A Marriage Most Inconvenient (Inconvenient Matches Book #1)

Chapter 11: Vera & Seraphina

'Lady Eleanor, you are lovelier every time I see you.' Benedict greeted Minerva's guest by taking a sweeping bow, then placing a kiss on the hand of the Marchioness of Graham. His tone was light, his shoulders relaxed and a lazy, fond smile curved at his lips. He'd forgone his hat, his hair curling in that stupidly charming way she found incredibly appealing in spite of herself. He'd neglected to change his ruined shirt, which was obviously deliberate, and infuriatingly well done. Maybe he'd had the tiniest point when it came to this dressing appropriately nonsense, she admitted begrudgingly as she watched the Marchioness raise a disapproving eyebrow at him.

'It is good to see you, Rothbury.' She said with casual maternal affection, patting him casually on the shoulder in a gesture that seemed to come easily to her. 'You seem much recovered, your tragic state of dress aside.'

'My wife's household is hardly as efficient as yours, My Lady. The laundress doesn't know how to wash, the cook can barely muster an edible plate.' He shook his head in false dismay at her and offered her his arm. 'But can you blame her? Likely it is all still new to her. All of this-'He waved absently at the manor '-can be terribly overwhelming, if one lacks the wit and mental prowess to run a large household.'

Horse's arse. But there was no vehemence in the thought, it is exactly what she would have done.

'Any reason in particular that you are being uncharitable to your lovely wife, boy?' Lady Eleanor's voice clipped with stern rebuff. Minerva waited for Benedict to snap at her causal address, but he seemed entirely unfazed. Then she remembered that Benedict shared a close relationship with the Marchioness, as both he and Charlie had spent many school breaks with the Hastings during their years at Eton. God knew that their actual mother hadn't a maternal bone in her body, Lady Eleanor must have been a welcome change with a stern and severe manner that hid a loyal and protective heart.

'Uncharitable? Hardly.' Benedict continued warmly, exuding charm by the bucketful. 'It is just that in comparison to you, any woman would be found lacking in both intelligence and beauty.'

Lady Eleanor laughed and gave him a dismissive wave of her hand, clearly charmed by his words. Irritation sparked deep and insistent in her gut. Who on earth was the man before her and what had he done to her surly brute of a husband? Why was he all smiles and flirtation now when he had been nothing short of unpleasant this entire week? Why did she get the frosty, cynical Duke of Rothbury, and everyone else got to see the actual man underneath?

Ah, there was the crux of the problem, wasn't it? She was still an idealistic fool that believed in a middle-class concept like affection between spouses. It would have been easy enough to dislike him; the man was arrogant, high-handed, and proud, but earlier today something had shifted. She had always known that beneath all his thundering and scowling, he was a man that valued honor above all else, but hearing him today, impassioned and upset by the fact that he had not been doing right by his people had sparked something in her. A deeper aspect of respect, a sense of duty that her own soul resonated with.

This was a man who cared for those who depended on him. This was a man who had suffered a harrowing tragedy, and had walked to the altar not a week after it just because if he hadn't, his tenants would have suffered. He'd been courting a childhood friend before their wedding, and yet he had given her up to do his duty. A man who had the affection of two women she greatly esteemed; Ophelia and Lady Eleanor. A man who, despite all his grumbling, took her antics with grace. She knew what monsters men could be, a man like her sire would have raised his hands to her already. Her father had struck her mother for far less. Come what may, she knew in her heart that she need never fear Benedict like her mother had feared her own husband.