by Marian Tee
Yanna paused for a moment. Constantijin had always accused her of blurting out her thoughts and that was one thing she didn’t want to do now. Mary seemed so young and gentle, she just didn’t want to risk hurting the other girl unintentionally with what she was about to say.
“I know it’s less than perfect between you guys now, but you have to believe me when I tell you...” Yanna impulsively squeezed Saffi’s hand. “I have never seen Rathe happier than when he’s with you.”
Mary’s eyes widened.
“It’s true,” Yanna insisted. “Normally, he’s like...he’s like a robot with an English accent.”
Mary choked.
“You know how dreadfully polite he can sound.” Yanna began to mimic Rathe’s ducal tones. “Is that so? Just a tad, mayhaps? How quaint. Quite frankly, my dear, you’re fucking ugly.”
Mary gasped. “He couldn’t have said the last!”
Yanna grinned. “You’re right, he didn’t, but if he did...”
They both burst into laughter.
“He’d totally sound like that, right?”
Mary nodded, still doubled over. When her laughter died, she saw that Yanna was still smiling at her, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. Her own smile faded. “Wh-what is it?”
“I really don’t know how to tell you this, so I’m just going to tell you it straight.” Yanna took a deep breath. “Since I work in marketing, I tend to be one of the first to hear...stuff. And the thing is, and this is really unverified – for now – but...”
When Yanna paused again, Mary said uneasily, “You’re m-making me more worried.”
“It’s still unverified, okay?” An unhappy expression appeared on the older woman’s face. “But...I think...there’s someone really close to Rathe doing his or her best to turn everyone against you.” A disapproving note entered Yanna’s voice. “I don’t know who it is yet, but I’m doing my best to find out. All I know for now is that whoever it is, this person has access to the most private stuff about Rathe’s life and it’s making all the stupid rumors about you sound so true.”
“D-does Rathe know?”
“I’m almost positive no one’s ever told him about the rumors, but they will eventually find their way to him. You know how it is. The people concerned are always the last to know.”
Mary nodded.
“I just wanted to warn you so you’d be on your guard.” Yanna took Mary’s hand again. “If you need to talk to anyone, Saffi and I are just a call away.”
****
“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the ball with me?” Rathe asked one last time as he started knotting his tie in front of the full-length mirror in their bedroom.
It was already the day after, and yet Yanna’s words still lingered in Mary’s mind, making her feel like she had to be extra vigilant with everything she did. Since she had no doubt Yanna’s warning was true, it meant that there was a viper in their midst, waiting to pounce on her mistake the first opportunity it had.
Meeting Rathe’s gaze through the mirror, Mary said half-pleadingly, “I t-think it’s better if I stayed here.” She knew Rathe was disappointed with her decision, but he had to understand she was doing this for both of them. She just wasn’t his equal right now, but she would do everything possible to make herself worthy of him in the future.
Thank God for people like Yanna and Camilla, Mary thought. Those women had known that it was better to give it to her straight than let her walk into a den of wolves unprepared.
While Yanna had warned her of an unknown enemy, Camilla on the other hand gave her better insight into Rathe’s thoughts. The first time she and Camilla had met, the older woman had told Mary right off the bat about rumors of Camilla and Rathe being a pair.
“But just ignore them. If we had something going on, it should have happened long before. We’ve known each other forever.”
The honest words had made Mary warm up to Camilla immediately, which was why she appreciated her friend’s heads-up about tonight’s ball.
Earlier, Mary had received a text from Camilla, one that convinced her to change her mind about attending the ball with Rathe.
Camilla: Don’t tell the duke I told you this since he’s just going to deny it to death, but the board’s been putting a lot of pressure on him lately. Something about marrying the “right” woman to put investors’ fears at rest. Yeah, whatever, right? I just thought you should know. If he asks you to accompany him to the party later, there are going to be a lot of those investors present. Expect it to be a blood bath. But still – chin up, okay?
“Mary?”
Blinking, she realized that Rathe had come to stand in front of her. He had finished dressing, and the sight of him in a gorgeous Italian suit effectively wiped away two decades’ worth of learned vocabulary.
Gah. So. Handsome. Like. Wow.
Rathe’s low chuckle had her eyes flying up at him.
“Right now,” he murmured wickedly, “I’m guessing you’re thinking I’m very, very good-looking.”
All sorts of retorts came to mind, but she ended up with, “Xihwerhtiwha.” In other words, gibberish was all she was capable of.
His low, sexy-sounding laughter rang out in the room, and then Rathe was bending down as he stole a kiss. When he lifted his head, she was breathless and dazed. And if she had to be honest, she was also more than a little sad she was not able to go to the ball with him.
“Sure you’re not going to change your mind?”
“I’m...sure.”
His eyes became hooded.
She asked worriedly, “R-Rathe?”
A odd smile played on his lips, and his tone sounded just as odd as he murmured, “Don’t mind me. I’m just feeling bereft. This is the first event I’ll be attending without you since we came here.”
As he straightened, Mary’s unease deepened. She felt like she was making a big mistake, but surely it couldn’t be?
One day, Mary told herself fiercely, she would make him see that she was only doing this for him. Tonight was all about not putting him in a position that he’d be forced to defend her, that he’d be forced to choose between her and his investors.
When Rathe was halfway to the door, Mary said impulsively, “I’ll m-miss you.”
Rathe halted. “If you really do, then why not choose to come with me?”
She couldn’t think of an answer, and she could only watch helplessly as Rathe closed the door behind him.
Was she really doing the right thing?
Mary’s absence from Rathe’s side was like seeing a ghost. It was as if she was there but not there, her presence palpable but not visible. Even now, he could not get rid of the disappointment he felt at Mary’s refusal to accompany him.
Was it selfish of him to feel this way, Rathe wondered broodingly as he watched the other guests mingle around him. He knew he should be doing the same thing, if only to quell the stupid rumors. Recently, it had come to his attention people believed he was neglecting his work because he was too infatuated with his American girlfriend.
This party was an important occasion, one where he could have brokered numerous deals. But even knowing that, Rathe did nothing, his thoughts completely consumed by an eighteen-year-old girl.
Was this how it started for his father? An attraction, turning into an obsession that couldn’t be so easily satiated?
When it was finally time to have dinner, Rathe was relieved to find his assigned seat next to a familiar face.
A tall, svelte brunette in her thirties, Camilla walked towards him with a smile. “Your Grace.” She curtsied beautifully, the deep neckline of her gown revealing a magnificent glimpse of her cleavage.
Rathe’s lips curved. “Hello, Camilla.” His lips brushed against her perfumed cheek in a friendly greeting. He pulled out a seat for his childhood friend before claiming the one next to her.
“It’s good that you’re here. If it had been one of those vapid chits, they’d have driven me crazy in minutes.”
He shrugged.
Camilla raised a brow. “Did you have a tiff or something?”
Rathe shook his head, saying finally, “She chose not to come.”
“Ah.” Camilla clucked her tongue. “I can’t say I blame the poor gal. She is eighteen, you know. And this party?” She waved a hand, gesturing at their surroundings. “What do you see around you, Your Grace? Is this the kind of party someone her age would likely enjoy?”
Slowly, his gaze roamed his surroundings. A ballroom, rather than a night club. Crystal chandeliers rather than neon LED lighting. And guests in suits and gowns rather than cool-looking blazers and mini skirts.
“It’s your fault, Your Grace,” Camilla chided softly. “You’re being quite the selfish jerk, wanting her to come here so she’d be put on a spot and forced to act older—”
Rathe’s curt nod, a command in itself, had Camilla immediately quieting.
“I understand already.” The words were spoken in such an icy tone it almost made Camilla shiver. It also tempted her to smile, but she knew that was the one thing she shouldn’t ever do.
For the rest of the evening, Camilla was content to speak of business matters, making no mention at all of Mary. She didn’t have to since she had already achieved her objective.
When Rathe walked her to the chaffeured limo waiting for her by the curb, Camilla kissed him goodbye, making sure to have her lips linger a second longer than usual.
Inside her limousine, she quickly took out her phone and sent a message to the Wellesley family’s solicitor Wilson Daughtry.
Camilla: FYI, everything going as planned.
Wilson: You are Daddy’s girl indeed. And great job on the kiss as well. The photographers got really good shots.
Camilla: I look forward to seeing it in tomorrow’s tabloids.
Wilson: Just be sure to play it subtly with the two.
Camilla: You’ve got nothing to worry about. You know how these “honorable” people are.
Wilson: I wouldn’t know since I’m not one.
Camilla: And I am so bloooooody thankful for that. Rest assured, my dear father, I’m still going to be the Duchess, and you will still have a duke for a son-in-law.
Chapter Six
“G-good morning.”
Rathe froze, the sound coming from behind him taking him by surprise. It was five o’clock in the morning, wasn’t it? She wasn’t supposed to be awake.
He spun around, wanting to see if he had just imagined hearing Mary’s voice.
He hadn’t.
She stood by the kitchen entrance, a tiny dark-haired temptress in a silk nightgown that barely covered anything, enticing him with the sight of her creamy breasts and shapely legs.
“Good morning.” Although his accent sounded more pronounced, Rathe managed to keep his voice even, nothing to betray the painful erection he was currently sporting.
How long had it been since they last made love? Too bloody long, Rathe thought, if the way his cock tried to force its way out of his trousers was any indication.
Mary swallowed back her disappointment at Rathe’s level response. Seduction attempt #5 was another fail. It had taken all her courage to come down wearing something so skimpy, knowing that any of the duke’s stay-in servants could also catch sight of her. But she might as well have come down in her pajamas, the way Rathe appeared so composed before her.
It made her own reaction to him laughably ironic. He, on the other hand, didn’t have to do anything to reduce her into a seduced mess. Today, Rathe had on a blue shirt under a red wool vest and a casual business jacket. He looked like the quintessential British man about town, and just the sight of him had her knees quaking.
Had it only been a few months since she had first learned the beauty of lovemaking? It was such a short time, really, and yet she missed Rathe’s touch like she had known its taste forever.
Gripping her tray tightly, she asked, “I thought w-we could s-share breakfast before you left?”
The words finally had him noticing the contents on her tray: a bowl of his favorite cereal, two slices of toast, a cup of steaming coffee, and freshly squeezed orange juice. His kind of breakfast in other words.
He opened his mouth to refuse, but when he saw a determinedly bright smile form on her lips, he knew Mary was already preparing herself for rejection.
“Of course,” Rathe heard himself saying instead.
Mary’s eyes widened, unable to believe what she was hearing. Had he really agreed to spend time with her? After being treated almost like she didn’t exist in the past few days, the words made her afraid to hope.
Flushing at the visible surprise on Mary’s face, he gestured to the smaller dining area to their right and asked stiffly, “Shall we have it there?”
“Y-yes.” She couldn’t keep happiness from seeping into her voice, couldn’t help smiling widely when Rathe took his tray from her.
When they went to the dining room and Rathe seated himself at the head of the table, he glanced at her with a raised eyebrow.
She blinked in bemusement. “D-do you want something else?”
Rathe frowned. “Aren’t we supposed to be eating together?”
“Oh.” She had been so happy he had agreed to spend time with her she forgot all about getting her own meal. Blushing, she stammered, “I...I’ll be right back.”
Rathe watched Mary dash out of the room as if it was the utmost importance she came back to his side right away. Guilt stung him, Rathe knowing fully well why she was acting so.
Ever since their return from London, he had found himself avoiding her. Distancing himself. Protecting himself.
That time she had chosen not to accompany him to the ball, it had been like a slap to his face, forcing him to see things the way they truly were. And the reality was that he needed to re-learn how to live without her.
Mary’s smile faded when she returned to the dining room. Even without Rathe saying a word, she knew, she sensed that he had changed. That he had gone back to being the Duke of Flanders, a man completely out of reach.
Despite it, she persisted, taking the seat next to him, carrying her own tray of breakfast with her.
Her heart sank a little when she saw that he was almost done with his. “Y-you want another serving?” she asked hopefully.
“I don’t think so.” Seeing her still gazing at him, Rathe added, “Everything tastes delicious, though.”
The compliment made her face feel like a frozen mask. She almost wished he had growled or snapped at her instead. She hated the way he treated her so civilly nowadays. It was as if Rathe saw her as someone no different from all the other people he kept at a polite distrance.
When Rathe was done, he glanced at Mary and noticed that her entire meal was untouched. The sight had guilt stinging his conscience once more. His jaw clenched, knowing he should ask her about it. But in the end, he said nothing, his heart refusing to lay itself open to more pain in the future.
When he stood up, she did the same.
“Thank you for this.” His voice was even stiffer now.
“It w-was my pleasure.” She stepped forward, but his next words had her faltering.
“I appreciate it, but you do not need to go through the next trouble next time.”
“I...see.” Didn’t that mean he wanted to make sure they spent the least amount of time together? She fumbled for something to hold on to, and was relieved to find a chair close enough for her to clutch. It was better to play it safe, the way her knees threatened to buckle under her.
When she was sure she would be able to move without falling, she did so, intending to kiss him goodbye but just as her lips reached him, he turned sideways, and her lips touched his cheek instead.
A soft cry escaped her.
Rathe cursed under his breath at the sound. “Mary—”
She panicked at the sound of her name, a part of her terrified that
he would say something she wasn’t ready to hear. “I’m s-sorry, okay? If I had known...” She choked back a sob. “If I h-had k-known it w-would make y-you so angry when I d-didn’t go with you—”
His gaze turned opaque at the words, his expression becoming shuttered. “It didn’t make me angry,” Rathe muttered savagely. “It made me...” He stopped himself from speaking, furious that he had almost exposed more of his vulnerability.
It had made him damn weak, and that was what he could not accept. That he was thirty four years old, and yet one night without her at his side had made him lonely as hell. Terrified.
What if Mary one day realized she could live without him – the way he apparently couldn’t live without her anymore?
“Leave it,” Rathe said finally. “It’s a thing of the past.”
If it was, then why did it feel like he was still punishing her for it? She said entreatingly, “I o-only did it because I d-didn’t w-want to risk doing anything t-that could m-make people laugh at you—”
“I said, leave it.”
Mary flinched.
Bloody hell. He had done it again, hurt her without wanting to. Why couldn’t she just obey him, blast it. Didn’t she understand that pretending may eventually be the only way for them to stay together, the only way to stop realizing what the rest of the world had long been telling them?
“Let’s just not talk about it, all right?” Rathe suddenly felt tired and older.
She nodded.
“I’ll see you tonight. Maybe we can even have dinner together if I finish work early.”
Mary forced a smile. “I look forward to it.” But she only said it for his sake, only held on to her smile until he left. She knew her duke better than he realized, and her guts told her Rathe hadn’t meant a word he said.
Chapter Seven
“...Miss Mary?”
Hearing Rathe’s heavyset middle-aged housekeeper speak had Mary blinking out of her reverie. It was close to seven in the evening, the day nearing to a close, and she still couldn’t make herself forget about this morning’s episode.
