Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Warren shook his head.
“You don’t agree?” Alyssa asked.
“No. It’s not that.” Lines of worry appeared on Warren’s forehead as he met his wife’s gaze. “We must contact Rathe right away.” He handed the housekeeper’s phone to Alyssa. “I just read Camilla’s last text. It seems she’s somehow convinced Rathe to enter into a fake engagement with her. We must find a way to stop it before Rathe ends up breaking Mary’s heart for no reason.”
Chapter Twelve
Pick up the phone, Rathe Wellesley. For your own bloody sake, pick up the damn phone. Warren glared at his iPhone’s screen as his son’s phone continued to ring, willing the fates to help him and make his son realize this was the most important call in his life that he was ignoring.
His gaze momentarily strayed to the road, his frown worsening when he saw the gridlock ahead. “Find an alternative route,” he told his driver. “I don’t care what you do, just make sure we get to the hotel as soon as possible.”
“Yes, milord.”
Warren turned to his wife, who was busy trying to contact Mary. “Any luck so far?”
She shook her head. “I’m afraid, Warren. What if we don’t get to talk to them in time?”
“Shh. Worrying will not get us anywhere.” He pulled her close, pressing a kiss on his wife’s forehead. “Whatever happens, we’ll find a way to make things right.”
Releasing her, he asked tersely, “But are you certain it’s better that I’m the one who speaks with Rathe? You know how the two of us are—-”
“If we switch roles, do you think you’ll have a better chance talking to Mary?”
He grimaced. “Probably worse.”
“Then we have no choice.”
****
Warren: Son, please answer the phone. I need to talk to you.
Over a dozen similar messages followed, making Rathe frown in concern. Clicking on his father’s name on speed dial, his call went through immediately, and his concern deepened when he heard his father’s anxious voice from the other end.
“Thank God you answered,” Warren exclaimed.
The words had Rathe pausing in the middle of shrugging into his evening jacket. “What’s wrong? Is it Mother?”
“No. She’s safe.”
He hesitated. “Then...it’s you?”
“No. We are both all right.” Warren took a deep breath. “I hope I’m mistaken about this, but...are you planning to have a fake engagement?”
Rathe stilled. “How did you know? Did Wilson tell you?”
The questions were enough to make Warren swore. “Don’t do it.”
His voice chilled. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Does it matter how I found out? The point is, you mustn’t go through with it!”
Rathe’s face hardened. “Relax, Father. It’s not going to be with Mary. Thanks to you, I don’t have the right to be with her—-”
Warren cut his son off, saying grimly, “You do.”
“If only that were true, Father. But you see, I can’t be selfish as you are—-” He broke off, the sheer unfairness of the situation suddenly getting to him. Why couldn’t he have the same chance as his father? Why couldn’t he have the right to be with Mary without risking having his mother become a pariah?
“Rest assured, Father, I’m not going to be as selfish as you were.”
“No, dammit, listen to me—-”
“My engagement with Camilla will be pushing through, and I may even marry her for real, just so I can be certain that I will never be tempted to go back to...” He found himself unable to say her name, feeling he had lost the right to do so.
“Son? Rathe?” But it was too late, Rathe ending the call.
Slowly, he turned to face his wife. “I’m sorry, Aly. I fucked up. I didn’t get to warn our son.”
****
“I can’t thank you enough for this, Cam.” Mary blinked back tears as she gazed down at the invitation Rathe’s friend had handed her. This was really it, she thought. This was her one final chance to make the duke take a chance on them.
“What are friends for?” Camilla asked lightly.
Mary smoothed a hand over her silk gown, another thing she had Camilla to thank for. “You’re like a godmother.”
A tinkling laugh. “I’ll do my best.” She feigned a frown. “I’m just sorry I don’t have a clutch or bag to lend you.” She did, of course, but her plan would work better if Rathe had no way of contacting Mary.
“Oh, it’s okay,” Mary hurriedly assured her companion. “I’m not expecting any important call anyway.”
That’s what you think now, Camille thought, but wait until I have your heart crushed into pieces. No matter how much you want to talk to the duke, you won’t be able to.
Checking her watch, she realized that it was finally time to put all her plans into action. Turning to Mary with a smile, she asked, “Shall we go?”
Leaving the hotel room she had reserved under her name, she and Mary took the lift to reach the ballroom encompassing the hotel’s entire fourth floor. The party was already in full swing by the time they arrived, and after waving to a couple she knew, Camilla whispered to Mary, “I need to find my father. Is it okay if I leave you here for a moment?”