Page 5 of A Necessary Wife

“Why not before?”

“They are visiting with my father at Stapleton Manor, and we will collect them on the way to your new home,” he told her, and then held out his hand again. “I am impressed with the garden you created here but cannot wait to see what you create for us in Devon.”

Amelia held firm a moment longer, then put her hand in Chatham’s and shook on their deal, hoping she was not making a grave mistake by trusting him to keep a promise.

CHAPTER TWO

“Whoa, boy,” Milo crooned, when his horse would have continued its plodding path toward the Stapleton stables, where feed, water, and a warm stall awaited the tired beast. He patted the animal fondly and dismounted on the drive before the brightly lit manor house, and glanced behind him down the empty, long drive.

Milo had spent the whole of the day in the saddle, determined to reach Stapleton Manor before his new bride to share his good news with his father, the Duke of Stapleton. Thankfully, the afternoon weather had been perfect for riding…and judging by the sound of laughter, it appeared the night was perfect for his father to be hosting a party he’d not known about, as well.

He wasn’t expected tonight and had no invitation to attend this party, so his arrival and news were bound to cause a great stir.

Milo tossed the reins over the horse’s head and led him toward the front steps. At the base, he dropped them and forced a spring to his stride as he climbed flagstone steps to ring the bell beside the great oak doors.

The sound would ring out loud enough to alert a servant to his arrival over the din of the party taking place. He stepped back, removed his hat, and raked a hand through his hair, nervous, but also glad to have arrived well before his bride. His news was a delicate matter to be discussed privately, but he was satisfied he’d made the right decision.

Amelia was perfect for him. She would have nothing but honesty from him.

It wasn’t long before the Stapleton butler, Mr. Brown, cracked open the large doors, his eyes wide with surprise in a wrinkled face at seeing Milo standing there.

“My lord, we had no idea to expect you,” Brown whispered, gesturing wildly behind him. A footman immediately slipped outside and rushed to take up the reins of Milo’s tired horse to take him away.

“Well, that was my intention, Brown,” Milo promised, smiling at the shorter man. “I wish to see my father.”

“He will be delighted to see you, of course.” The butler hesitated. “But it has been a difficult week and…”

Milo paused. “Nothing serious, I trust?”

“No, no. We are currently overrun with guests, and other matters demand his attention.”

Intrigued, Milo turned toward the tired horse, removed his saddle bag himself, and then flicked a coin to the footman. “Take him to the stables, if you please, and have him spoiled, sir,” Milo called. “We rode a long way today.”

“Of course, my lord,” the footman promised, rushing away toward the stables with the horse in tow.

Milo strode inside, following the butler into the hall. Stapleton Manor itself did not appear changed during his absence. Everything was exactly where he expected it to be, and he liked that. The new duchess, Gillian, had still not put her stamp on the estate or manor house by moving things around unnecessarily, it seemed. The entrance hall was exactly how he’d left it after the holiday greenery had been taken out.

He handed off his hat and greatcoat to the butler and straightened his waist coat. “Please let my father know that I’ll be waiting to see him in his study.”

“Of course, my lord. Would you care for refreshments while you wait?”

“Don’t trouble yourself. I can find a decanter of something and a glass in the usual places,” he promised.

The butler nodded and scurried off into the nearest servant staircase, while Milo walked down the dark hall to the study. There was a fire burning there, and he reached for the decanter of brandy kept behind the nearest bookshelf to ease the pain of his long ride.

He filled a glass and took a sip, but he was anxious about how his news would be received. Father should be pleased, but he would be surprised by his choice of bride no doubt.

He glanced around, noticing it was rather quiet.

That hadn’t ever been the case when he had lived here as a young man. But at that time, his siblings were roaming the halls at all hours, creating chaos wherever they went, arguing with each other as they played silly games, and making a damn mess.

His siblings had married and moved away now. Stapleton reminded him of his small estate in Devon, a place far enough away from everyone, where the children had nursed their grief…and Milo let his rage simmer for the last few years.

The thought of his first marriage, and how it had ended, made his shoulders rise with renewed tension even now, four years later.

He downed his drink, determined that he would think no more of those difficult days. Not that the marriage had been in trouble at first. He had, of course, been deliriously happy to be newlywed and in love with his beautiful bride.

But the bloom of love and devotion had worn off for his wife quite quickly, and she’d betrayed him with other men soon after his heir was born—and had done so repeatedly in her last years, he’d later learned. He’d spent years trying to forget his first wife’s betrayal.