“You cannot understand, either, Honora,” Mary growled.
“And how is it that you understand?” Augusta, who was normally so quiet, asked.
Mary narrowed her eyes on Augusta. “I was once duped by a rogue, if you must know! He convinced me he loved me, and I gave my innocence to him like a fool! He, of course, had no intention of marrying me, and I was left ruined so that no respectable man would ever wed me!”
Anne blanched at the revelation. It had never entered her mind that Mary was so very dour because she had been ruined by a rake. Had Grandfather sent her away from London after the incident? Is that why the relationship between them was so strained? Had he unfairly considered it Mary’s fault? Anne loved her grandfather, but it had not always been so. He could be cold and forbidding when he did not truly mean to be.
“I’m so sorry, Mary,” Anne said, as Honora and Augusta murmured the same. Fanny did not comment. Perhaps Mary had already shared the secret with her.
“Was the scoundrel ever brought to justice?” Honora asked.
“I had thought perhaps a sort of justice had been served,” Mary said, a contemplative look coming to her face. Then her eyes narrowed, and a twisted smile curled her lips. “He was sent away from England and denied by his own grandfather when he discovered what his grandson had done and how he refused to marry me. But alas, the grandfather has died, and last night I saw the scoundrel who tricked me at the ball.”
Anne had a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. “Who is it, Mary?” she asked. She could not say exactly why, but she had a suspicion it was the Duke of Kilmartin.
“Oh, I shouldn’t say,” Mary replied, waving her hand. Anne noticed that Mary shot what appeared to be a quelling glance at Fanny. Had Mary shared the man’s name with Fanny and she wanted Fanny to remain silent?
Fanny got a distinctly uneasy look on her face.
“Mary, you must tell us,” Honora said. “We should add this man to our list! Once a rogue, always a rogue.”
“Oh, I dare not,” Mary said, fixing her gaze rather pointedly on Fanny once more.
Fanny chewed on her lip for a moment, her hands twisting rather furiously in her lap. The woman obviously knew Mary’s secret and did not want to break her friend’s confidence, but if their little group could help bring the man to some sort of justice or teach him a lesson…
“Fanny, you must tell us his name!” Anne insisted. “It’s obvious that you know!”
“Fanny, you mustn’t!” Mary exclaimed, as her eyebrows rose high.
Poor Fanny looked positively miserable, as if caught in the worst sort of predicament. Anne truly hated to push her, but honestly, if the man had done such a thing to Mary years before, he would likely strike some poor innocent debutante again, and it was their duty to ensure he did not. “If we know who he is, we could discover whether he has changed or not, and if he has not, we can stop him from doing such a thing again.”
“I’m certain he’s unchanged,” Mary snapped. “I want justice! I want all debutantes to know he’s a rogue, but the truth must not be associated with my name.”
Poor Mary must have still felt shamed. Anne understood completely. “No one will have any inkling that you and he ever had an, er,friendshipin the past. Will you please tell us his name?”
“Don’t say a word, Fanny!” Mary exclaimed, as if the question had been directed at Fanny and not at her.
“It’s the new Duke of Kilmartin,” Fanny blurted, guilt etched on her face.
That sinking sensation in Anne’s stomach settled there like a giant, jagged rock. Blast that man! She had known he was a dangerous rogue, and yet…yet, he had intrigued her. She could not deny it. She was a perfectly enormous fool. Anger simmered, then turned to a boil.
“I met him,” she said, her voice sounding sharp to her own ears.
“Yes,” Mary said, surprising her. “I saw you stroll onto the balcony with him from my seat at the table.”
Anne frowned. “If you knew he was a rogue, why did you not come to fetch me?”
“And say what?” Mary challenged. “Should I have marched outside and demanded you leave his presence? How would I have explained it? What a fool I would have looked like, as if I had not moved past what happened all those years ago! As if I brooded over it still! As if sometimes at night I didn’t still wonder what life might have been like had he actually been a gentleman and married me!”
“Oh, Mary,” Anne cried out, realizing that everything the woman was saying was true for her, too. Anne clutched his topcoat as her mind turned. “We will teach him a lesson, I promise. One that ensures he hesitates before duping a lady again.”
Mary sniffed but nodded. “You mustn’t let on to Rowan.”
Anne’s brow furrowed. “Grandfather? Did he know what occurred?”
Mary nodded. “Of course. It was dreadful. He blamed me, as well, and sent me away. I fear what he might do if he thinks I’ve not let the past die now that Kilmartin has returned. I don’t want to be sent away again.”
“Of course not,” Anne assured her. “I will think of something.”
