Read Online The Counterfeit Heiress by TASHA ALEXANDER - Free Book Online

you, and you are desperate to fix things. In time, however, you start to realize you have almost no power whatsoever, and you begin to find yourself inured to it. Your helplessness becomes callousness, and before long you hardly remember having emotions at all.”
    I wanted to lift him from his seat and give him a stern reprimand followed by a lecture on how one ought to treat one’s spouse if one has even the barest respect for the marital state, but decided, on balance, the current situation did not merit such actions. They would be neither welcome nor helpful. “No one is arguing these are not the most difficult of times,” I said instead.
    “It is your duty to look after your wife properly, Hopwood,” Colin said, “and I insist that you start to do it at once. Furthermore, I will call at your club to corroborate your version of last night’s events. Knowing this, is there anything you wish to add to your narrative?”
    “No, there is nothing,” he said. “I have given serious thought to what you said to me earlier, Hargreaves, and I cannot believe my wife would hurt anyone, even Mary Darby. Somewhere inside her she knows there is no one to blame for our daughter’s death. She may rail against the midwife, she may be upset with her, but she would not strike out physically against her. Of that I am certain.”
    I cannot say that I shared his confidence.
    “Disgraceful man,” Colin said as we left. “To allow his wife to carry on in such a manner is unconscionable.”
    “I have never believed the primary role of a husband is to control his wife,” I said. “Quite the contrary.”
    “You know, my dear, that we agree on this point, but there are times when human decency requires intervention. This is one of them.” He ran a hand through his dark hair. “I feel fortunate to have a most rational wife.”
    “You are extremely fortunate. So fortunate, in fact, that I may even deserve an award of thanks.”
    “I shall see to that in the most thorough manner possible later this evening. For now, however—”
    “The In and Out,” I said. “Where I, of course, am not welcome.”
    “I am certain the navy shall one day come to see the error of their ways.”
    “It is unlikely I shall live long enough to see it. There is something that has been nagging at me, however, and I would like to pursue it while you explore the hallowed halls of Mr. Hopwood’s club. Would you collect me at Devonshire House when you are finished?”
    “Let’s meet in Green Park instead,” he said. “It’s too fine a day to spend more time inside than necessary.”
    *   *   *
    Devonshire House and Mr. Hopwood’s club could not have been more conveniently located to each other, being only a few blocks apart on Piccadilly, across from Green Park. We had the carriage leave us both at the In and Out (so called because those words were painted, one on each of the two pillars flanking the double doors) and sent it back to Park Lane so that we could walk home. Colin was right: the day was fine and I reveled in the cool breeze that drifted from the park to the pavement. As I approached the London seat of the Duke of Devonshire, I felt, as I always did, a spate of disappointment, for although the house could be counted among the most grand in town when one considered its interior, the exterior gave no hint of what lay inside.
    A tall brick wall, devoid of all ornamentation, lined the perimeter of the property, blocking the house from the street. Once inside the gate, the visitor would see that the façade had little more to offer than the wall. It was plain and austere, but the moment one stepped through the portico and into the entrance hall, one was firmly surrounded by luxury. The butler led me up the grand staircase to the first floor, where the duchess received me in a splendid drawing room done up in crimson silk.
    “What a success your party was,” I said, as she embraced me and we kissed on both cheeks. “A triumph that