The British Heartthrob’s Discarded Mistress Read Online Marian Tee

Categories Genre: Alpha Male Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
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When it became obvious Mrs. Emerson had no plans of taking off the pearls, Jenny stammered, “Those are Miss Mary’s—-”

Flushing at the look in the young maid’s eyes, she spat, “Mind your own business.”

Like all of the other servants in the duke’s home, Jenny was afraid of the head housekeeper. They had all seen how good Mrs. Emerson was at pretending to be a sweet old woman whenever the duke was around. It was like being under the thumb of a female version of Dr. Jekyll, but in this case it was the duke’s absence that turned Mrs. Emerson into something as hideous as Mr. Hyde.

“Well? Why are you still standing there?” Mrs. Emerson snapped.

“You must return that to where you took it,” Jenny said bravely. “It’s not yours and—-”

“And what?” Mrs. Emerson sneered as she took off the necklace and started twirling it around her fingers in a taunting gesture. “You’ll go and tell the duke about it? Or maybe Miss Mary?”

The older woman cackled. “Stupid bitch. That American whore will never come back.” And it was true. Miss Camilla had said so herself in her earlier text, which included instructions for Mrs. Emerson to oversee cleaning. The lady wanted the house spic and span because the next time the duke returned, it would be with Miss Camilla in his arms, his engagement ring on her finger.

Something about the woman’s tone made Jenny swallow in trepidation. She sounded so sure. Had the fight between the duke and Ms. Mary been that serious?

“I don’t believe you—-”

“You don’t have to. Once the true lady of the house comes to live with us, you shall be the first one I’ll ask her to sack. She hates nosybodies like I do, and you’re the worst of the lot.”

“At least I’m not a liar like you!” Jenny held her breath the moment the words slipped out, but Mrs. Emerson only cackled once more.

“It’s true, what you say. I lie all the time, and I get paid for it, too,” Mrs. Emerson said smugly.

“That’s quite interesting to hear,” a voice suddenly said.

Mrs. Emerson froze at the sound, and she could feel herself shaking in her shoes when Jenny gasped, “Milady!”

Please let it be Ms. Camilla—-

But all her hopes were crushed when the next person to appear by the doorway of Mary’s bedroom was instead the Dowager Duchess of Flanders, and behind the lady was her husband, Warren Wellesley.

“I...I...” She couldn’t think of any excuse to explain the pearls in her hands or the words she had just foolishly spoken to Jenny.

“It’s all right, Mrs. Emerson.”

It was a very gentle voice. But somehow, the gentleness was what made Alyssa Wellesley’s voice even more frightening, and Mrs. Emerson began to wail in earnest.

“Poor woman.”

Mrs. Emerson wailed more loudly. It was like having a beautiful witch talk to her even while she was being eyed like she was about to be the witch’s next meal.

“P-please d-don’t send me to jail.” Mrs. Emerson threw herself down on her knees. She tried to wrap her arms around the dowager duchess’ legs, but it was suddenly the former duke standing in front of her.

Shock caused Mrs. Emerson to lose her balance and fall back, legs up in the air.

Outside the room but able to see it all, Jenny quickly covered her mouth to smother a laugh. She knew it was impolite to laugh at her elders, but this time she hoped God would forgive her for doing so. Surely this was proper justice, for all the abuse they had suffered under Mrs. Emerson’s authority?

When Mrs. Emerson opened her eyes, it was to see Alyssa’s beautiful, merciless face looking down on her. It was enough to set her crying again.

“Enough.”

Mrs. Emerson quickly shut up.

“Now. My husband and I have heard more than enough to have you persecuted. I may consider a more lenient punishment if you were to answer me quickly and honestly.”

“Anything,” Mrs. Emerson swore zealously as she forced herself up. It took a lot of effort, and by the time she was up, she was tired, only able to remain seated upright on the floor.

Alyssa glanced at her husband before asking quietly, “Is Wilson Daughtry in league with his daughter with whatever she’s planning?”

“It’s all his plan, milady.”

Warren bit out, “If I find out you’re lying—-”

Mrs. Emerson shook her head profusely. “No, milord. It’s all true.” She took out her phone from her pocket and thrust it to the former duke’s hand. “It’s all in there. You’ll see, I get texts from Miss Camilla and Mr. Daughtry, too.”

Taking it like he had just been handed a snake that could bite him anytime, Warren slowly scanned the messages.

A disappointing sense of betrayal threatened to crush him when he saw Wilson’s number, which he had long memorized in case of emergency.

“I’m sorry, my love.” Alyssa knew just by seeing her husband’s drawn face that he had realized the same truth she had known long ago. “If it’s any consolation,” she said softly, “I think he’s just crazily convinced his daughter deserves to be Rathe’s wife and he deserves to have a duke for an in-law.”


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