Page 17 of When her Duke Returns
Harry laughed under his breath. “You know I cannot stand Mama at the best of times. Though, as much as it pains me to say it, she is not without sense. She is worried about you.”
Mary feigned offense. “Did she send you after me?”
“Not entirely though we both know I’m rather good at reading between the lines of her drivel.” He cocked his head toward his sister. “Is there a reason for her to be? Worried, that is?”
“Does Mama not always find her own way in that regard?”
“So cryptic, my dear sister.” Harry leaned in close. “Shall I tell you what I think?”
“Even should I sayno, I doubt that would stop you.”
“I think…” he continued, not listening to her one bit, “I think someone has been playing the part of doting daughter against her better judgment for far too long, and now it has caught up with her. I think someone thought she could outrun her duty for a fleeting moment, andnowthinks that silence and melancholia will buy her some time, despite the imminent ringing of wedding bells.”
“Whoever could that someone be?”
“Oh, only the most stubborn girl I’ve ever known.” Harry placed a firm hand on his sister’s shoulder. “Oh Mary, let’s not talk in riddles. Let’s leave that to the rest of them.”Mary’s eyes welled suddenly with tears, and there was nothing she could do to hold back a long-overdue deluge of panic.
“I can’t,” she said softly as her heart started to break.
Harry’s eyes widened in surprise. “Good God, are you… are you crying?” he asked, trying to stifle a nervous laugh. He pulled her by the arm, whisking her away from any eager attendants. “Come! It won’t do for you to cry all over Murray’s silks. We can speak outside.”
They rushed out of the shop without so much as a word to their mother. Mary could hardly hold back her despair. She flicked open her parasol to shield herself from any onlookers and didn’t have the sense to protest as Harry rushed her along Oxford Street.
Before long, they arrived at the entrance of a verdant park which, given the time of day, was thankfully absent of its usual frequenters. Harry settled her on a bench in a cropped alcove, not far from the entrance that overlooked a wide pond. Mary suddenly felt like he was her tutor, and she a misbehaving student. She made sure no one was looking before she began to speak at last, the words leaving her like the onset of a storm.
“I don’t want this, Harry. You mustn’t tell Mama, but I don’t want this.” She wrang her delicate little hands together against the light muslin of her gown. “I thought I could manage the rumors and Antony, and—” She caught herself before revealing the breadth of her new affections. “It is impossible! The way he regards me now… I want to perish and be done with it, truly, I do. Better that than marry him.”
Harry furrowed his brow and swung an arm around his sister’s shoulders. “Oh, Mary… How could one kiss move you so?”
Mary sprung back slightly at his concession. Had he seen their exchange, or had he simply listened to the rumors and connected the dots? She shook her head. Clearly, the jig was up, and if there was anyone worth talking the ordeal over with, it would be her brother.
“It wasn’t the kiss. Or maybe it was… Oh,” she sighed and felt the tears upon her again, “you wouldn’t understand!”
“I believe you mistake me for Francis. If anyone can understand not being able to follow your heart, it is I.” Harry scoffed and looked over the waters of the pond. “They will say it is easy to belong to our lot, and in some regards, I don’t doubt it. But the matters of our hearts? Of our destinies? Of our bodies? We are more trapped than anyone else, I am sure of it.” At that, Harry dropped his gaze from the sun. “But now is not the time for philosophy, I suppose.”
Mary felt herself soften at her brother’s honesty and laughed softly. “This really is all your fault, you know. First, you set me the example of the perfect Carlisle rebel and expect me not to follow suit, and then you do everything in your power to orchestrate my undoing at the hands of the Duke.”
Harry cocked his head and smiled incredulously. “We both know that’s not the whole truth. Things would not have unfolded any differently had I not intervened. Sooner or later, you would have made your way back to him. I know it beyond any doubt.”
“Beyond any doubt? Is that so?”
“Why, of course! But, if you want to blame me for finallylivinga little, so be it. I will bear that cross.”
“I’ve come to think this is all a cruel joke: Redgrave’s death, his return, whatever stirs now within my heart… It’s as if the world truly has it out for me and is testing my resolve to its rotten limits,” Mary stated flatly. At least she was no longer crying.
She looked over to her brother, then, who had fallen silent. Harry stared off into the park, and Mary watched as he chewed on the inside of his cheek then burst out in uncontrollable laughter. He bent over himself, and Mary worried he had been struck with madness after staring at the sun for too long.
“What are you doing? What is it? Harry!” she pressed though her brother didn’t still an ounce.
“Oh, really,” he managed through fits of laughter.“This istoomuch. Even Shakespeare could not have written it better!”
“What?” Mary asked at once as he folded into deeper laughter. “Harry, what on earth?”
Harry wiped a tear from his eye. “I swear to you, sister. None of this was my doing. Iswearit!”
At that, Harry grabbed Mary by the shoulders and angled her toward where he was looking. There, across the pond, stood Alexander Rowe with a fishing pole between his hands.
Mary felt her heart sink at the sight of him. Even at this distance, she felt guilt rise up like bile in her throat as all of Antony’s threats echoed in her mind. They rang out within her in perfect contrast with the sun-kissed specter of the Duke, his face half-covered by bandages, laughing and smoking with two men at his side.
