How To Seduce A Duke

And what Mary had found.

“Bloody hell.”

Chapter 21

Cavendish Square

“Mary is hurt. She, even her sisters, will not see me, will not take my cards, nor my messages.” Rogan raised his eyes from the hat in his hands to Lady Upperton’s round face. “I need your help. She will listen to you.”

“Dear boy, she will listen to you as well,” the old woman told him. “You only need to give her a true reason.”

“What more reason is there than I love Mary and want to spend my life with her?”

“Do you now, Blackstone?”

“I do.”

“Have you told Mary this?”

“No…not specifically.” Rogan turned his hat in his hands and thought about her question. “She knows how I feel about her. I am sure of it.”

Lady Upperton huffed at that. “Never underestimate the power of words, Blackstone. Sometimes, when we most need to hear them, words can be stronger than deeds.”

Rogan thought about what Lady Upperton said. And it was true. When Mary had whispered, “I love you” into his ear, his heart had swelled.

He hadn’t known then how much he’d needed to hear those three simple words. It seemed he’d been waiting his entire life to hear “I love you.”

“I shall speak with Lotharian. We will assist you, Blackstone.” Lady Upperton raised her hand before Rogan could argue the wisdom of her suggestion. “Now, now, do not interrupt. Lotharian needs to redeem himself. He wishes to see you and our Mary together almost as much as yourself.”

The little woman scooted to the end of the settee and pulled a lever, which shot forth a footstool. “You said that the rector is able to officiate on Wednesday, is that correct?”

“Indeed. Ten in the evening.”

She stepped onto the footstool, then to the floor. Rogan took her elbow and walked alongside her into the entry hall.

“Do not change your plans,” she told him as they reached the front door and the footman opened it.

“But how will-”

“No, no. No more chatter for now.” She patted his arm. “Wait for my message on the morrow. There will be a wedding.” Her crimson-painted lips curved upward. “You will see. Trust the purity of Mary’s heart. She will not let you down.”

It was Wednesday.

And this night Mary would have become the Duchess of Blackstone.

Instead, she remained inside the house, curtains drawn, the knocker removed from the front door as though the family was not at home.

When Mary heard the door open, she rose from the window seat in the parlor and walked to meet her sisters, who had gone to Portman Square to collect her belongings from Rogan.

Only they had returned very quickly.

When Mary walked into the entry hall, she saw that Elizabeth and Anne were not alone.

Quinn’s cane clicked on the marble floor as he stepped toward her, his hand outstretched.

“Miss Royle,” he said, his voice quavering slightly. “We must speak. Please.”

Mary’s gaze shot to Anne’s.

“We had only just arrived when Lord Wetherly’s carriage drew up before the house. He had come from his country house to help his brother prepare for the wedding.”

“But your sisters told me that there would not be a wedding today. And I fear the fault is mine.” Quinn’s gaze crawled along the floor before he gathered the courage to meet Mary’s.

“Your fault? How can that be?” Mary asked. When Quinn did not immediately reply, she gestured for him to follow her into the parlor.

When Elizabeth made to join them, Mary turned back to her. “Would you two please put my belongings in my bedchamber?” she asked, hoping to glean a few private moments hearing what Quinn had to tell her without her sisters listening to every word.

“Oh, we did not collect your belongings. And we do apologize for not doing so.” Elizabeth nervously glanced at Anne for support.

“Quinn was certain that what he had to tell you would repair the misunderstanding between you and the duke.” Anne took a step backward. “So I told Elizabeth that we should just return home and leave your belongings. It was the wisest course of action, for there may yet be a wedding this eve after all.”

Mary pinned Anne with a heated gaze, but she said nothing and walked into the parlor with Lord Wetherly.

Mary offered him a chair, but he appeared more than a little on edge, admitting to her that he preferred to stand.

“I-I thought you knew,” he stammered.

“I don’t understand, Lord Wetherly.”

“I apologized. And you accepted it.” He peered at her through squinted, confused eyes.

Mary set her hands on her knees and leaned forward. “Please, Quinn, speak plainly. I do not recall any apology. What could you have done that might warrant one?”

“Truly, you do not know?”

Mary shook her head brusquely, hoping that Quinn would hurry along with his confession.

“I was so happy for my brother. So joyous that he had found a woman so worthy of his heart.” He swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “I wanted to share my brother’s happiness with everyone, but so few knew of the ceremony. So I submitted the column recounting your wedding at the Argyle Rooms.”

Mary shot to her feet. “You? But I found it with Rogan’s papers in the secretaire.”

“I put it there, so later I could compare my wording with the on-dit column when the news of the wedding was published. Surely you are aware of the columnists’ penchant for embellishment. I wanted to be sure they reported everything correctly. It was important to me.”

“Then Rogan never saw the draft or knew of the column before it was published?”

“No, he didn’t.” Quinn shrugged sheepishly. “I was reading the very column I had supplied to the editors at the newspaper when Rogan came down the stairs to break his fast. I had been out the night before and hadn’t realized that he had come home.”

Mary’s head began to ache. She didn’t want to hear any more, but she knew she must.

“When Rogan told me that the wedding had been Lotharian’s lark, I could not speak. Rogan took the newspaper from the table and began to read it. He was headed for the door before I could confess my error. As he was leaving, he told me he would be bringing you back with him. I knew he would marry you and the cart would be set to rights again.”

“Why didn’t you tell him? Or tell me?”

“Rogan was so happy. Oh, he tried not to let on, but I could see it. I have never seen a man whose heart was so full. I couldn’t tell him. And the article really didn’t matter at that point anyway. You and he were going to be married.”

Mary’s eyebrows inched toward her nose. “Wait a moment. You did mention the column to me.” She raised a finger in the air as she dug deep into her memory to recall the words. “You apologized for the column.” She looked at Quinn. “But I thought you meant that the release of the column was regrettable. Not that you wrote it!”

Quinn coughed an uneasy half laugh. “I suppose on some level I knew you misunderstood. I only hoped that you would realize that I had supplied the information for the column when you read it and saw that my name alone