“Patience!” Nicholas roared from the other side of the door, but she was already far enough away that the sound was muffled.
Whenever he said her name in that exasperated way, she liked to pretend her brother was reminding himself to be patient with her. She threw her arms out and turned around once, enjoying the sense of freedom. She would take in as much sun as possible today. Warmth was life, and she had seen little of it since Papa had passed away.
Ollie jogged to her side, happy that she had returned so quickly.
The sound of the door being violently forced open caused her to turn around. Nicholas was livid. His face had gone red, and his nostrils flared.
How unbecoming of him.
If she were any other person, she would be scared. Her brother was tall and thick and very used to having his own way.
“Did you just shut the door on me?”
“I did just shut the door. It is hard to say exactly if I shut it on you. I thought you were headed to your study.”
Oh dear, now his eyebrows were raising. He stomped in her direction, but Patience stood her ground. He might be over a foot taller than she, but he was still her brother, and he would never harm her. Question her judgment at practically every turn, yes, but never harm her.
“You will be entering society in two months,” he said. “You aren’t nearly as young as most of the debutantes, and yet you still act as if you were a child. Traipsing about, not caring about the extra workload you put on the servants, with not a care for authority.”
“Your authority?” She tried not to laugh. Nicholas was only three years her senior. At twenty-three, he was one of the youngest noblemen sitting at parliament. She doubted many of his peers took him very seriously.
“Yes, my authority. I’m the Duke of Harrington. All of England accepts my authority.”
She raised one eyebrow.
His reaction was instantaneous. All of his bluster was gone. His shoulders sank, and his hand went back over his eyes. After a moment of silence, his hand dropped to his side. “I’m not fooling anyone. I can’t even get my sister to listen to me.” He turned on his heel, leaving her in the garden.
Ollie pushed at her thigh, hoping she would run with him again, but she had lost all her desire to play. She had won; Nicholas had left her alone. So why did it feel like defeat?
Patience groaned and sprang forward to catch up with him. The pebbles on the path crunched beneath her feet. She clasped her brother’s warm hand and pulled him to a stop.
“Stay with me for a while. Let the sun warm your clothing, at least, before you go back inside to look over papers.”
His hand tightened around hers, and he turned to face her. “I can’t.”
“Not even for a minute?”
“I don’t expect you to understand. You are a lady born of privilege. You don’t have to worry about stains or tears on your dress; the servants will fix them. You’ve never had anyone rely on you or had any work to do, and you will go from living a life of privilege here to a life of privilege in your husband’s household. Just like Mother. Go.” He squeezed her fingers once and then let them go. “Play in the sun. Who knows how long it will last? You are one of the few people in England who doesn’t really have to grow up if you don’t want to.”
Play in the sun? The heat of the day was nothing compared to the heat that burst into her chest. Did her brother really think so little of her? For something she had absolutely no control over? The fact that she was a woman? And her station in life? Other than her wild curls and broad mouth, she was nothing like Mama. Patience had been here for every minute of their two-year mourning period, agreeing with Nicholas that they should extend their mourning in response to Mama’s lack of propriety. Mama hadn’t lasted a month. Just because Patience chose to be cheerful at times didn’t mean she couldn’t be appropriately sorrowful when occasion called for it.
“You were born to just as much privilege as I was, Nicholas. More even.”
He stood tall. A gleam in his eye told her he was anxious for a confrontation.
“Yes, but I like to believe my time in the army cured me of any frivolousness, just as Father had hoped it would. You will have no such opportunity.”
“So you have given up on me being a decent person?” The sun no longer felt bright or warming. How could her brother think such terrible things of her?
“I’ve given up on teaching you to be one. You will be whatever person you decide to be. I have no control over it.”
“Am I so bad that I need to be changed completely?” Her voice quivered, and she tried to regain the anger she had felt before. She knew she disappointed her brother often enough, but she hadn’t known it was to this extent.
Nicholas shrugged his shoulders. “It isn’t that you are bad. It’s just that I see in you the potential to be so much more, if only society weren’t so bent on you being a lady of leisure. I know because I was the same. I wouldn’t trade my time in the army for anything in the world. My only regret is not seeing Father more during those years. But there is nothing like that for you, and I wish there was. I’ve often wondered if Mother would have been different if she’d had the opportunity to work, even for a few months.”
Patience breathed in slowly through her nose. He was lashing out at Mama, not her. “Nicholas, we both know I am not Mama.” Mama had returned home refreshed and happy after her time in France. Ready to plan every aspect of Patience’s coming out three or four times over. She never mentioned Papa or apologized for leaving her children when they needed her the most.
Nicholas scraped the toe of his shoe on the ground and then looked up with a wan smile. “No, of course you’re not.” He smiled, but it was forced. She knew that smile; it was the one he wore every time Mama walked into the room. There was no happiness behind it. “The sun is nice today. Thank you for getting me out of my study. Even if it was only for a moment. I won’t disturb you again.”
He carefully opened the door and let himself back in. Patience was left alone. The sun still warmed her back, but her heart had gone cold. Her brother had just given up on her. She had seen him do the same with Mama. He never spoke to Mama unless she directly asked him a question, and even then it was only short answers. Patience was a disappointment and would remain a disappointment for the rest of her life. Her chest tightened, but she shook it off.
Stomping forward, she threw open the door. “I could learn, Nicholas. I don’t always have to be this way.”
Sometimes she was serious. She didn’t necessarily like it much. After all, Nicholas’s seriousness had brought him no joy as far as she could tell.
Nicholas was still in the kitchen, one hand on the countertop, head bent low. “No, Patience. I’ve been much too lenient while Mama was gone. And you know what? It doesn’t matter. You don’t need to behave the way I want you to. You will be a much happier person than I, never knowing that there is a dark world outside that would eat you up in a single sunshine-filled afternoon. Look at Mother. She hasn’t stopped singing since she came home.” A high, jaunty note wafted in from the music room as if to prove his point. Patience couldn’t make out the song, but it was not the melancholy tune one would expect from a widow.