He nodded. “I have known such men. Some are even vicars. And I assure you that you were not the only innocent to whom he made such promises.”
“Indeed.” The duke’s one gravelly word spoke volumes.
Mary looked down again. “I did not know what to do. So I fled. I sought refuge with friends, and that is where Beth—the duchess—and my brother found me. Where Mina was born. Where I began to realize what a true family is.” She looked at the duchess, who squeezed one of Mary’s hands. “And where we created this story in an attempt to protect my reputation because I so wanted a season in London.” Her lower lip quivered and she chewed it.
“Do you still wish to have a season?”
Lady Mary looked up at Thad, her eyes pensive. “Perhaps. At first.” She finally released a long sigh. “But I do not know anymore. The more I have cared for Mina, the more the luster of attending soirees and flitting about ballrooms has waned. And even if I wanted to, I am no longer sure it is possible. The first invitations for the season’s balls have gone out, and we have received none.”
“Do you know how the rumors started?”
Lady Mary glanced up at her brother again, and the duke mumbled, a growly threat that made Thad even more wary of the man. “I should have shot him when I had the chance.”
Recognition flooded over Thad. “The vicar.”
The duke snarled. “I assured him I would make his life a living hell if he ever spoke of this, but that apparently landed on deaf ears.”
“Drunken ears, more likely,” muttered the duchess.
Thad pushed down a smile. “So are you in the process of making his life a living hell?”
The duke’s mouth quirked. “The Duke of Kennet and I had a chat with the archbishop. The vicar is currently being reassigned to a parish in Shetland, with an associate who is to send monthly reports on the vicar’s behavior to the archbishop.”
“A spy,” whispered Lady Mary, a new gleam in her eye.
The duchess sat a little straighter. “Lord Thaddeus, there is something else you should know. Our departure date for India has been moved up. We are now due to board our ship on the seventh of May. We realize this falls within the two-week period you requested in your amendment, but it is not a date that can be changed. We realize that this may put your marriage to Lady Mary at risk, but we are hoping to find a solution that is amicable for all parties.”
Thad almost laughed. “Has Lady Mary explained what happened in the park today?”
The duke and duchess looked confused, and Lady Mary shook her head slightly. “There has been no time.”
“Ah. Then you should know that I announced to a gathering of several people that Lady Mary is my betrothed. I am sure the news is halfway around thetonby now. So I have already violated one clause of the amendment, that we were to keep the matter private for those two weeks. And in the brief amount of time since we were first introduced, I have grown rather fond of Lady Mary. I am still amenable to marrying her, if she feels likewise. If we need to make special arrangements to make that happen before you depart, I am willing to listen to your ideas.”
Chapter Nine
Friday, 28 April 1826
Kirkstone House
Five in the afternoon
Mary watched LordThaddeus Bolton from under half-lidded eyes as he and her brother took over the conversation, batting around words like “special license” and “archbishop.” Once again, no choice that lay before them was hers.
Rather fond, he said. He had grownrather fondof her.
After two days. Two conversations. When he supposedly remained in love with another woman.
A roiling ire began to build in her gut.
It was one thing to barter to marry a stranger, to accept an attachment based on financial and circumstantial reasons. Quite another to have someone proclaim an attachment based on emotions. What kind of man becomes enamored after two days? Did he or did he not still love that other woman?
“No wonder you are so deep in debt!” The room went silent as Mary stood and strode to the door as Lord Thaddeus scrambled to his feet. She paused as she reached for the doorknob. “Do you impetuously jump at every opportunity, nomatter how risky it is? To leap without investigating? To plunge willy-nilly into everything, just because your heart—” Her voice broke, and Mary ran, her heels thudding on the carpet as she passed the staircase and dodged down a side corridor. She pulled open the heavy, glass-paned door at the end and burst into the small garden at the back of Kirkstone House.
She trotted down the four stone steps from to the gravel path that wound through the foliage, taking in deep gasps of air. Tears flooded down her cheeks as the tension from the last week, the loss of control, the fear of losing her child overwhelmed her. Sobs shook her shoulders as she sank down on a stone bench beneath a tall yew tree and covered her face with her hands.
“Lady Mary?”
She jerked straight, glaring at him. Red blotches shaded his cheeks, and his carefully coiffed hair had gone all awry, the curls on the end of the strands protruding in every direction. Mary wiped her eyes, feeling the tears soak through her gloves, then swallowed hard.
