Loving a Noble Gentleman: A Historical Regency Romance Book

“Yes, I know ...” Edmund started, but Iris was not about to let him finish that thought.

“I know you did not do anything wrong, but Mary does not. You also need to think that while you say Mary did not like you at first, just as you did not her, you still went to a ball in the middle of courting her. That might hurt her feelings even if the rest of it does not. You shall have to be sensitive and kind when you do go to see her.” She loosened her grip on him and allowed him to step away. “So just take some time, have a few moments to calm down. Then take a carriage to see her.”

Edmund knew that his mother was right. Caving to the temptation to rush in to see Mary while he was such a mess simply because he felt impatient would not do anyone any favours. He really did need her to listen to him when he went to see her, or he would end up losing her.

How ironic; he went to the ball to try and find someone else that he would want to marry instead of Mary, and now the fact that he had was threatening the only thing that he had ever wanted.

“Yes, Mother, I see,” he said sadly. “I shall do what you say. I will take some time.”

As Iris watched him walk away, she hated the helpless sensation that overcame her. All that she wanted to do was help, but this was mostly out of her control. All that she could do was wait and hope that her son did the right thing.

***

Mary had not moved from her seat on the edge of her bed ever since she had heard the news. An ice-cold numbness encased her; she did not know what she felt or where to even begin processing the information.

“Lady Roberts?” Daisy asked carefully as she stepped into her bedroom. She could feel the thick tension in the air before she even entered the room. “Chef has sent me up here with a plate of food. I do not know if you are hungry ...”

Her words trailed off as Mary turned to face her with agony in her eyes. She had never seen someone look at her with so much pain; it literally floored her. Granted, she had not seen much of Mary when her father died, but still ... this felt like it was on another level.

“I do not know what to do, Daisy,” Mary gushed desperately. “What am I supposed to do?”

Daisy already knew what the Lady was talking about; it had been the gossip of the staff that actually led Mary to finding out about the other woman. One of the kitchen staff had a sister who worked for the Hartmon home, so the information had come directly from the source.

Still, knowing did not help her with what to say next.

“I am terribly sorry, Lady Roberts; no one could have suspected that His Grace would behave in such a manner.”

Mary glanced down at the floor. She knew that Edmund could behave in such a way; she knew very well that he was capable of it. After all, he had kissed her without being her husband. Her heart fell to her feet as she considered that might not have been the act of love that she once assumed. It had been that way for her, but clearly not for him.

Maybe she did not know him at all. She had been so desperate to like him because it helped her and everyone around her that she had ignored everything that might tell her he was not a good person after all. Maybe there had been signs all along; maybe there were many times that she should have known, but she chose to ignore them.

“What do I do, Daisy? What am I supposed to do? I am supposed to marry the man who has ruined the reputation of another woman. Who has ...” She stopped herself at the last moment before she added ‘has ruined me too’. That was far too humiliating to admit.

“I am sure this is a good enough reason not to marry him,” Daisy said quietly. In all honesty, she had no idea how the silly rules of the upper classes worked. If a man had done something to humiliate her, she would show him where the door was without a second thought, but then she did not have a title or expectations to hold her back. “Maybe you need to send out word to Mr Thompson. You shall need to speak with him to see what you can do next.”

Again, this was something that Daisy did not fully understand, but she had seen enough meetings to know a little.

“Yes, you are right,” Mary agreed with a nod. It felt very overwhelming to consider bringing Walter into this mess, but that was what she had to do. He was in charge of the will and the inheritance. Maybe now things could change. “I shall send word to him immediately. Ask him to come to meet with me.”

Maybe it should have been surprising that he had not come of his own accord, but then again, there was a chance that he did not think it a big deal. Men did not quite view things in the same way that women did, as far as Mary knew.

She grabbed some of the bread off the plate that Daisy had given to her and took a bite from it. As she chewed, it felt like sawdust in her mouth. All of this had completely zapped her of her appetite, but she forced it down regardless. She was going to need her energy if she was going to make it through what had to come next.

“I shall write the letter now,” she said with a half smile. “The sooner I get this started, the sooner it will be over.”

Mary did not like the dream that she had built up in her mind to die. She had spent the last few days dreaming about kisses, wedding dresses, married life ... now all of that was done. She could not marry a man who thought it acceptable to kiss other women; it was not right. She deserved so much better.

“Lady Roberts?” The butler stood at the door to Mary’s room with a serious expression. “There is a gentleman at the door to speak with you.”

“Oh good.” She smiled at Daisy, satisfaction racing through her system. At least this was something. “That should be Mr Thompson now. It will be easier to speak with him face to face ...”

“Oh no,” the butler felt compelled to interrupt before Mary got too far with her thought. “I am sorry, I was not specific. It is not Mr Thompson at the door.”

“No? Then who is it?”

Mary felt panicked and sick; her heart raced. This could not be good; she did not want to deal with visitors. Somehow, she just knew that this would be to do with Lady Victoria Hartmon, and she was not sure that she was quite ready for it yet.

“It is His Grace, Duke Smith,” he replied. “He says that it is of utter urgency that he speaks with you right away.”

Mary’s head span; she felt unsteady on her feet. Daisy grabbed onto her arm in an attempt to keep her upright. Maybe it was silly to assume that he would never come, but Mary thought that he would be far too embarrassed to do so.

“The Duke,” she gasped. “I have to speak to him. I do not know if I can.”





Chapter 16


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