“Marriage to me precludes none of that.” Said patiently, as if the veriest dolt should understand the liberties a married woman enjoyed. “As your sister, however, the lady was made to endure each of those penances, will she, nill she. Her ladyship has told me about the child. What have you done to aid her to find her daughter?”

Quinn was so absorbed watching the cat lick its paw, all the while perched on Rothhaven’s shoulder, that the question nearly eluded his notice.

“Find her daughter? The point of the exercise, Rothhaven, was to ensure that the child never became a source of worry or embarrassment. Matters were dealt with appropriately, and Constance resumed the normal life of a young woman anticipating a bright future.” That much, at least, Quinn had been able to do for his sister.

Rothhaven took up his teacup, sipped placidly, put the cup down, as if every proper duke took tea with a cat sitting on his shoulder.

“Constance has been using her pin money for years to hire investigators. Because you insisted she dredge up her past for my benefit, I assumed you knew this. Am I mistaken?”

When had Quinn lost control of this conversation?

“You are mistaken.” While Quinn was reeling. This Duke of Fits and Faints, this interloper who claimed to have met Constance years ago, was privy to a secret Constance had kept to herself for years?

“She’s hired investigators? Without telling me? Why wouldn’t she tell me? Why not seek my aid? I’m a bloody duke, for God’s sake.”

“A bloody duke—now—and a bloody banker then. Would the idle and titled of the realm have entrusted their fortunes to you if it became known you couldn’t even keep your sister safe? The blighter dallied with her for weeks while you were away in service to mammon. Then too, what if you’d said no? You refuse to lend coin to some of the most powerful families in the land when they are facing utter ruin, and your reputation for dealing exclusively in logic rather than sentiment precedes you. Had you known of Constance’s search and disagreed with its objectives, you could have thwarted her easily. Your forbidding nature aside, I suspect the whole business came down to Constance not wanting her past to reflect poorly on you or her other siblings.”

Quinn didn’t bother taking offense at Rothhaven’s observation, for Quinn had failed to keep Constance safe.

“You are saying that Constance has been trying to protect me with her discretion? Trying to spare me from gossip?”

“From gossip, and—siblings are ever so well intended at the worst times—guilt, would be my guess.”

Rothhaven sat there swilling his tea, as placid as a dowager at her tatting, while Quinn wanted to…What he wanted was to turn the clock back fifteen years and be a better brother to his siblings.