Read Online The Duke Diaries by Sophia Nash - Free Book Online Page A

is . . .” And within a quarter hour Mary was apprised of the details of James’s catastrophic non-wedding morning. But Verity was just not ready to confide her own disaster-in-the-making.
    “Well, I know it’s not correct of me to allow this,” Mary began. “But I think it was the unspoken thought of most of the ton that Candover’s wedding of the century would have been the greatest mistake of the century. Although I will admit, quite selfishly, that it works out very well for me.”
    Verity stared at her. “Why?”
    “All of London is so focused on the ruckus that the upper crust will be entirely uninterested in my sad story.”
    Verity waited patiently.
    “The MacGregor is dead.”
    “ Dead ?”
    “The day before I arrived.”
    “Lord, Mary . . . Was he murdered?”
    “You always had the most vivid imagination, dearest.” Mary shook her head. “Didn’t you used to weave the most fantastic stories about jungle cats mating with zebras when you were a child?”
    “Cheetahs and panthers,” Verity replied with a sly look. “But they never mated. They merely flirted.”
    “Indeed,” Mary added, nodding. “Quite provocative for a young lady.”
    “But what of MacGregor? Oh, I’m so sorry, Mary. But we all understood him to be a virile man in his prime.”
    “He succumbed to a sudden lung fever the day before I arrived for our wedding in the Highlands.”
    “Oh, Mary.”
    The great beauty glanced toward the lengthening shadows reflected from the window. “It’s all right, Verity. I’ve had a long carriage ride to reconcile myself to the fact. I believe he would have been a good husband, even if he was a stranger. But I seem to be walking under a cloud of ill luck. I was dreadfully sorry for his family, who adored him. I stayed for a week—for the burial, but no longer. I felt like an imposter in a house full of proper mourners. So now I’m eventually for London where I shall wear mourning gowns and decline invitations for the required period. It suits me perfectly, actually, as you can imagine.”
    “I have a far better idea,” Verity began. “I’m positively begging you to remain here with me. You cannot go to Town. You know it would be unbearable for you. Lord and Lady Ha—” Verity stopped herself, horrified she had almost referred to Mary’s recent deep heartache.
    “It’s all right, Verity. You can say the name.” Mary’s mouth formed a lovely smile but her emerald eyes did not show a hint of happiness.
    “Lord and Lady Hadrien are in London, just returned from their honeymoon.”
    “I had guessed,” Mary said stiffly, with that same determined smile. “But truly I am fully recovered, Verity.”
    Her stunning friend’s visage spoke of the opposite.
    “I refuse to be bitter. It’s very simple really. What I thought we had formed was not genuine after all. It was mere illusion, nothing more. I know I’m lucky. And far better off without him. Hadrien sold himself for a price.” She looked down at her hands pleated in her lap in front of her. “But eventually he will learn the cost. I pity him, really, Verity. I very much doubt he will find happiness as the lapdog of a very rich older lady. And her grand estate is far from the glittering lights of Town he prefers.”
    After a long silence, Verity asked her softly, “I never knew precisely what happened. Hope and Faith didn’t breathe a word.”
    “I shall tell you, then,” Mary continued, studying the hem of her simple black mourning gown. “Hadrien never formally announced our engagement as promised. Slowly, and painfully, but most assuredly, he disappeared from my life—still privately declaring his deep love for me on the rare occasion I would see him. I later heard rumors that all the while he was secretly corresponding with the widowed countess. You know the rest.”
    “I wish there was a word worse than ‘devil’ for that is what he is. I do hope you never question yourself for he duped us all.” Verity