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)
Mary felt herself losing color. Forcing the words through bloodless lips, she said unevenly, “Go on.” When the duke didn’t answer, she released a humorless laugh, and a self-mocking note entered her voice as she said, “Don’t be shy now.”
Hearing his own jibe thrown back at him made Rathe flinch. Goddammit, what was happening to them? “Mary—-”
Mary screamed, “Say it!”
Tears silently started to run down her cheeks. Oh God, how did it come to this? She had only wanted to hear his voice, so why did it end like this?
Mary’s scream proved to be the last straw, pushing him over the edge. His temper exploded, and Rathe said savagely, “A woman. That’s what I wanted to say,” he snarled. “That she was not a girl, not a child – that she was nothing like you. With a woman like Camilla, I can expect her to understand—-” He stopped speaking the moment Mary ended the call.
Rathe threw the phone across the room, and the device smashed against the wall.
Fuck.
His fist slammed against the desk, breaking against the sheet of glass that covered it.
Fuck.
Was this really the fucking end for them?
Chapter Nine
After taking a shower and changing into her uniform, Mary slowly walked to her desk and gazed down at her calendar. It had become a ritual of sorts, ever since Rathe had left for London.
Forty-three days, Mary counted numbly. It had been over six weeks since she had last seen Rathe, five weeks since their violent argument over the phone. She had not tried to call him since then, and he had not tried to call her either. It was a stand-off, something Mary knew she was bound to lose because of one essential thing.
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.