The Discarded Wife

by Camille Oster

  Sophie declined, but Minette wouldn't hear otherwise.

  The carriage trundled along the road. It was a fairly good road, so they were making good speed, and Lady Woolwich's carriage was comfortable.

  "I am so glad we managed to sneak you in a couple of dresses. It is unconscionable of Tristan to keep you in such a meagre wardrobe."

  "It is very kind of you, but there is no reason Lord Aberley should see to my wardrobe."

  The woman wasn't listening. "I think he positively seeks to keep you repressed."

  Sophie closed her mouth from what she was going to say. Repressed? "I'm not—"

  "He sent that tutor away. You do know that, don't you? And he is probably going to forbid Reverend Narstop from coming to the house again."

  Concern creased Sophie's brow. "Why?"

  "He thinks you seduce them."

  "What?"

  "A seductress. He's used the word more than once about you."

  Sophie could simply stare at her. "I've never seduced anyone."

  "I think he was accusing you of having immoral congress with that tutor."

  "I never!" Sophie gasped, not believing what she was hearing. How could he say something so despicable about her? This was a new low, even for him. How dare he besmudge her character, but then why was she surprised? He'd besmudged her character from the moment she'd met him. And now, she had thought they had reached some kind of understanding and he goes and assassinates her character behind her back. It was despicable.

  "And he thinks you are now planning to seduce Reverend Narstop," Minette continued.

  Her mouth hanging open, Sophie couldn't even think what to say.

  "It is perfectly reasonable. You are a widow. Why should you not have some fun? It's not Tristan's place to say what you can or cannot do."

  "I'm not going to seduce anyone. I am simply making acquaintances in the village, or am I not allowed to do that according to Aberley? The man is a cad." Her entire body was heated with rage. How dare he accuse her of such things? This was too much to be borne.

  They were quickly coming into Sommerfield's district and Sophie's blood was boiling. Angry thoughts were racing around her head. This was too much. She wouldn't stand for being treated this way.

  "You should come to London sometime. I could introduce you," Minette said, but Sophie couldn't pay attention. Anger was simmering inside her.

  "I can't believe he would do something like this," Sophie uttered, vaguely aware that she had just rudely cut off her companion. "I have never done anything to him and he's continually besmudged my character. What is it that I have done to him that makes him treat me like this?"

  "I think you're going to have to ask him."

  "I will," Sophie said. "In very clear terms."

  "I agree. You shouldn't let him get away with such things. It is unconscionable."

  Sophie's foot was tapping on the floor as the carriage drove onto the estate. It felt as though this last leg of the journey was taking forever. In her mind, she was running through the things she was going to say. She had even told herself that she was going to try to act more kindly to him, and he did this. The cad. The bounder. The bastard.

  Sophie jumped out of the carriage before it even stopped and marched to the house. Wellswar opened the door. "Where is he?" she demanded.

  "Master Alfred?"

  "Aberley," Sophie said darkly.

  "In his study, I believe."

  Sophie marched over and threw open the doors. Alfie sat on the floor and Sophie had to rein herself in. "Alfie, darling. Could you go upstairs for a moment. I need to have another word with your father."

  "How was your trip, Mum?"

  "I'll tell you all about it in a minute. Now run along." Her voice was high and squeaky as she tried to sound calm and collected as Alfie guardedly walked out of the room.

  Sophie closed the door. "You," she said. He was sitting at the desk with documents strewn across the surface. "Minette told me what you said about me. How dare you?"

  "I have no idea what you are talking about."

  "I have been very tolerant of you and your abhorrent personality, but this is beyond the pale."

  "Abhorrent personality?" he said, clearly offended.

  "Seductress?"

  "I said nothing of the sort."

  "Oh really. That I had immoral congress with Mr. Herman."

  "I didn't. Did you?!"

  Unable to help herself, Sophie rushed him, her hands forming into claws, which he deflected by taking her wrists. This was turning out very familiarly.

  "How dare you? You continue to besmudge my character. I've never done anything to you."

  "Oh really?" he said with a snort that only made her angrier. "I do recall how I was blackmailed into marrying you."

  "And I was completely innocent of that. I married you in good faith, but you never even bothered to get to know me. And now you say such vile things about me."

  "I never said you had congress with Herman. Did you?"

  "Does it matter what I say? It doesn't seem to with you. You have your opinions and nothing changes them." For a moment, she wrestled with him so he would let go of her hands. "Is there no end to your vengeance?"

  "This has nothing to do with vengeance."

  "Oh really? You have been cruel and horrible from the moment I met you, but this, this is just vile."

  "I never said you had congress with that man. Where are you getting this?"

  "Then you implied it. And that I was planning the same with the vicar."

  Pulling her hands back, he finally let go.

  "Maybe I said something to the effect that men fall under your spell."

  "That is despicable. You are despicable."

  *

  Minette could tell the little boy was distressed. The shouting from the room was harsh and jarring.

  "Come, Alfred," she said to him. "Why don't you show me that pony of yours?"

  He wasn't moving, refused to pay attention to her. His attention was on the closed doors of the study.

  "It's not as bad as it seems," she said and he finally turned to her.

  "They're angry."

  "Well, sometimes grownups need to clear the air. Things build up. It is necessary. Come, show me your pony."

  Again he looked reticent to leave, so she insisted.

  "It will all be fine," she said. "Sometimes walls of castles need to be breached, and it can only be done by some force."

  With the boy in hand, she led him over to the stables. He still looked worried, considering the two people in his life were battling in the study. "The thing about horses is that you can lead them to water, but you can't make them drink." He was listening, but perhaps not understanding. So she bent down. "But in the end, thirst will always get them. Sometimes good things come out of a battle."

  "Mother says nothing good comes out of war."

  "Peace tends to come after a war, and peace is good, isn't it?"

  "Why do they hate each other so much?"

  "They don't. Not really."

  "I don't understand."

  She chuckled. "Neither do they, but I think we need to give them some space to work it out. It will all be fine." Looking around the field behind the stable, she pointed to the smallest creature. "Is that your pony?"

  "Artex," he said. "Father is teaching me to ride."

  "Is he a good teacher?"

  Alfred nodded.

  Those two idiots better be working it out back there in the study. She had come all this way, because she knew Tristan was largely incapable of making the right steps. Too much pride and too willful. In fact, they both were. Without a push, those two would be mincing around each other for years. Tristan forever being cool and calm, had his feathers ruffled in a way she had never seen. Minette had known weeks ago that there was much more here than Tristan simply claiming his son, but the obstinate man was going to do everything in his power to wiggle his way out of what was best for him. Sophie was a better match than Minet
te had even considered. It was a shame he hadn't seen that seven years ago, but a man wasn’t ready until he was ready.

  Chapter 34

  "I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF you blaming me for my brother's actions, or I am going to start blaming you for your sister's. What kind of fool would fall for his smarmy act, I wonder. Answer me that."

  "Don't speak ill of my sister."

  "Oh really? You are allowed to speak ill of everyone, including me, but I'm not allowed to say anything bad about anyone?"

  "Your brother is a bounder."

  "You are a bounder. You are just as bad as him."

  "Take that back."

  "Or what?"

  "Or I will banish you from this house." Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, because she slapped him and didn't stop at one.

  "Do you seriously think I will listen to your banishment? I listened to you once. I am through listening to you. You have nothing good to say."

  Well, in a way, she had to, because he was legally Alfie's father and that couldn't be undone.

  How quickly had they gone from being reasonably civil to each other to now violence and considering who would have custody in a legal battle? Obviously him, but it would be a drastic step, one that would be devastating for Alfie. Tristan realized that, even if at the start he had been quite negligent in his understanding. Perhaps he understood why Sophie had fought so hard. Apparently, she was still fighting.

  "Stop hitting me." Again he had to grab her wrists and restrain her. "I did not say to anyone that you had congress with any man. I didn't even imply it. I might have said they were enthralled with you." Or was that Minette who had said it, and then gone and informed Sophie about it all? What was she trying to do?

  Sophie squirmed, which wasn't doing him any favors in light of the discomfort he had felt even before she charged into his study like a Valkyrie.

  "You called me a seductress?"

  "Well…"

  "Well, what?"

  "Are you not aware of the impact you have on the men around you? Wearing those dresses? They leave little to the imagination."

  "What are you talking about? My dresses are modest."

  "They show quite clearly when you're cold." Unable to help himself, he snuck a glance down. "And apparently when you are angry."

  Sophie's gaze shot down and her hands jerked out of his grip to cross tightly over her chest.

  "And when they are wet, I can even see your bellybutton," he said sharply as if he'd scored a point in this argument.

  "Then don't look."

  "I'm a man. You cannot simply tell me not to look. It's like saying don't look at the bright comet lighting up the entire sky. If you are not a witting seductress, then you are an unwitting one."

  "Is that why Lady Woolwich just bought me three dresses? Have you been conspiring against me?"

  "Yes, because I just bought you three dresses. For some reason, you are absolutely against accepting any assistance from me."

  "I have sworn not to accept anything from you."

  "Why must you fight me every single step of the way? Contrary to what you believe, I don't hold you any ill will. Well, not lately. There might have been a time when I wished you to fall into a deep, dark hole. But we are joint parents now and we must cooperate."

  "How can we when you go running behind my back and say such vile things?"

  "I didn't."

  "It sounds very much like you did."

  For a moment, Tristan wanted to strangle her—or strangle someone. "I might simply have said, or implied, that I don't want men coming to the house and ogling you." That wasn't perhaps what he'd said, but it was the gist of it.

  "There could have been a future between me and Mr. Herman and you actively destroyed that. Why would you do something like that to me? Do I not deserve happiness according to you? You are intent on punishing me. For what? Please tell me."

  This was mortifyingly awkward. "I wasn't punishing you," he had to admit. In such a frank conversation, it was cowardly to hide behind half-truths. "I perhaps felt threatened."

  "How was that a threat? How can that be a threat?"

  "You were seeking to replace me. Take my family away and find a new father for Alfie."

  "What?"

  "I know it is illogical, but that was how it felt. So yes, I did go out and find a new commission for him. I admit it. Happy now?"

  Sophie only stared at him and Tristan didn't know where to keep his gaze. It was embarrassing admitting to some of these impulses. "Perhaps I am unwittingly a little possessive."

  "Possessive? We are not married."

  "Yes, fine, but at times, it doesn't feel that way." It was painful having to admit this, but perhaps she deserved to know the truth. "And maybe I do feel like you are a seductress, based on personal experience."

  Her mouth opened as if to say something, but nothing came out. "When have I ever tried to seduce you? Of course, I tried to be as amenable as possible while we were married. I tried my best, but we rarely had anything to do with each other. I've never done anything to… If you think me getting caught in the rain was some notion of trying to seduce you, you are sadly mistaken."

  "It was perhaps a gradual process," he admitted, mortification burning inside him.

  Finally looking at her, her eyes were large, shifting between his. There was no anger in there anymore. Even her nipples attested to it. "I," she started. "I really don't know what to say."

  Tristan shrugged. He didn't know either.

  "Uhm, I guess we'll just leave it there.” Taking a step away, Sophie reconsidered. "Are you forever going to be sullen if a man comes to the house?"

  "Probably."

  "Oh, I see. Just so you know, Reverend Narstop is coming for supper tomorrow night."

  "So I've heard."

  "I have no interest in him, just so you know. You can rest assured."

  "I will, thank you, while he ogles you throughout supper."

  "He does not ogle; he is a very nice man. A man of the cloth, may I add."

  Tristan didn't say anything, because there was a real risk he would anger her again. The cloth did not make men saints, especially not young, unmarried ones.

  Finally, she nodded and walked out of the room. It felt like there was so much unsaid, but it wasn't the time to say any of it. Exhaustion nipped at him and he sat down heavily at the desk and poured himself a large portion of whiskey. What had just happened?

  In a sense, he'd just declared his infatuation with her, and neither of them knew what to do now. Obviously, it changed things. To some degree or other, he was in love with his house guest, former wife and the mother of his child. There was no point denying it now. He felt discomfort when she walked into the room, and it wasn't hate.

  Was this the source of all their discord? Love creates more problems than it solves, it seemed.

  Taking another deep swig of the whiskey, he tried to calm his heart. On some level, it felt as if a large weight had been lifted off his chest, even if he wasn't entirely comfortable with the notion of what he'd just declared.

  And Minette. What had she been doing painting everything he'd said in such an ugly light? And he wasn't even sure he had said anything at all. She was meddling.

  Still, he had had enough confrontation for one day, and he couldn't stomach another. While Sophie hit like a sledgehammer, Minette was slippery like an eel.

  The documents sat on the desk in front of him, but he wasn't sure he could face it now. Then again, there was a certain calmness he hadn't felt before. Picking up his pen, he returned to the correspondence he'd been working on with renewed clarity.

  A head peeked around the door, drawing his attention to the little boy. "Hello Alfie," he said brightly, while the boy eyed him suspiciously. "That reminds me. I think I've found the perfect tutor for you. His name is Mr. Veech. Seems like a really nice man." And old, very old.

  Carefully, Alfie stepped into the room.

  "I am asking him to come visit so you, your mother
and I can meet him."

  The image of it formed in his head. This was his family and he actually saw them that way. And it wasn't a notion that grated.

  Chapter 35

  WITH THE DOOR FIRMLY SHUT, Sophie stood with her fingers to her lips, trying to understand what had just happened. Aberley had a… tenderness for her. Was that even right? In truth, she couldn't exactly define what it was, but he was jealous. This all stemmed from jealousy. How could that even happen? They hated each other.

  The knob of her door twisted slightly and she stepped aside as Alfie appeared.

  "Hello, sweetie," she said, inviting him in.

  "Do we have to leave?" he asked.

  "No, of course not," she replied, realizing he was worried about the fight they'd had. "Tristan is never going to ask you to leave." He might ask her, but that was another thing entirely. In fact, this whole thing with his attraction was very distracting and it made things infinitely more complicated. How were they to deal with each other now?

  He was attracted to her. That was just preposterous.

  Right now, though, she needed to reassure Alfie, who was obviously concerned. "You know how sometimes you fight with your friends? Well, adults do the same things. They just need to clear the air, and your father and I just had one of those moments." Even as she said it, she noted how much they sounded like a family, and Aberley was worried she was replacing him in it. In a sense, he had been right. In her mind, she had painted him out of the picture, a distant and rarely seen figure who never left London. It hadn't even occurred to her that it would do him a disservice, not figuring he needed much of a relationship with Alfie—much less a relationship with her.

  Relationship—it sounded like such a big word. They didn't have a relationship, but was this a suggestion that they should have? Nervousness stole through her stomach and she had to force herself not to wring her hands, because Alfie would misread the gesture.

  "Everything is fine," she said with a smile. It wasn't true. Absolutely everything was up in the air—just not about Aberley kicking them out into the street. "Nothing to worry about." That was a statement she couldn't categorically stand by either. "Now I must get ready for supper," she said brightly. Her voice sounded impossibly bright to her own ears. "And you just run along and find Mary, who'll bring your supper up shortly."