A Wicked Kind of Husband (Longhope Abbey, #1)

by Mia Vincy

Mr. DeWitt is everything that a husband ought to be,” Cassandra said to her friend Arabella as they strolled through London’s Hyde Park on a fine afternoon three weeks later. “He is conveniently rich, extremely generous, and always somewhere else.”

“The agreement was that I get married to you. It was not to be married to you.” “Unfortunately, one does tend to follow the other.” “We can be married at a distance,” he said. “Our marriage has been highly satisfactory so far.”

I am more than happy that we lead separate lives. I only ask that you do not obstruct me or engage in behavior that will adversely affect her social position. Once this is done, I shall return to Sunne Park and you can go back to doing what you do best. Which, as I understand it, involves making money, offending people, and cuckolding lords.”

“I think what you meant to say is that I’m the bastard son of a bigamist earl and that kind of thing tends to upset people.” He threw himself back against the squabs. “The ‘bastard son’ part of it, I mean. They’re all fine with the ‘bigamist earl’ part.”

“That was not my best performance,” he said, sounding gruff and stilted to his own ears. “I hadn’t realized one scored points.” “We had a duty. I discharged my duty like a gentleman and you bore yours like a lady.” “England must be very proud.”

“Mrs. DeWitt,” he said. “You will leave here tomorrow.” “I am willing to do whatever you ask, Mr. DeWitt.” “Good.” “So long as you do not ask anything that I am not willing to do.”

“A vase? Why would I even own such a useless thing?” He glared at the butler, who summed up the situation in two ominous words: “Mrs. DeWitt.”

“This is a colonization, Das. That woman is colonizing my house. Do you know what that means?” “Years of bloodshed, oppression, and exploitation, perhaps?”

Joshua glared at his secretary, who didn’t flinch. “Do I detect a tone of disapproval, Das?” “Yes, sir.” “Do I pay you to disapprove of me, Das?” “No, sir. I provide the disapproval for free.”

Joshua rubbed his neck, aghast. His secretaries had seemed so sensible and reliable, when the whole time they’d been going around getting married behind his back.

“Stop being so bloody reasonable,” he grumbled. “Can’t stand it when people go around being reasonable before I’ve had my coffee.”

This is the stupidest idea since Napoleon visited Russia in winter,”

“And I was going to call him a pig, but I remembered your ban on likening him to animals.” “Well done.” “So instead I called him a poxed pizzle.”

let me tell you: She’s wrong. Mine is better than all the others. It’s bigger and stronger, and more handsome and more noble.” “All that!” She opened her eyes wide. “Magical too, I suppose?” “It can do tricks.” “For example?” “It can sit up and beg.”

Arabella sighed. “For a man who claims to love honesty, he tells himself a lot of lies.”

“The sunne is new each day.” “That’s from Heraclitus,” Cassandra said. The name stirred a memory from schoolbooks at Eton. One of those Greek fellows, the sort who had nothing to do all day but sit around and state the bleeding obvious, for no apparent purpose other than the torture of English schoolboys two thousand years later.