Lord Medford rose from his seat. “I’ll leave you two.”

“No, my lord,” Kate replied, looking up at him. “Please stay. You have every right to hear this after the assistance you’ve provided me. Unless, of course, you’d rather not.”

“Are you certain?” he asked, meeting her eyes.

She glanced away. A single nod. “Yes.” For some unknown reason his presence comforted her.

Lord Medford settled back into his seat. He motioned to Mr. Abernathy. “Proceed.”

The barrister cleared his throat. His hand grasping the quill hovered over the parchment lying on the desktop in front of him. “Your grace? Is it true that you and his grace argued the morning of his death?”

Kate bit her lip but she returned the older man’s stare. “We did argue. That is true.”

Abernathy scribbled on the paper. “And the nature of your argument?”

She paused, opened her mouth, and then closed it again.

“It’s all right, your grace,” Lord Medford said. “We understand how difficult it must be for you to say these things.”

Kate felt a bit bolstered by his encouragement. She closed her eyes, trying to remember. She blew out a breath. “The previous evening, my husband had informed me that he refused to grant me a divorce.” She opened her eyes again.

Abernathy merely nodded, as if a duchess announced every day that she intended to divorce her duke. The man continued busily scribbling. “You had asked his grace for a divorce?”

“Yes.” She squeezed her clammy hands together in her lap.

Mr. Abernathy scribbled more. “When had you first mentioned a divorce to his grace?”

“I’d written to him, the week before. I’d been waiting for George to come to the Abbey and discuss it with me.”

More scribbling. “And that’s why he was there?”

“Yes.”

Abernathy looked up from his paper. “And he didn’t come alone?”

“No.” She gulped and her throat ached. “Lady Bettina, his … his mistress, was with him.”

* * *

James pounded his fist on the desktop, and the teacups bounced. The duchess and Abernathy turned to stare at him. Damn it. If that ass Markingham weren’t dead, James would like to land a punch squarely on his jaw right now. How dare the cad bring his mistress with him to discuss his marriage with his wife?

Abernathy returned his attention to the duchess, his hand poised over the parchment once again. “Did anyone else accompany his grace?”

Her eyes searched the ceiling. “His valet, Tucker, was with him as well.”

Abernathy kept his eyes trained on the paper while he busily wrote. “And what did your husband say to you?”

“He said…” She swallowed again. “He informed me … that he and Lady Bettina were in love.”

James cursed under his breath.

Abernathy didn’t look up. “But he refused your request for a divorce?”

She nodded. “Yes. As you know, the grounds for divorce are very … delicate and he refused to consider it.”

Abernathy cleared his throat. “And did you argue with him about the divorce that evening?”

She looked out the window, her eyes staring as if she were reliving what must have been a horrendous night. “No, not that night. I was … in shock.”

“Shocked that he refused to grant you the divorce?” Abernathy clarified.

“Yes. And that he told me he was in love. It made no sense to me that he wouldn’t want the divorce if he could be rid of me. You see, he’d … he’d been unfaithful many times before but he’d never been so bold as to tell me he was in love with any of them.”

James clenched his fist. If Markingham were as big an ass to everyone else as he was to his wife, no doubt he had a steady queue of people wanting to murder him.

Abernathy nodded. “What happened later that night? Did you see his grace, or Lady Bettina?”

Kate cleared her throat. “I did not. I spent the evening alone in my bedchamber. I asked my maid to bring me my dinner there.”

“And you didn’t see either one of them again until the next morning?” Abernathy continued.

“That’s correct.”

Abernathy paused for a sip from his teacup. “So, the next morning, when did you see them again?”

Kate also took a sip with a shaky hand. “I didn’t see Lady Bettina again until … after…” She glanced away.

“And his grace?” Abernathy asked evenly.

Her voice was high, strained. “He came to say good-bye. He told me he never wanted to see me again. He said he was returning to London and wouldn’t be back until I’d vacated the Abbey. He wanted me to move to a small property he owns near Carlisle. To be out of his way, once and for all, I suppose.”

Abernathy’s wrinkled hand shuffled across the parchment. “And that’s why you fought?”

“Yes.” She closed her eyes and pressed two fingertips to one lid. “I told him I was leaving, that I would seek a divorce with or without his consent. That I intended to come to London, to live here.”

Abernathy frowned. “And he wasn’t pleased with that?”

She shook her head frantically. “No. He yelled. Told me that he forbade it.”

“And what was your reply?” Abernathy scribbled furiously.

“I yelled back. I told him I didn’t care anymore what he wanted me to do. I was through taking orders from him. I’d spent the last ten years alone in the country, without him, without anyone, and I was going to leave.” She was shaking, trembling, and James could tell how much the experience had cost her. His heart wrenched for the woman who’d had to remain hidden in the country, alone for so long. But then Lily’s words from a few days ago came back to taunt him. I give you one week of dealing with the duchess before you’re assisting with her defense. Damn it, he didn’t want to care. Didn’t want to get involved. He shouldn’t have stayed in the room to hear all of this.

Abernathy faced the duchess head-on. “Several people overheard your argument that morning, did they not?”

She nodded. “I’ve come to understand they did. But at the time I had no idea anyone was listening, though it doesn’t surprise me. We were not attempting to keep our voices low. We were both extremely agitated.”

Abernathy pushed his spectacles up on his nose once more. “Yes, your grace. My apologies, but we’re nearly finished. However, this next part may be rather difficult for you.”

She took a deep breath and folded her hands in her lap. “I’m ready, Mr. Abernathy.”

“Your grace,” Abernathy said. “Did you say anything else to your husband that morning that those listening would have taken … amiss?”

She wrung her hands with a vengeance. “I did.”

Abernathy paused to dip the quill back in the inkwell. “What did you say?”

Kate straightened her shoulders. “I said I’d see him dead before I remained married to him.”

CHAPTER 10

If the duchess’s statement shocked Abernathy, he betrayed his surprise by neither word nor deed. “Why did you say that, your grace?” was all the barrister asked. The man was skilled at his job, James had to admit, quite skilled.

Kate buried her face in her hands. “I didn’t mean it. Not literally at least. I was so ashamed, humiliated, angry. I reacted out of fear. But I didn’t mean it. And I certainly never would have done it.”

Mr. Abernathy laid down his quill, reached over, and placed his hand atop hers. “I understand, your grace.”

James watched the exchange through narrowed eyes. He didn’t know what to make of it. She wasn’t crying

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