A Marriage Most Inconvenient (Inconvenient Matches Book #1)

Chapter 2: Ben

Benedict William Montgomery tried his best to not snap at his closest friends as they lampooned him for his unfortunate tumble into the Thames as they sat around a table in their preferred club. They, after all, did not know the sheer fear he had felt as the icy waters had engulfed him, the way the panic crawled up his throat even now. They did not know the amount of posturing it had taken to pretend that getting on a boat hadn't taken every ounce of ducal willpower that he had. He just scowled and played a card from his hand. To his right, his cousin, Lord Phillip Montgomery, made an appreciative sound at the deft hand Benedict had played.

'Rothbury, I don't think we will ever forget the sight of you tumbling off the bloody railing. I bet you smelt for days.' Chuckled the Marquis of Graham, who had attended Eton at the same time as Benedict and now often championed the same causes in the House of Lords. That did not prevent Graham from spearing Benedict with his wit.

'I dare say poor Camilla did not come within ten feet of you.' The Duke of Rutland offered a jab that had him wincing. It was true, his mistress had refused to see him until he was once again roaming through society. It shouldn't have grated, he knew full well that she used him for his money and the access to fine establishments that he afforded her, just as she provided him with physical release without the entrappings of an affair or, God forbid, marriage. Still, there was something almost mercenary about how easily she would forget him if he died. If he were the sort of man who needed human company, he might have wondered at the sheer lack of connection he shared with anyone other than the three men in front of him. He grimaced as he played his next card.

Even his Duchess had written to him, for the second time in the six years of their marriage. Sent him flowers! And his mistress had acted like he hadn't existed. It was...distasteful. And he was already feeling a little contemplative over his life choices following his accident.

At the thought of his wife's letter, a lazy smile tugged at his lips. Just like her first letter, this one was highly amusing and particularly strange. He had read it thrice and yet it had made little sense to him.

Husband,

No feigned terms of affection, he had noted. Good, she had moved past her notions of romantic, loving marriages. Not that he had given her much of an option in that regard.

I have heard of your most unfortunate accident and I write this letter partly to ask after your health, partly to accept blame for my role in your accident.

That had made him start. She had been nowhere near London, she hadn't come to town since their marriage. It had been close to three years since they had even seen each other, six since they had exchanged words.

You may wonder, husband mine, how I could have orchestrated such a feat all the way from Silverton Abbey? Well, I had a horrid day and I was cursing you, naturally, for my horrid day was all because I decided to take some of your advice. But that is neither here nor there.

In the throes of my passion, I wished that you would fall into the Thames and catch the worst cold of your life. I am truly remorseful about that, I shall hope you will be kinder if the need ever arises for you to curse me.

He had been unable to control the bark of laughter. His wife remained a peculiar thing.

I should also caution you that I wished you would take a humiliating fall when speaking at the House of Lords, so if you have any plans for grand speeches you may want to be careful. The Almighty seemed very indulgent when I wished badly for you, I do hope you can forgive me.

Your Wife,

Minerva.

She had written and cut out 'Vera', which was a pet name he recalled Charlie using for her.