The Unexpected Wife - Jess Michaels Page 0,11

he knew what it was like to have to step into the wide unknown and pretend that he was just fine.

“Good, I’ll make some arrangements for us and whoever will accompany you, and send word ahead to the duke to see if he can provide accommodation.” He dug into his pocket and handed her a card. “I’m staying at Twiddleport Inn just up the lane if you need anything. Otherwise, I’ll send you the information about a time for leaving in the morning.”

She blinked as if she was slightly stunned by all this, but then she nodded. “Very well. I’ll be ready.”

She followed him to the foyer and they said their goodbyes before he walked away toward the inn. But he couldn’t help but take a look back at her before he turned the corner. She remained on her doorstep, watching him, and lifted a hand to wave one last time. When he glanced away, he knew deep within himself that that something had shifted today. For his investigation. And perhaps for both of them. Now he just had to make sure that he didn’t tumble them both into a worse mess than they were in right now.

“Mama, you are standing in Mabel’s way,” Celeste said softly, interrupting her mother’s tirade.

There had been no way for Celeste not to send a quick note to her parents, telling them she would go with Owen in the hopes of helping him solve his case. And she had known Lady Hendricks would come crashing down on her house to whine and moan and talk ceaselessly.

She’d been right. For here they were, wedged into her chamber as she and her maid, Mabel, tried to pack her things. And Lady Hendricks was, as always, predictable in her theatrics.

“I cannot believe you are just going to flit off to London with some strange man you’ve never met before. This is how you got into this kind of trouble in the first place.”

Celeste hadn’t been fully listening to her mother’s ramblings until that moment. She straightened up from the chemises she was folding and pivoted. “That is not how I got into this situation. You will not rewrite my history to make me a silly girl who chose poorly. I never wanted this marriage to Erasmus Montgomery. You nearly yanked my hair out hauling me back through a window to prove it.”

Her mother grew red at the challenge of that statement and glanced at Mabel. “Not in front of the servants,” she hissed, as if the maid couldn’t hear that either.

Celeste rolled her eyes. “Mabel knows everything anyway.”

Mabel stifled a small smile and went back to her folding and packing without comment. She’d learned long ago not to involve herself in the politics of the Hendricks family.

“You should take me with you,” her mother huffed, and sat down hard in the chair before the fire. “I can help you.”

Celeste nearly tore a chemise in her attempt to remain calm. “Help me with what? I’m certain it will be very boring, Mama. I’ll be sitting around in home likely smaller than this one, waiting to find out if Ow—Mr. Gregory needs information I might be able to provide. I’m a widow, technically. I have Mabel as my companion, I do not need a chaperone.”

“But Mabel will not be able to see what is to your advantage,” Lady Hendricks insisted. “After all, how often do you have the prospect to go to London and partake in the opportunities it provides?”

“What opportunities?” Celeste asked with a side glance to Mabel, who shrugged lightly. “You’ve never been one to enjoy museums or parks.”

Her mother’s face twisted as if Celeste had said something vile. “Not parks, you ridiculous girl. I’m talking about gentlemen. It turns out you were never truly married. This trip to London could allow you to come to some other arrangement if it is played correctly. A real husband, perhaps this one with a little more influence.”

Celeste froze and so did Mabel. She shot a look to her maid, and Mabel did the kind thing and slipped from the room without comment. Once she was gone, Celeste turned to her mother.

“Have you gone mad?” she asked, trying to meter her tone. “What has happened with Erasmus is going to be public, Mama, if it isn’t already circulating all through London. Everyone will know I am the third wife of a bigamist husband. It will not cause anyone to pile up at my door hoping to align themselves with this

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