“How could I say no when he was so adamant that he could not live without me?”
“But she’s a nobody,” Miss Chudleigh exclaimed, clearly recovered from her supposed faint.
He placed himself before Matilda, angry at Miss Chudleigh’s utter rudeness. “Don’t you dare speak of my wife like that,” he growled.
Miss Chudleigh lifted a trembling hand to her lips. “You cannot be serious.”
“He’s always serious,” Matilda murmured, rubbing his arm to soothe his temper. “If you truly knew him, you’d have already learned never to question his decisions.”
William glanced at Matilda quickly and nodded. She was doing and saying exactly the right things to make his plan succeed. He couldn’t be prouder of her performance under such trying circumstances.
“Now see here. This nonsense can be sorted out,” his father promised the Chudleighs. “William has not been well. An annulment can be arranged soon enough I’m sure.”
“I’d like a whiskey,” Rutherford announced loudly enough that
everyone quieted to stare at him. He moved close to William, winked, and then addressed Matilda. “Mrs. Ford, would you care to join me in the drawing room? I believe William has long kept a decanter or two hidden there.”
“He does indeed.” Matilda appeared startled though and glanced at him for permission to go. He nodded decisively. There was no reason for Matilda to remain and listen to rude people. “Do join him. I’ll be along shortly, darling.”
“As you wish.” She dropped his arm only to be claimed by his grandfather. “Your Grace.”
“Matilda Ford? What a pretty ring that has,” Rutherford began as they moved away. “We’ve never had a Matilda in the family before. How lovely. Come along, girls,” he called out to Victoria, Audrey, and Evelyn, who rushed after him and very quickly formed a wall of protection around William’s wife.
Once the group was beyond the door, his father rounded on him. “What are you thinking, marrying a woman like that? Did she trick you into it?”
“Of course not. I chose her.”
His father started to shake his head. It was always a bad sign when that started up.
William turned to Mr. Chudleigh. “Sir, I hope you and your daughter will excuse us. You have intruded on something of a family celebration that I have long been looking forward to. This is the first chance my wife and I have had to be with my grandfather and sisters since my recovery. I am a very happily married man. Whatever my father has promised you will never come to pass.”
Miss Chudleigh sobbed, clutching her father’s arm, but Mr. Chudleigh thankfully ushered her out without uttering a word about his choice of bride.
William was not so lucky with his own father. “You will live to regret such a hasty marriage.”
“Did you?” William bit out. “You barely waited a month after my mother’s death before proposing marriage to my cousin’s governess.”
“The situation was entirely different,” George Ford blustered. “You needed a new mother to curb your tears.”
The usual resentment stirred at the suggestion that the second Lady Ford had mothered him at all. “How could she have comforted me when you sent me away almost immediately after Mama’s death? From where I stand, my marriage is decidedly different than yours and truly none of your business.”
“A marriage without love is no marriage at all.”
“Is that why you and your second wife live apart now? Because you are so deeply in love with each other? You squabble constantly over the littlest things.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Why do you think Matilda and I are not in love?”
He didn’t love Matilda of course, nor would he admit it if he did, but his father’s comments made him curious.
“Passion!” he cried out. “I know you disapprove of it. It’s obvious she flattered you when your defenses were down, made herself indispensible to ensure you felt you had no choice but to propose marriage just to have her. You will see her true colors once you are out in society. She will cost you a fortune and you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”
William wanted to roll his eyes. He’d actually be happy to spend a little money on Matilda, but George Ford was so obsessed with being in love that he could not see the good he could do. He was quite sickening around his second wife, his half sisters’ mother, and he made sure to spend as little time with them as possible. If he were ever in love, he would not behave like his father.
“The only regret I have is not offering for her sooner,” he added, embellishing a little more on their love affair than might be needed. He was dealing with a hopeless romantic. His father would never be satisfied with a curt statement of her suitability. “She is perfect for me and very beautiful.”
He stared his father down until his shoulders sagged in defeat. Finally.
His father spared him a withering glance. “When you are ready to talk sense, you will find me at home.”
George Ford stalked out, leaving his daughters and father behind. William rubbed over the scar on his face. He shared very little in common with his father, who lived too impulsively for his taste. He had always been more reserved than the rest of his family, finding their public displays of emotion uncomfortable to bear. He was not about to change. Not for anyone.