No Duke Will Do - Eva Devon Page 0,51
a man who caused such pain and suffering in this world? After all, it was men like Heath who took her father’s money.
But it was her father, born to wealth and privilege, who had been the one to willingly go.
“Mama, no, that’s not what I wish to say.” Mary drew in a deep breath, trying to gather her courage to break her mother’s heart. “I wish to say—”
“Yes, dear, what is it?” her mother prompted kindly.
But as she looked into her mother’s face, the words died on her lips and her mouth dried, turning to sand. “Nothing, Mama, nothing at all.”
Her mother cocked her silvering head to the side. “Well, my dear, whenever you wish to speak of this again, I’m happy to listen. But I do hope it will soon be of wedding plans. I cannot wait to plan the affair. Do you think we shall have it at Westminster? Or do you think we should try for St. Paul’s?”
Mary looked away.
She’d made a terrible mistake.
Not marrying Heath, of course, but marrying him in secret.
They never should have made this a secret. The world seemed to crumble around her as all her perfect happiness slipped away.
She thought she’d been having a grand adventure, but it was a lie. That grand adventure had just been meant to keep her safe.
Now when it was time to confess, she found she could not.
So, ashamed of herself, she turned from her mother, who loved her dearly. She simply could not face disappointing her in this moment. Mary slipped from the room, her heart pounding, and she could scarce draw a breath.
How was she going to tell Heath?
How was she going to tell him that she did not yet have the courage to break the news to her mother? She did not know, but she would have to.
She slipped down the hall.
Her brother Robert had gone down to the country.
He was not here.
Perhaps she could tell him. Perhaps she could find the nerve to confess to him first. But it would have to wait until he was back. She knew that.
So she did the only thing she could. She wanted to seek the solace of Heath’s arms because he was the only person who could make her feel better in this world. She slipped out of the house, out to the streets, and down to a hackney coach.
She took it and raced back down to the gambling club, hoping he could give her some advice, any sort of advice.
She all but raced through the halls until she came to his rooms, and she burst in, needing him.
Heath stood by the fire, gazing into the flames as if they held all the answers to this strange world.
At the sound of her entrance, he turned to her, his eyes lighting. “You’ve told her, then,” Heath said.
Her whole body burned, dreading confessing the truth. “No,” she said. “I have not.”
He stilled. “You said you would.”
She licked her lips. “I tried, but she started speaking of me marrying the future Earl of Monteith, and I didn’t know how to tell her.”
He nodded slowly, but there was nothing comforting in his stance. “You didn’t know how to tell her you’d chosen a man like me, some scum from nowhere.”
She gasped at the pain coursing through him, a pain she’d never seen. “You’re not scum. Why would you say such a thing?”
He gave her a rueful stare. “Well, you couldn’t tell her, could you?”
She rushed in, “No, I didn’t know how to—”
“Mary,” he ground out. “I understand the difficulty of your situation. You chose someone who’s not from your society, who’s not from your way of life. You married down, and now you don’t know how to face it.”
“No,” she protested. Panic welled in her breast. She couldn’t understand what was happening. Why was he so. . . So, different? “That’s not true at all.”
“We can’t get an annulment,” he sighed. “There’s no way to turn our marriage back. But if you wish to live separately, I promise not to tell anyone. I’ll burn the marriage certificate. We can keep it a secret, and you can go on as if we—”
“What madness are you speaking?” she demanded, her voice nearly breaking. “Don’t say such cruel things. I love you.”
“You love me,” he agreed, his gaze hollow, unrelenting. “But you regret it. You regret marrying me. It was a vast mistake, and I’m sorry I even suggested we do it. I never should’ve whisked you away that morning. We were acting