[The Inconvenient Matches series is comprised entirely of stand alone novels that can be read in any order]
Forced into marriage by duty and obligation, The Duke and Duchess of Rothbury parted ways a week after saying their vows under the explicit u...
To call someone out: Challenge to a duel, typically when one's honor is brought into question.
Hoyden: A girl or woman of saucy, boisterous, or carefree behavior
The Bard: Shakespeare
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She was going to kill him. Slowly and painfully. Would they imprison a Duchess for mariticide? Probably. Would it be worth it? Certainly. Benedict William Montgomery's days were limited if Vera had anything to say about it. She leaned back into her chair to contemplate his demise, playing with the letter opener as she seethed with irritation. The sharp blade tapped against the mahogany of her desk, leaving small scratches.
What had he done to earn her ire, you may ask? Was it the conversation about children? No, indeed. Vera was glad her stance about that particular topic was out in the open. Had he done something highhanded and managed to annoy her? Again, that was untrue.
Benedict had signed his death warrant by acting like a true, unfailingly polite, gracious gentleman.
The events of the previous afternoon went something like this: While Vera had been talking her long-winded walk back to Hartley in order to cool her hurt feelings, one of her neighbors had come to call. As she held the most significant title in the general vicinity, it was not unusual for her to receive guests that were looking to make a stronger connection with a significant family. She endeavored to attend any function she was invited to but had not been accepting invitations during her current stay because she did not want to field questions about her husband or, God forbid, Hertfordshire. Nor did she think her snob of a husband would want to attend whatever modest events the people here could put together and she did not want to appear as if he considered himself above them.
The reason her neighbor, a Mrs. Celia Farthing, had come calling was to invite the Duke and Duchess of Rothbury to a ball she was throwing in honor of her newly wedded grandson and his bride who had come to stay with her before leaving for their honeymoon. In spite of her protestations that it would be a very humble event, nothing quite as fancy as a London ballroom, and that they would be the only people of note in attendance, Benedict had accepted the invitation on their behalf.
The problem? Celia Farthing was the maternal grandmother to one Sir Richard Penn. The newly married, former lover of Lady Minerva Catherine Montgomery, exalted Duchess of Rothbury. The very reason, indeed, that she had fled to Cornwall in the first place. How dare he?! The very gall of him to bring his wife to the place they met when he usually spent his time in London or Hertfordshire! Perhaps it was Richard she ought to kill! Or, if she was going to the gallows in any case, why not kill them both?!
Her life was a Shakespearian comedy.
'Er, would you mind putting away the letter opener? And keeping any and all sharp objects out of reach?' Benedict stood at the door to their study, awkwardly clutching at a tray.
