Page 65 of Her Duke's Secret


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“Have you been eavesdropping?” Arabella asked sharply.

“Of course not,” Emma replied indignantly. “I came to find you and saw you were talking to Harry, so I waited. It didn’t look as though you were having a very pleasant conversation, though.”

“We were not,” Arabella said, then grabbed her sister by the arm and pulled her into a nearby alcove where they could speak privately. “He keeps a mistress. My suspicions were correct. Her name is Helen, and he’s going to see her now.”

Emma’s jaw dropped. “He is? Are you certain?”

Arabella nodded miserably. “Yes, I am. I overheard him talking to his uncle earlier. His uncle admonished him—no,ridiculedhim for having feelings for this woman, Helen. Still, she seems to be quite untouchable. His uncle even called her an imbecile.”

Emma frowned. “He did? That’s unkind. I mean, it’s worse that he’s keeping a mistress, but his uncle is very unpleasant. But what are you going to do?”

Arabella shrugged. “I already suspected he had a mistress. I searched his study the night you and Hanna stayed over and found a drawing of a woman and a child. I assumed it was his mistress and his child, but I was wrong. It was his aunt and cousin, or so he said. Now, I don’t know what to believe. He’s a liar—a rotten liar.”

Emma rubbed her arm, sensing her sister’s distress. Arabella hadn’t intended to confide in her, but if she was going to tell someone, it would be Emma. She needed her advice.

Emma was always the more pragmatic one, seeing things as they were, though often with a touch of cynicism. Hanna was too dreamy, too soft-hearted.

Their earlier argument was forgotten now that she had revealed the truth of her troubles.

“Well, you must find out who she is. He’s going to see her now?”

Arabella crossed her arms. “He said he’s tending to business, but who conducts business at eight o’clock at night? Besides, Parliament is in session, so most of the gentlemen in the House of Lords would be there. He was meant to go but canceled because his uncle was supposed to dine with him. Now that his uncle has canceled dinner, he suddenly has business to attend to?”

Emma raised an eyebrow. “That seems rather peculiar. I agree—he must be visiting her. You must follow him, Bella.”

“Follow him? What do you mean? I don’t know where he’s going.”

“Take Father’s carriage,” Emma suggested. “Tell Masterson to stay a fair distance behind. That way, Harry won’t see the coat of arms. Follow him, and if you must, go on foot. Find out where he goes, remember the address, and tomorrow I will go with you to confront her.”

Arabella gulped but knew her sister was right. If she wanted the truth, she had to follow Harry to his mistress’s home.

CHAPTER 28

What in the world was wrong with her? Harry thought, his mind reeling as he replayed their evening over and over again in his head. He believed he had done everything right, going out of his way to show her that he was trying. He had even gone so far as to tell his uncle that he was no longer welcome at Ridlington Manor—a bold move he had never dared before.

While he had often enjoyed needling his uncle in small ways, making his hackles rise for his own amusement, he had never done so in a manner that might truly provoke the old man’s fury. The memory of his childhood days, when he had received the brunt of his uncle’s wrath, was enough to keep him wary. He knew well what that looked like, and it was a sight he did not wish to bring down upon himself—or anyone else, for that matter.

Yet, despite his efforts, it wasn’t enough for her. Arabella had barely spoken to him all night, and when she did, it was in that icy tone he had heard other lords use when dismissing aconstituent—someone who dared to seek their assistance on the steps of Parliament. A tone reserved for those deemed beneath notice.

The thought stung. To think that she had spoken to him in such a manner, as though he were nothing more than a nuisance.

Why should it wound him so? It shouldn’t. But this was the price he paid for opening his heart to her, even just a fraction. He had never intended to grow so attached to her, never should have kissed her. Yet, he hadn’t been able to forget that fateful moment.

He lifted his hand to his lips, remembering the feel of her soft lips against his. He had planned to kiss her again tonight, after dancing with her—societal expectations be damned. They would have danced, then he would have taken her to the garden to watch the stars, and under the night sky, he would have kissed her again.

But none of that had come to pass. Instead, he had been left standing there, feeling more like a fool than ever. How could he have let himself get so caught up in this madness? He knew it wasn’t right. He shouldn’t have allowed her into his life—it was bad for both of them. But despite knowing all of that, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. He couldn’tnotbe with her.

The carriage came to a stop, pulling him from his thoughts. He stepped down onto the sidewalk, looking up at the five-story building before him. The bricked-up windows gave it a forlorn,almost ominous appearance—more than any other home on the street.

Even for a frugal man, it was excessive, for he knew the windows were bricked up at the back as well. Richard hadn’t done this simply to save money. No, he had wanted to block out the sun, to literally rob the house’s inhabitants of light, and Harry couldn’t help but feel a shiver run down his spine at the thought.

He swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat, rolling back his shoulders to release some of the tension. Then, with a deep breath, he knocked on the door.

“Your Grace,” the old, white-haired woman who answered the door greeted, her voice tinged with surprise. “The hour is late. We were not expecting you. She has just gone to bed.”

“She has?” he asked, dismayed. “May I not see her?”

“You may, of course,” the woman replied, stepping aside to allow him entry. “But she is not dressed for company.”