’t expect the same things from your sons. You should. We were both raised by you.” But the duke had treated them differently, and Constantine was only just beginning to see how much. “I realize this will be hard for you to comprehend, Father, but my decision to leave White’s is not up for debate. You have no control over me, and your tutelage, or whatever this lifelong management has been, is over. I am my own man now. I will vote for—or against—things in the manner I choose, and I will allow my butler and his wife to have a cat in my house.” The duke had admonished him for that later on during the ball. “And if I want to hit my brother when he behaves like you, I will.” He glanced toward Lucien who mouthed the word “Ouch.”
Constantine continued, “I will also encourage my wife to assist my sister in any way she sees fit. She may not be her formal sponsor, but she will be there at Cassandra’s side, steering her toward success and, more importantly, happiness.” Constantine hoped she would anyway. There was so much he needed to say to her.