Lady in Red by Máire Claremont

abandon you in this, Mary. I’ve made up my mind.”
    The smile faded, replaced by dead acceptance. “I won’t bring you happiness, Edward.”
    “I don’t seek happiness.”
    “Then what is it you do seek?”
    “Freedom,” he said, feeling the need for it so deep in his gut his body burned. “From the past. From memory.”
    And as he looked down upon her white, exhausted face, he saw recognition . . . and realized that that was what she was seeking, too.
    Her Grace Clare Darrel née Ederly exited St. Paul’s to the peals of glorious, booming silver bells. A crowd of onlookers as large as that at any royal wedding surrounded the flower-bedecked ducal coach that would escort her to her wedding breakfast.
    An elated smile tugged at her lips, accompanied by a large dose of pride that sent her heart swelling. She had brought her family back from the brink of ruin by marrying a man almost three times her age. But such considerations were nothing when the man was a duke, especially one of such standing and distinguished demeanor.
    She beamed at the large crowd of eclectic Londoners that had come to see the new duchess, glorying at how many stood upon the steps. It had been some time since she had known such delight. For years, she had lived under the fierce commands of her father, and now she was free. Finally, she was going to be a powerful woman in her own right. Nothing was going to stop her from being the most popular or influential duchess since Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire.
    “Why didn’t you wear the diamonds, my love?”
    Clare tore her gaze away from the adoring crowd and gazed up at her handsome husband. “My mother requested that I wear her pearls. She was wed in them.”
    He smiled. “That was most devoted of you.”
    She bowed her head in acknowledgement. Indeed, there had been no more obedient daughter than she.
    “But now you are my wife and as such you shall devote yourself to me and my wishes.”
    His words were warm, but she couldn’t help feeling the censure in them. “Of course, Your Grace. Do forgive me.”
    “Forgiveness granted.” His fingers tightened about her arm, pressing into her soft flesh just a degree more than possessive doting. “Always do as I ask, and you shall know only the greatest happiness in the world.”
    “Of course, my husband.” She smiled up at him as sweetly as she knew how, certain it would be simple to please the old man with her smiles and pleasant nature. Surely. Her mother had assured that the duke had lavished his last wife with untold treasures. He would doubtless do the same with her. She could hardly keep her excitement at bay.
    “Now to the wedding breakfast,” he said, his eyes shining down on her with all the love any girl could ever hope to see in a husband’s eyes. “We mustn’t keep the royal family waiting.”
    Clare nearly laughed aloud with delight. She barely could believe the Prince and Princess of Wales had attended her wedding! All of Clare’s friends were filled with envy. Happiness was finally hers for the having. At last, she would be the woman she had always dreamed of becoming.

Chapter 10
    T he books towered all around her. Hundreds of them. Mary stared in awe at the beautifully leather-bound copies of more novels than she could ever have imagined, stacked carefully on the mahogany shelves. This must have been twice the size of her father’s library.
    Several titles jumped out at her. Pride and Prejudice , Les Misérables , Tom Jones , Wuthering Heights , Villette . . .
    How long had it been since she had slipped a book into her hands and vanished into a story? Years. So many years and stories lost. Hesitating, her fingers curled into her palms, aching to touch them, but unsure whether she should.
    She’d almost stayed in her room, but after being locked away for so long, she couldn’t ignore her new relative freedom. Slipping down Edward’s wide stairs had been thrilling, and the first room she’d found was this one.
    A