Free Mistress by Marriage by Maggie Robinson Page B

obeyed his parents, firmly convinced they knew what was best for him. They’d not gone wrong with Alice, as comfortable a wife as a man could have. Why, if he hadn’t married her, his handsome sullen son and heir would not be sitting in front of him, prattling nonsense about his cousin Amelia, of all things.
    Edward interrupted. “You have explained the reason you sought out my estranged wife, Ned, despite my express, explicit orders forbidding you to contact her. A barely satisfactory explanation, fueled by foolishness and an excess of drink. One must choose one’s friends carefully, Ned. A Christie examines the character of an acquaintance, not just the convenience. I am aware Rory Carmichael is a school chum, but I wouldn’t choose him as a friend for you.”
    “Rory has plenty of character! It’s his father who’s at fault with a whore on Jane Street. I thought Caro—” Ned flushed, apparently realizing he hadn’t thought at all.
    “You do realize you put her in an awkward situation, and breached her hospitality most egregiously. I expect you will write her a letter to apologize.”
    Ned shifted in his straight-back chair. Edward had purposely told the boy to bring it over to sit on. He wasn’t worthy yet of the comfortable leather chair just a few feet away. “Why can’t I apologize in person? Take flowers or something.”
    “She already has a garden, Ned. Quite a fine one. Your flowers would be superfluous. You’re not to have further contact with her. I forbid it. Again, and this time you will listen.”
    Ned looked mulish. “I don’t see why. She’s very nice, even if you don’t like her.”
    “I like her well enough.” Edward looked down at his desk blotter, remembering the morning. How very inadequate the word like was. “But we don’t suit as man and wife. I haven’t told anyone yet, but I’ve resolved to divorce her. You can see why a visit from you would be unwelcome.”
    Ned’s complexion reverted to yesterday’s hangover pallor. “Divorce! But you can’t! A Christie cannot get divorced!”
    Edward sat back in his leather chair, surprised at the vehemence of his son. “I am fully aware of the scandal that will result, which is why I am taking you into my confidence to prepare for it. It will not be easy—for any of us.”
    “But Caro—she’ll be a complete outcast!”
    “Divorce is a mere formality. She is already proscribed from polite society.”
    “By you! Because you bought her that damn house!”
    Edward’s hand curled around a glass paperweight. “Edward Allerton Christie, do not use that tone with me.”
    Ned stood up, shaking. “Well, it’s true! If she was unfaithful, it’s because you’re the coldest man in creation! And I’ll not be saddled with Amelia in two years, because I am not cold. You can tell Uncle Roger that I’d rather marry a Jane Street courtesan than his flat-chested lackwit! Have you ever talked to Cousin Amelia? She’s positively insipid!”
    Edward stared at his son with icy hauteur. “I fail to see why you keep inserting Amelia into this conversation. Her father and I have a long-standing arrangement. You will do your duty to the family.”
    “Just as you’re doing yours by dragging the Christie name through the mud?” Suddenly, Ned grinned. “Wait a minute! Uncle Roger will be so scandalized he’ll break the betrothal contract. He’s even higher in the instep than you are! Yes. Get your divorce. You have my blessing. You’ll have your freedom, and I’ll have mine!” He let out a childish whoop and practically ran out of the study.
    “Neddie! Ned! Come back here! We are not finished!” Edward heard the reverberating slam of the front door. Hell and damnation . He pinched the headache back from between his brows. How had he sired such an impetuous imbecile? If Alice had lived, her children would be circumspect. Respectful. He’d never caned Ned in his life, and was regretting it. His fingers twitched to do so.
    It was