After the Wedding (The Worth Saga #2)(94)

“Honestly.” Judith shut her eyes. “I think it would be easier for all of us except Anthony if he were dead. It makes a mess of everything.”

“It sounds fine to me,” Theresa said. “This way, I’m not the worst of your siblings.”

Judith laughed. “You never have been. Theresa, I think…I’ve been unfair to you. You’re fifteen. You may not go about being yourself the way others would, but you’re old enough to make your own decisions. Would you want to see what he’s written?”

Theresa exhaled. “Yes.”

Judith patted her knee. “Later,” she said. “It’s been a long day, and the solicitor keeps them. It’s time for dinner now.”



* * *



Adrian wasted no time. He went back to Gainshire on the evening train. Walter Evans, the footman, conducted him to the office to wait. He was accustomed to Adrian waiting for Bishop Denmore, and—as he considered Adrian a servant—thought nothing of it.

He was allowed into his uncle’s study without a blink of an eye. Adrian took his time, making sure he got every last affidavit, every last note.

The documents they had told most of the story—why Bishop Lassiter had acted as he had, why the rector had chosen to discredit Camilla, where the money had come from, and whose pockets it had eventually lined.

But there was one point that might be questioned, one that Denmore himself had raised: why had it taken them so long to file for an annulment?

Before he went back to London, he took the train back up to Lackwich.

Mrs. Beasley, it turned out, had saved more than Bishop Lassiter’s telegrams.

She had saved his uncle’s, too—all of them, the ones saying that Adrian needed to stay the course, that he believed Adrian would succeed, and that he could do nothing to help.

Whether Denmore wanted to acknowledge Adrian was no longer relevant. If the truth came out, it would come out.





Chapter Twenty-Five





Adrian had left a note informing his uncle that he was taking possession of his own papers in preparation for the annulment proceedings. That note must have been magic. Up until that moment, his uncle had always been too busy to visit Adrian. Now, he suddenly found the time to come to London.

Adrian received him in the home he shared with his brother. He let Denmore slog through the hell of polite conversation as the tea things were brought out, let him look away and sigh uncomfortably and rub his hands together.

Adrian told him about the china that was in production.

His uncle nodded and bit his lip, until finally, he could keep silent no longer.

“Adrian,” Denmore finally said. “What are you doing?”

Adrian could have been obnoxious. He could have answered with a false innocence that he was drinking tea.

Instead, he answered as simply as possible. “I’m having my marriage annulled. This cannot be a surprise to you; it has been my stated goal from the moment I was trapped into it at gunpoint.”

The fact that his goals and desires had shifted? Not relevant any longer. Camilla wanted a choice; he’d give her one.

His uncle shut his eyes. “You must understand, Adrian. Those papers you acquired… They are not entirely convenient for me. Not if they are made public.”

“Are they as inconvenient as being married at pistol point?”

“Dash it.” His uncle set his tea cup down firmly. “I don’t see the point in comparing such things. I ask you to reconsider. You owe me that much.”

Adrian could have quibbled about who owed whom. But when all was said and done, it didn’t hurt to try. Instead, he just nodded. “Very well.”

His uncle looked almost startled. “Oh. Really? You’ll give it up?”

“I didn’t say that. I’ll reconsider. Give me a moment.”

And he did—Adrian reconsidered.

On the one hand, he was fairly certain that what he felt for Camilla was more than passing fancy. They got along well together. When she smiled, something in his chest lifted. She had asked him to have a choice, and he had promised her she could have it because he knew it would make her happy, and he loved the idea of making her happy.

On the other hand, if he granted his uncle’s wish, his uncle’s promise of reconciliation someday might still be a possibility. There was something to be said for family harmony. Adrian had been taking on one more burden for so long that maybe…

He realized the real reason he was giving the notion such consideration the moment the thought popped into his head unbidden. You could stay married, his mind whispered. You could keep her and allay your uncle’s worries all at once. You could have everything you want. And you want it, don’t you?

He did. He wasn’t sure when he had started wanting it, wanting her.

But she had asked for a choice, and he wanted her to have it. And—most importantly—for coming up on four decades, Denmore had chosen to pretend that his family didn’t exist. That was his choice. He’d had all these years to choose otherwise, and he never had.

Adrian wanted to be chosen. Even if he had been selfish enough to defy all Camilla’s wishes in the matter, he was too selfish to give up that chance for himself.

“There we are,” Adrian said. “I’ve considered once more. The answer is that I will still be seeking an annulment.”