Page 2 of Wedded to the Duke of Seduction

“Did we?” Lupton’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “The market is fickle, My Lady. Perhaps your next story will prove more profitable.”

Marina picked up the coins and tucked them into her reticule along with the folded paper.

Without another word, she spun on her heel and walked out of the office.

Outside, Marina pulled her hood lower and hurried toward home.

She tried to ignore the voice that drummed in her head that if she wrote what Lupton asked, she was no better than the gossips who had shredded her own reputation.

The wind bit through her cloak, reminding her that she needed to purchase coal before the week’s end. Three pounds and seven shillings wouldn’t stretch far. Once she paid the butcher his overdue six shillings, settled Mrs. Higgins’ wages of eight shillings, and put aside the ten shillings for next month’s coal, she would have barely enough left for candles and paper—the tools of her clandestine trade.

Marina’s gloved fingers curled tightly around her reticule. Her late husband’s heir, the new Earl of Asquith, had seen to it that her jointure was the minimum required by law.

“For a woman who drove my uncle to his death,” he had sneered, “you should consider yourself fortunate to receive anything at all.”

She had not bothered to explain that Henry’s gambling debts had far exceeded even his considerable income. That his drinking had begun long before their marriage. That she had tried, desperately, to manage the household accounts as they spiraled ever downward into a pit of red ink and promissory notes.

As she turned onto Mount Street, the modest townhouse came into view.

It was smaller than the Asquith residence on Grosvenor Square, but the rent was manageable—barely. If she missed even one payment from Lupton, she would have to dismiss Betty, her lady’s maid.

The thought of letting go of the only person who knew her secret, who helped her maintain the facade of respectable widowhood, made her chest tighten.

Marina paused at her doorstep, straightening her shoulders.

She would write Lupton’s scandalous tale about the Duke of Blackmere. She would collect her payment. And she would survive another month, her dignity intact, even if her conscience was a little more tarnished.

“I swear, Lady Asquith, you grow lovelier each time I see you,” Lord Clarkshire said as he offered Marina his arm as they entered the Hartington’s ballroom.

His wife, Caroline, smiled beside him, her golden curls glittering beneath the chandeliers.

“My Lord, you’ll make me blush,” Marina replied.

The Clarkshires had stood by her when most of society had turned their backs, and she was grateful for their support.

They made their way through the crowd toward their hosts, the Earl and Countess of Hartington. The Countess’ smile grew notably cooler when her eyes fell on Marina.

“Lady Clarkshire, how delightful.” Lady Hartington’s warmth was effusive as she greeted Caroline. “And Lord Clarkshire, you must tell my husband about that brilliant investment you mentioned at White’s.”

Only then did she turn and acknowledge Marina with the faintest of nods. “Lady Asquith.”

“A pleasure, Lady Hartington,” Marina murmured, maintaining her dignity even as the Countess turned away with a sniff to greet the next arrival.

As they moved deeper into the ballroom, the whispers followed her.

“The nerve of her showing her face in society…”

“After what she drove her poor husband to do…”

“They found him in the Thames, you know. Dead drunk…”

Marina kept her chin high even though each whisper felt like a needle pricking against her skin.

Suddenly, Lady Belford swooped down upon them, her daughter Georgiana in tow. The older woman’s eyes sparkled with barely contained excitement.

“Lady Clarkshire! And Lady Asquith, how… unexpected to see you here.” Lady Belford’s tone suggested Marina’s presence was about as welcome as a sudden rainstorm during a garden party. “I was just telling Georgiana about the most scandalous publication that’s been making the rounds.”

Caroline squeezed Marina’s hand in silent warning. “Indeed? I wasn’t aware you read such things, Lady Belford.”

---