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

by Mia Vincy

“I realize you are both married.” The duke looked from one to the other. “But do you realize you are married to each other?”

“Let me explain, Mrs. DeWitt, how marriage works.” “Oh, please do, Mr. DeWitt, I’m all agog.” “I am the husband, so I make the rules to suit me.” “And I am the wife, so I change the rules to suit me.”

“You seem puzzled,” said his disruptive wife, as they reached the gate. “Have I said something to puzzle you?” “Most of what you say puzzles me. It’s almost as though you have a mind of your own.” “Please don’t vex yourself. I’ll try not to use it too often.”

“I can’t see anyone going to war over you, but you’re not completely embarrassing. How old are you anyway? Nineteen? Twenty?”

“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.”

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

“Do I pay you to disapprove of me, Das?” “No, sir. I provide the disapproval for free.”

“Mainly I’m wondering why you don’t get punched in the face more often.”

“I’m too busy” was merely an acceptable way of saying “Everything else is more important than you.”

Family! With a sigh, she headed toward the gate and her waiting carriage. Her sisters hated her, her mother forgot her name, her grandmother thought her unimportant, and her husband wanted her gone.

“It’s not fair to laugh at me. You men cannot demand that women be innocent and then mock us for being exactly what you say you want.”

Then, watching her, he saw her perform her trick: She picked up her yearning and loneliness and disappointment and hope, and she packed them away, tied them up tight inside her, and sealed it all with an amiable smile.

If they waited until women were old enough to get some common sense, they’d never get them married off at all.

“How much is wasted when men decide that certain babies are worth nothing because of their birth or class or sex or skin? How much do we all lose, as a nation, as humans, by dismissing people simply because they are not like us?”