Secret Brides [3] Secrets of a Scandalous Marriage by Valerie Bowman Page A

least.”
    “You didn’t enjoy your new position?”
    She looked up at the ceiling and searched her memory, trying to locate the right words. “I tried. I truly did. I tried everything to fit it, to be a good wife. But I just couldn’t, and I wasn’t. I was miserable and George was even more so. We’d made a terrible mistake.”
    Lord Medford’s brow remained furrowed. He shrugged. “Many couples find they aren’t a love match. It’s not uncommon.”
    She glanced away, her face heating fiercely. She should stop talking. She’d already said too much. “There were other … reasons.” She cleared her throat and shook her head. “But none of that matters now. None of it changes … anything. Including the reason why we’re here.” Oh God. Why was it seemingly so easy to talk to this man? He was a stranger. Did she have to remind herself of that again? And here she was sharing the intimate details of her life with him.
    He nodded. “I understand. And all I ask of you is that you write your story, your grace. And that you write the truth.”

 
    CHAPTER 8
     
    When Mr. Abernathy was ushered into the study, Lord Medford invited the man to sit. Lord Medford pulled out the other chair in front of his desk for Kate. She walked toward her seat slowly while Lord Medford nodded to the butler asking him to bring tea.
    Kate swallowed convulsively but kept her eyes trained on the barrister. “Thank you very much for agreeing to represent me.”
    “It shall be my pleasure, your grace,” Mr. Abernathy replied with a precise nod and a matter-of-fact smile. The man was older with a trimmed white beard, a lean, able build, and sharp, discerning eyes. He seemed like the type of man who didn’t miss a thing, and Kate had the awful feeling that she was being closely scrutinized.
    She cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders. “I assume you have … experience with this sort of thing.”
    Mr. Abernathy extracted a pair of silver-rimmed spectacles from his inside coat pocket and placed them on the tip of his nose. He sat up even more straight and regarded her over the rims of the spectacles. Oh excellent, more scrutiny. “I’m experienced, your grace, but the fact is there’s never been a case quite like … with these exact circumstances, and I—”
    “I understand,” she replied, putting up a hand. “You’ll do your best.”
    “I’m quite qualified,” Abernathy replied. “I assure you. I’m enrolled to practice before the House of Lords, which, of course, is where your trial will be held, should it come to that.”
    She furrowed her brow. “Should it come to that?”
    Abernathy bobbed his head in a brisk nod. “Yes, well, we hope for the best, of course, but we must plan for the worst.”
    “I see.” She swallowed. “What can I expect, then?”
    *   *   *
    James lifted his brows. Impressive, the way Kate was taking charge of the conversation. She seemed even more interested in her defense than he’d expected. Good. He’d been a bit worried that she’d be meek or even worse, act guilty, but the confidence with which she’d said, “I am innocent,” earlier had given him hope. There was definitely a fighter beneath her beautiful surface. One he’d witnessed when she’d demanded that he free her from the Tower. One that he wanted to see more of.
    Mr. Abernathy pulled a large stack of papers from his well-polished leather bag and set them on the desk in front of him. He consulted the stack, flipping through it and pulling out a small group. “In this case, Lord Medford’s solicitor has employed me directly. I will be in charge of your defense, leading the investigation on your behalf, and drawing up the necessary paperwork.”
    Kate shook her head and met James’s eyes. “I don’t understand. Hasn’t there already been an investigation?”
    Mr. Abernathy gave a curt nod. “The magistrate near your husband’s country house has performed his investigation, yes. And there was an