Page 12 of Wedded to the Duke of Seduction

“The woman cornered me at the Middletons’ ball and spent forty-five minutes describing the ailments of her cats—all sixteen of them!” Lord Clarkshire grimaced. “In excruciating detail.”

“Perhaps you ladies might continue without me?” He was already edging away. “I’ll…um… inspect the foliage. Is that an elm? Most riveting!”

Marina smiled as Harold made his escape and was immediately intercepted by a passing acquaintance who provided convenient cover from the approaching Lady Ponsonby.

Caroline looped her arm through Marina’s, guiding them along a less populated path. “Now that my husband has abandoned us, perhaps you might tell me what truly troubles you.”

Marina hesitated. Caroline was her dearest friend, but even she didn’t know about the stories. Yet the burden of keeping the secret from her friend had grown heavy in the days since her encounter with the Duke of Blackmere.

“I have done something rather reckless,” she finally admitted.

Caroline’s eyes widened with interest. “How delightfully ominous. Please elaborate.”

Marina glanced around to ensure they wouldn’t be overheard. “You’re aware of the stories everyone is reading? The ones about a certain dark-haired duke with particular…interests?”

“Of course! They are absolutely scandalous—” Caroline stopped abruptly, her mouth forming a perfect O. “Marina, you don’t mean to say…”

“I wrote them,” Marina confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You wrote—” Caroline lowered her voice as Marina frantically gestured for her to be discreet. “You wrote those stories? About the Duke of Blackmere?”

Marina nodded, watching as her friend’s expression cycled through a variety of emotions—shock, awe, and finally, concern.

“How did you…I mean, the details are so…”

“From various indiscreet ladies who were all too happy to share their experiences with my publisher.” Marina’s cheeks grew hot. “I didn’t realize the Duke would recognize himself.”

“He knows?” Caroline gasped, and her grip on Marina’s arm tightened. “Did he confront you?”

Marina nodded and then recounted her nighttime encounter with the duke.

“My goodness,” Caroline breathed when Marina finished. “Ten years ago, his younger brother disappeared suddenly. Rumors flew among the ton that he had murdered his brother William and Miss Felicity Exeter in a fit of jealous rage. Of course, the authorities investigated, but they found no evidence. Still, many believe… well, certainly you’ve heard how people speak of him.”

Marina recalled the dangerous intensity in his eyes, the controlled power in his movements. Yet, there had also been a moment when something had flashed across his features—something wounded.

“What will you do?” Caroline asked. “Surely you cannot continue writing about him now that he knows.”

Marina sighed. “If only it were that easy. Mr. Lupton has made it clear that without these particular stories, he has no interest in publishing my work. And without that income?—”

“Couldn’t you find another publisher?”

“With no name or connections? And with my reputation? As an unmarried woman, I might have passed myself off as a spinster in need.” Marina shook her head. “Lupton only agreed because he was desperate for new material that month. I doubt I would find another so willing to overlook my circumstances.”

Caroline frowned. “It’s unfair. I can’t help but worry about the Duke’s reaction if you continue. A man with his reputation?—”

“Is precisely why the stories sell so well,” Marina finished.

“It’s a dangerous game, my dear.”

“One I cannot afford to lose.” Marina squared her shoulders. “Besides, what can he do? Expose me as the author? That would only confirm that the stories are about him and that they might be true.”

Caroline studied her face. “You’re enjoying this just a little bit, aren’t you? The risk of it all.”

Marina opened her mouth to deny it but stopped. There was a strange exhilaration in the game they had begun. This dangerous dance with the Duke.

“Perhaps a little,” she admitted.

“I thought so.” Caroline’s lips curved into a smile that was half concern and half excitement. “I suppose the ton was growing terribly dull anyway. Do you promise me you will be careful? I’m not prepared to visit you in Newgate if the Duke decides murder is indeed his preferred solution to problems. After all, I know it will be you who bests him.”

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