Free Never a Bride by Amelia Grey

missed the party of the Season. Viscount Stonehurst has returned, and all the debutantes’ heads are turning toward him. There’s already talk that his engagement to Miss Mirabella Whittingham, which has lasted over six years, will not last the Season. Hmm. One has to wonder why he stayed away so long. Could the reason be the long-standing rumor of a jealous mistress was true? And if so, will he go back to America for her? Word has it that no one actually saw him last evening with his patient, dutiful bride-to-be, but there is no doubt he was looking for her. I’m told he carelessly brushed off everyone who tried to speak to him when he departed, and Miss Whittingham left by way of the back garden. Hmm. If anyone has any details of what appears to be an unhappy reunion please let this one know and all will be told right here.
    — Lord Truefitt, Society’s Daily Column

    Camden threw the paper on the bed. He didn’t know why his mother had slipped it under his door. Surely she, of all people, knew he had no desire to read about himself in the “Society Column.” Their heavy-inked gossip was one of the reasons he went abroad. And that’s where he should have stayed. Responsibility be damned.
    He was a man with a purpose as he strode down the stairs of his parents’ town home the next morning. He needed to tell them immediately that the wedding was off, and that there would be no further talk of it. He didn’t care how the scandal sheets handled this broken betrothal.
    He’d been through it before. All those angry feelings stirred up from the past had knotted his stomach all night. Thank God he wasn’t in love with Miss Mirabella Whittingham as he had been with Hortense. Miss Whittingham had intrigued him with her freshness, her boldness, and her intelligence. That was all. Surely in all of London, he could find another lady as provoking and as invigorating as Miss Whittingham, who had not been as free with her affections.
    The thing that bothered him most about her was that even after he had seen her in the arms of another man, still she haunted his dreams. She had such an innocent appearance about her to be so strikingly bold.
    Two unfaithful fiancées. What were the odds that would happen to any man? Could no woman be faithful? Maybe he was destined to seek his pleasure in the arms of a paid mistress who was not interested in marriage or in the fact that he’d bear the title of earl one day. Perhaps he should leave it to Hudson to marry and produce a son and one day assume his father’s legacy.
    Imagine Miss Whittingham trying to lay the blame on him and make him feel like a schoolboy who needed his knuckles rapped for misbehaving, simply because he failed to notify her when he would be home to wed her. The chit had nerve.
    He strode into the dining room, but it was empty. He went through the doorway into the kitchen and found the maid. She told him his parents were in the garden. His parents’ lifestyle was another surprise to him. Something wasn’t right in their household. Their servants had been reduced to an old footman who could hardly get around on his own and two maids who took care of the cleaning, caring for the clothes and the cooking. Camden didn’t know how the two of them kept up with everything.
    He walked through the kitchen and into the cupboard room and stopped to look out the window at the small garden. His father sat in a chair reading the Times. His mother stood beside him arranging flowers in a vase that was placed in the center of the table. They were the perfect picture of a titled couple, when he didn’t look too closely.
    His father was dressed in a brown striped suit, a shirt that was no longer white and a faded, brown cravat. His mother wore a faded puce-colored morning dress that should have been discarded long ago. Her wide brimmed hat was pulled low over her eyes. The rice straw hat had crimped edges from years of use.
    Camden realized he had missed them. He was glad to be