Page 53 of A Necessary Wife

“Not you,” Stapleton snapped. “But it is you whom I must speak to.”

Amelia braced herself. “Yes, Your Grace?”

“You and my son… parted on bad terms last night.”

She gulped. “Yes.”

“I hope in his absence, you will choose to stay a while longer,” the duke murmured, wincing.

Amelia frowned. “What do you mean, in his absence?”

“I’ve just been told he left the estate unexpectedly last night. Didn’t you know about him going?”

Amelia shrank back in shock that Chatham had gone and left her behind over a moment of drunken madness on his part. She swallowed down a scream. “Did he take the children with him?”

The duke’s eyes narrowed. “No. They remain in the nursery, and are unaware so far.”

“I see.” She shuffled her feet, acutely embarrassed that the duke had to be the one to tell her that her husband had fled their marriage. “Where has he gone?” she asked, voice shaking with anger.

“I honestly don’t know,” the duke said. “He left in the dead of night. On horseback after the ball had ended. Damn foolish thing to do. He’ll break his neck—or I will.”

“Oh.” Amelia’s spirits sank even lower than they had been last night. She looked toward the manor and felt sick to her stomach. “He said nothing to me. He never does. He never will…”

The duke sighed. “You’re upset.”

“Of course, I’m upset!” she snapped at him. “He doesn’t trust me or any woman to remain faithful after what his first wife did to him.”

The duchess put an arm around her back and hugged her. “But you deserve his faith.”

She threw off the duchess’ embrace and turned away, unable to contain her anger over him and the world. Chatham claimed to dislike scandal, but he would be the cause of one—not her. She looked back at the duke. “I was quite content to remain a spinster forever, until he convinced me I’d make an adequate wife.”

The duke’s brow rose. “Only adequate?”

She bit her tongue, appalled she’d revealed so much out loud but unable to take it back. The duke appeared amused by her outburst and watched her in silence.

Amelia strove for calm. But she could not find it easily. Not this time.

She faced the duke and he nodded.

The duke turned to the duchess. “You’re needed at the manor, my dear,” he murmured. “Your special guests have arrived.”

More guests? That was all Amelia needed today.

“Perhaps a cup of tea will soothe her pride while she decides what to do,” the duchess mused. “I’ll arrange it.”

Amelia ground her teeth. Tea would never prevent a scandal, no matter how well meaning it might be offered. She scowled at the duke. “There is nothing to be done about me. And it is not my pride that is hurt, but my⁠—”

She bit her tongue.

Hard.

The duchess came forward again. “Your what, my dear?”

It was her heart that hurt so badly, but she shook her head denying Chatham had such a great hold over her. “My patience.”

“Of course, my dear,” the duchess said softly. “We understand perfectly.”

Amelia had not thought a marriage of convenience could cause so much grief and confusion so soon. It had seemed a simple undertaking at the beginning: marry Chatham, take charge of his household and his children, share his bed to conceive—and one day they would be a family.