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She loved him.
And the duke did not love her.
The thought had her torn between crying and throwing a tantrum. Was this truly it? Should she simply give up and leave? Suddenly, the words of Rathe’s mother floated back to her mind about the last time she and the duke had fought.
Hadn’t she allowed her fears to get the better of her that time? Would she allow the same thing to happen again?
No.
This time, she would not back down. This time, she would fight for him.
Squaring her shoulders, she quickly made her way downstairs. Teddy was already waiting for her outside the house, and she asked him hurriedly, “Could you take me to Rathe’s parents’ home?”
“Sure, but...are you going to skip classes then?”
“I’m a-afraid so. This is more important.” When they reached Warren and Alyssa’s mansion and were asked to identify themselves at the gates, Mary nervously wondered if they would be allowed to enter.
If they weren’t, she would just find another way to talk to Alyssa, Mary told herself.
Fortunately, the automatic gates swung open a minute after, and Rathe’s chauffeur drove them through the winding path leading to the Wellesleys’ palatial home.
As they came nearer the front door, Mary gulped at the sight of the former duke waiting by the steps.
Warren kept his face expressionless as he watched the bodyguard assist Rathe’s young mistress out of the car. Looking at her, it was easy to understand the attraction she presented in his son’s eyes. She was a shapely little thing, and her inherent air of feminine grace was one most women nowadays lacked.
As the girl came to face him, Warren became uneasy when he noticed the dark bags underlining her eyes. She had become much thinner, too, her curves practically swallowed by her uniform.
Ever since their first meeting, Alyssa had been endlessly harping on him about giving this girl a chance. Although he had found himself considering the thought, last month’s events had served to strengthened his resolve not to accept Mary Ashton.
She might very well be a nice girl like Alyssa said, but at the end of the day, she was only going to cause his son to suffer his entire life. That was something Warren would never stand for, not even if he had to play the villain in everyone’s eyes.
“My lord,” Mary said quietly as she curtsied.
Warren nodded. “Miss Ashton.”
Mary swallowed, knowing the formal address was an indirect but pointed reminder that Rathe’s father did not consider her as even a close friend of the family.
But then, she really couldn’t be called that, could she? She had to remember that her love for Rathe did not erase the fact that she was only Rathe’s mistress.
“Is there something I may do for you?”
Clearing her throat, she asked, “I was wondering if I may speak with your wife, milord?”
An imposing frown furrowed Warren’s forehead. “May I ask what your business with her is?”
She hesitated. “A p-private one, sir.”
His said sharply, “My wife and I keep no secrets from each other.”
“I’m a-aware of that, but I would just r-rather speak to milady about it.” She knew he was trying to intimidate her. It was working, but even so, she forced herself to stand her ground.
Warren was grudgingly impressed at the way the girl was standing up to him. Deciding to change tactics, he deliberately opted for a brusque tone as he said, “You do know you have a lot to do with the trouble my family is facing?”
Warren’s question had the girl paling. He thought he had finally scared her off for good until she lifted her chin and said, “I know.”
Warren was stunned at the strength underlying the words.
“I know...I’m t-the last girl in the world that the duke should love.” Mary’s voice shook as she spoke the unbearable truth of her relationship with Rathe. “I know, t-that because of me, h-he m-may be made the butt of j-jokes forever. That people w-will always think he took a-advantage of me.”
