A Marriage Most Inconvenient (Inconvenient Matches Book #1)

Chapter 25: Ben

Jesus in Heaven, his wife's estate was magnificent. She didn't even ride, yet her staff maintained the riding course particularly well. There was a riding course with fences and hedges for jumping, open fields for a good gallop, and a shallow stream running through, which he assumed eventually flowed into the lake he had been avoiding. The flat green planes and a few rolling hills, the sun rising over a mercifully clear day and the gentle breeze invigorated Ben. After these weeks of being unable to ride, the back of his mount felt like heaven. He spurned Haider to go faster and faster, the sound of hooves thundering behind him told him that Needham and Ophelia were on his heels. Haider leaped over the trunk of a falling tree as exhilaration pumped through Benedict. He loved how his heart beat faster after a particularly hard ride, the burn in his muscles from keeping his seat.

As they crested a hill, all three slowed to a stop to enjoy the view. A little distance away, he could see his wife talking to two other people, her back to him. Beside him, Needham reached into the pocket of his riding habit and pulled out a flask.

'Oh, I truly wish you wouldn't drink that vile stuff when we have much finer spirits at home.' Ophelia said in protest. 'Why you would purposely drink such a common beverage, I will never understand.'

'I'm just finishing off what's left from what I got at the village taproom during our travels. Good or bad, one must never let a drink go to waste.' Needham winked at his fussing wife and shot a look at Ben that said Women, eh?

'If it is gin that my sister objects to, I would agree.' Ben said, unable to keep the ducal reprimand from his voice. 'Not only because it truly is a vile drink but because my wife distinctly dislikes the smell. I would urge you not to partake in your stay here.'

'Of course, Your Grace. Though I confess, I developed something of a taste for it in my university days when my father still controlled my purse strings. Cheap alcohol is better than no alcohol to a young lad.' He chuckled, though his posture had stiffened at the commanding tone in Ben's voice. 'There was no need for you to embarrass me in front of your brother, wife.'

Again, Benedict felt that fissure of disquiet at the steel in Needham's statement.

'I doubt she sought to embarrass you, Needham, no need to take it so personally.'

'Of course not.' He reached for Ophelia's hand and dropped a kiss on it. 'It is her wifely duty to improve both myself and my home. I do believe Ophelia and I shall head home now, I feel rather tired.'

Benedict nodded in approval, shaking off that feeling of anxiety, and spurned his horse towards Minerva. Clothed in spring green with a matching bonnet, she looked the very picture of feminine vitality. Her back was still to him, as she chatted away. The couple talking to her were clearly some of the farmers that lived on the estate, if their dirt-streaked clothing and sun-browned skin were any indication. As he neared, she turned to him with a smile. In her arms, she held a squirmy bundle swathed in a cloth. A small red face peaked out at stared at him assessingly. A baby.

His wife...and a babe. Why the devil had the sight of it felt like a shot to the chest?

She cooed something into the child's ear as it gurgled and laughed, extending one chubby pink arm toward her nose.

Jesus.

He staggered on his dismount, his chest tight and head a little dizzy. On slightly unsteady legs he approached them.

Babies. Not at all an uncommon sight. There were hundreds of them born every day in England. In fact, some would argue that there were more babies in England than could be fed. Why this particular one should affect him so was lost on him.

'Oh, Rothbury, come look!' She beamed at him, using his title in company as propriety dictated. He did not care much for propriety these days.

Fuck.