Read Online Secret Brides [3] Secrets of a Scandalous Marriage by Valerie Bowman - Free Book Online Page B

word nor deed. “Why did you say that, your grace?” was all the barrister asked. The man was skilled at his job, James had to admit, quite skilled.
    Kate buried her face in her hands. “I didn’t mean it. Not literally at least. I was so ashamed, humiliated, angry. I reacted out of fear. But I didn’t mean it. And I certainly never would have done it.”
    Mr. Abernathy laid down his quill, reached over, and placed his hand atop hers. “I understand, your grace.”
    James watched the exchange through narrowed eyes. He didn’t know what to make of it. She wasn’t crying but she was distraught. She seemed strong but she also appeared vulnerable. She was either a bloody brilliant actress or the most unlucky woman in the kingdom, and damn it, James couldn’t tell. He’d always prided himself on being able to sum up people quickly, make decisions about their character, their integrity. But the duchess remained a mystery to him. A beautiful mystery.
    She expelled a long breath. “Oh, they might as well just burn me now. I know my story sounds just dreadful.”
    “Stay strong, your grace. You’re doing an excellent job,” Abernathy replied.
    The duchess’s jaw clenched. “Please, Mr. Abernathy, do not call me ‘your grace.’”
    The barrister nodded. “Very well. Now.” He grabbed up his quill again. “After your argument, your husband left the room?”
    She tugged at her bottom lip with her teeth. “Yes, I assume he went to his own bedchamber.”
    “And when did you … see him next?” Abernathy asked.
    She rubbed her forehead. “It was less than an hour later. I wanted to ask him when he planned to leave. I should have sent a servant.”
    Abernathy made a note. “Did you go to his bedchamber to apologize?”
    She shook her head and straightened her shoulders. Her voice was steady, calm, direct. “No. I did not.”
    James’s gaze snapped to her face. He respected the hell out of that answer. It would have been so easy for her to say yes. It might have made her look a bit less guilty. Instead, she held her head high and told … the truth. She hadn’t gone to Markingham’s bedchamber to apologize. And from what James had just heard of the man’s treatment of her, he couldn’t blame her.
    “Forgive me, but I must ask,” Abernathy continued, eyeing the duchess carefully over the rims of his spectacles. “What did you see when you entered your husband’s bedchamber?”
    “Take your time,” James added, watching her closely.
    She was quiet for several long seconds, and James saw the tears she was valiantly trying to quash shimmering in the blue depths of her eyes. “I knocked,” she whispered, holding up her fist as if she were back there in front of the door to Markingham’s room. “Quietly at first and then more loudly. There was no answer.”
    “Go ahead,” Abernathy prompted, in a calm, steady voice.
    She shook her head slightly, and one red-gold curl came loose from her bun and fell to her cheek. “And then I don’t know why, but something … something made me decide to open the door, to not turn away and assume he’d already left.”
    A nod from the barrister. “Yes.”
    Kate expelled a shaky breath. “I turned the handle and opened the door. I pushed it open and stepped inside.”
    “What did you see?” If Abernathy was anything like James, he was holding his breath too.
    “It was cold in the room. Dark. I had to blink to focus, to see anything.”
    “Yes.” Abernathy nodded.
    Kate’s voice shook. “There he was.” The far-off look was back in her eyes. James was certain she was reliving every awful moment of it.
    “He was lying on the floor. Twisted, bloody.” She cupped her hand over her mouth.
    “He was dead?” Abernathy prompted.
    “Yes.” She mumbled through her hand. Her voice cracked.
    “You’re sure.” Abernathy’s eyes bored into her.
    The duchess remained in a trance of memory. “Yes. I walked over to him, so carefully, so slowly. ‘George,’ I