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I will not stay.’

      ‘You are my wife, madam, you must do as I bid you.’

      ‘Must I?’ Blue eyes locked with green. Max saw the stubborn tilt to that dainty chin and knew she would defy him. She continued in a steely voice, ‘You may be a duke now, Your Grace, but unless you have the marriage certificate about you, the magistrate would have only your word against mine and the matter would not be resolved without a messy and very public brawl, which is exactly what you wish to avoid.’ Her eyes shifted to the door as the butler came in. ‘Snow will show you out. At present I have no idea where I shall go, but be assured I will keep you fully informed.’

      With the butler looking on Max was unable to reply. With no more than a nod he left her, acknowledging that she had won the first round of what was going to be a prolonged battle.

      * * *

      Ellen did not move as he left the room. She remained on her feet until she heard the soft thud of the front door. Only then did she collapse on to the nearest chair. She was shaking and wanted very much to burst into tears, but there was no time to succumb to such a weakness. There was much to do. A tiny, rebellious voice whispered that she could run away, set up home for herself and Jamie in another town, under another name, but Ellen knew that Max would hunt her down, not for her sake, but for Jamie’s, and if she pushed him too far he might well remove the boy from her care altogether.

      She rose and shook out her skirts with hands that were not quite steady. She would take Jamie somewhere they were not known and there she would await the Duke’s instructions.

      * * *

      A little over an hour later Ellen was in the morning room, writing yet another note regretfully cancelling an engagement, when Snow announced Mrs Arncliffe. Her heart sank when Georgie came in and dropped into a low curtsy.

      Ellen said bleakly, ‘He has told you.’

      ‘Yes, Your Grace.’

      ‘Pray, do not call me that. We are friends, or we were, until now.’ Ellen clasped her hands together. ‘You must think very ill of me, if Max told you how I deserted him.’

      There was nothing but sympathy in Georgie’s eyes when she replied, ‘He told me only there was a misunderstanding.’

      ‘Did he?’ said Ellen, surprised. ‘That is true, but I begin to think it was all on my part.’

      ‘I am sure you had good reason.’

      ‘I thought so, at the time.’ Ellen took a deep breath. ‘I thought Max had tricked me—that he was an imposter and the marriage was a sham. So I hid my disgrace, took another name and came here to live amongst you as a widow. It was wrong of me to deceive you so and I beg your pardon for it.’

      ‘I think I might have done the same, in your place.’

      Ellen managed a smile. ‘Bless you for saying so. Will you not sit down?’

      ‘Thank you.’

      Ellen was gratified that Georgie chose to sit close, as she had always done. As if their friendship had not changed.

      ‘I had to come,’ Georgie said quietly. ‘Max told me that you were planning to leave immediately.’

      ‘I think I must.’ Ellen glanced at the little writing table. ‘I was going to pen a note to you, crying off from our walk this afternoon. I am sure you will appreciate there is a great deal to be done.’

      Georgie’s hand fluttered. ‘I have come to ask you. To beg you, not to go.’ Her eyes, heavy with sadness, flickered to Ellen’s face. ‘I have no right to ask it of you, but you said yourself we are friends and it is as a friend that I am here. Max came to see me, to warn me.’ She sighed. ‘You know what Harrogate is, Ellen. Your dancing with the Duke last night is already the talk of the town. If you leave Harrogate now, within days of your return, there is bound to be speculation. People will gossip, the resemblance between Jamie and the Duke will be remarked upon—it will be impossible to keep it all from Frederick and if he asks Max direct—’ She broke off, biting her lip. ‘Fred loves the Duke like a brother. He would be deeply shocked and distressed that Max kept such a secret from him.’ She hunted for her handkerchief. ‘I am very much afraid that he will take it very badly and any upset now lays him low.’

      Ellen stretched out and touched her arm. ‘Oh, my dear.’

      ‘It was wrong to let Frederick think that Max would marry Clare, but you see, it gave him such comfort to think that his little sister would be established when he was no longer here to look out for her. We none of us thought it could do any harm, to humour a dying man. And he is dying, Ellen. You saw how tired and drawn he looked last night.’ Georgie wiped a tear from her cheek. ‘Dr Ingram called today and says it cannot continue much longer.’

      ‘I am so very sorry, Georgie, but—’

      ‘Please, Ellen, let me give you my reasons for asking you to stay. Believe me, I do not ask it lightly. Frederick is very fond of you and would take your leaving us now very hard. He worries about me, you see, and says often and often that he is glad I have such a friend as yourself to help me through the dark times that lie ahead. Also, Max is afraid that if Frederick found that he had been deceiving him all these years it would break his heart. It would certainly spoil their friendship, which would be very sad, for there is no time to rebuild the trust that has always existed between them. And, finally, if you were to remain here as Mrs Furnell, and to meet with the Duke, Fred might see for himself that Max and Clare will not make a match of it. He would not expect them to marry if the Duke’s affections are engaged elsewhere. He only suggested it in the first place because he knew Max had set his face against marriage.’ She stopped, taking a moment to collect herself. ‘Ellen, I know as well as you that Harrogate will be scandalised when the truth comes out and I quite understand that you do not wish to live a lie, but you have been deceiving us these past four years, have you not? Would it be so very hard to continue the charade for just a little longer?’

      Ellen looked into the anxious eyes fixed so beseechingly upon her and she felt her resolve weakening. She gazed down at her clasped hands, gazing at the plain gold ring, the symbol of her own lies.

      ‘Very well,’ she said at last. ‘You and Frederick have been such good friends to me that I cannot refuse.’ Ellen raised her head. ‘I gave you my word I would be here when you needed me, did I not? I will honour that promise.’

      She could almost see the weight lifting from Georgie’s shoulders.

      ‘Oh, Ellen, thank you. I was so very much afraid you would despise me, knowing what we had done.’

      ‘Despise you?’ Ellen shook her head. ‘How can I blame you and the Duke for humouring your husband, when I have been guilty of a much greater deceit? No, no, we must do this for Frederick’s sake, I quite see that.’ She reached out and took Georgie’s hands in her own. ‘Now, go you home. It is getting late, so I think perhaps we should cancel our walk this afternoon, but tomorrow morning you must send Charlotte to play with Jamie, as usual.’

      ‘Of course, and you must take tea with me later in the day, as we do every Sunday.’ As they both rose Georgie put her arms about Ellen. ‘How shall I ever thank you?’

      ‘By remaining my good friend,’ said Ellen, returning the embrace. ‘I fear I shall be in need of your support. Perhaps, too, you would tell Max of my decision?’ She gave a rueful smile. ‘I confess my pride rebels against informing him of this volte face.’

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