Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
But now, with the way Warren was treating Mary, and with the knowledge of the revolting pre-nuptial contract that existed between his parents...
He was no longer sure about what to believe.
Rathe asked tersely, “Why, Father? Why did you make her sign such a contract?”
Alyssa sucked her breath at the question.
When Warren saw his wife about to speak, he shook his head. To have Alyssa defend him for a mistake he blamed himself for would never be something he’d stand for.
For a moment, words failed Warren as he gazed at his son. He despised the way Rathe made him feel defensive and guilty – feelings that he had done his very best to avoid. To feel such emotions would almost be an admission that what he had with Alyssa was wrong, and that was something Warren would never accept.
Not even if it was for his son’s sake.
Taking hold of his wife’s hand, Warren said flatly, “It’s none of your business—-”
Rathe snarled, “It is my business since it has to do with how my father could have disrespected my mother in such a way.”
Livid at the insinuation, Warren roared, “You know nothing!”
“Obviously,” Rathe retorted sarcastically. “Because whatever your faults were, I had always thought you loved my mother. But now, it’s so bloody clearer.” His father’s unwillingness to discuss the contract made his supposed love for Alyssa a lie, and it only meant one thing. Warren Wellesley might not be a pedophile in the entire sense, but he was the next worst thing – someone who had made a teenager his wife because of his most basic needs.
****
On the ride home, Rathe was grimly silent, a cold and distant air about him.
It reminded Mary of the one time he had shut her out of his life.
Then, he had done it to protect himself from developing more feelings for her.
And he was doing it again now.
Whatever thoughts were running in his mind now, they made the duke feel...defenseless, which in turn made Rathe shut himself off.
Then, she had allowed him to do just that.
Now, she was not going to stand for it.
Now, because she knew him so much better, because she loved him so much more, she wouldn’t let him suffer the pain alone. Even knowing that he was more likely to reject any offer of comfort, Mary couldn’t take it. It was impossible for her to do nothing, not when her instincts warned Mary of how every second of silence that passed made Rathe feel...alone. And unloved.
Deciding to take matters in her own hands, she closed her eyes for a moment, praying for the strength to love the duke the way he deserved to be loved.
When she opened her eyes, the first thing she did was to press the button for the glass partition in the limousine to slowly slide down, creating a semblance of privacy for them.
Afterwards, she scooted to his side. “Rathe?”
His head turned towards her immediately, and she swallowed at the look on his face. This was not her Rathe. This was the Duke of Flanders, and his gaze made Mary feel like she had to apologize for having even the temerity to say his name.
“What is it?”
She swallowed convulsively. Mary usually found his British accent sexy, but not right now. Not when it felt like each syllable dripped with disdain. Even so, she forced herself to continue, stumbling all over the words as she asked, “D-do you want to talk about what happened?”
His shoulders lifted in a dismissive shrug. “There’s nothing to discuss.”
Frustration weighed down on her. “Rathe...”
Without looking at her, Rathe said under his breath, “I just need...time.” Saying the words almost made him want to laugh. Time. What a bloody irony. Time was in fact the opponent here, time the reason why he and Mary would never be.
If only he and Mary had been born at the same time, none of this would mean a thing. But no, sixteen long bloody years separated them. Such a bloody long time, the kind that could have made him Mary’s own blasted father if fate had been so cruel.
Even now, Rathe’s mind reeled at what he had discovered, a part of him unable to reconcile the truth with what he had erroneously believed all his life. Was lust really the only thing that made Warren choose Alyssa? If so, didn’t that mean his father was a pedophile? If so, didn’t that make what he had with Mary so bloody wrong as well?
His mother had already sacrificed so much just by choosing to be a wife to Warren and a mother to Rathe. Wouldn’t his relationship with Mary make Alyssa a subject of rumors once more?
“Rathe, please look at me.” Mary’s voice was a faint whisper. She sounded like she was begging for his attention, and it wasn’t right. Hadn’t he promised himself he wouldn’t make Mary cry again?