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“You were supposed to have obtained an annulment,” she accused.
“The annulment was never finalized,” Colin responded calmly. “Ergo, we are still married.”
Her eyes rounded. She was a person who prided herself on remaining unruffled. After all, she’d faced down the occasional recalcitrant client in her position as an art specialist at renowned auction house Lansing’s. But if her brief history with Colin was anything to judge by, the marquess had an unparalleled ability to get under her skin.
“What do you mean by not finalized?” she demanded. “I know I signed annulment papers. I distinctly remember doing so.” Her brow furrowed with sudden suspicion. “Unless you misrepresented what I was signing?”
“Nothing so dramatic,” Colin said with enviable composure. “An annulment is more complicated than simply signing a contract. In our case, the annulment papers were not properly filed with the court for judgment—an important last step.”
“And whose fault was that?” she demanded.
Colin looked her in the eye. “The matter was overlooked.”
“Of course,” she snapped. “And you waited until today to tell me?”
Colin shrugged. “It wasn’t an issue till now.”
She was flabbergasted by his sangfroid. Was this Colin’s way of getting back at her for leaving him in the lurch?
“I don’t believe this.” Tod threw up his hands, his reaction echoing her feelings.
She had decided to proceed without legal counsel in her annulment with Colin, even though she’d had only a cursory understanding of family law. She hadn’t wanted anyone—even a family attorney—to know of her incredible lapse in judgment.
Now she regretted the decision not to hire a lawyer. Clearly she’d committed another error in judgment. Not only had she not made sure her annulment had been properly finalized—because she’d wanted to forget about the whole sorry episode in Las Vegas as soon as possible—but as a result she’d put her trust in Colin to see the annulment through.
Colin’s gaze swept over her. “Very nice. Certainly a departure from the red sequin ensemble that you wore during our ceremony.”
“Red is an appropriate color when marrying the devil, wouldn’t you agree?” she tossed back.
“You didn’t act as if I were the devil at the time,” he responded silkily, his voice lowering. “In fact, I recall—”
“I wasn’t myself,” she bit out.
I was out of my mind. That’s right, she thought feverishly. Wasn’t insanity a basis for annulment almost everywhere?
“Insane?” Colin queried. “Already trying to create a watertight defense to bigamy?”
“I did not commit bigamy.”
“Only through my timely intervention.”
The man was infuriating. “Timely? We’ve been married two years according to your calculation.”
Colin inclined his head in acknowledgment. “And counting.”
She was incredulous at his audacity. But then she supposed that, as her spouse, Colin felt he took precedence over Tod, an almost husband. And he’d be right, damn him. Even physically, Colin was more i
mposing. He was the same height as Tod but more muscular and formidable.
She rued her continuing awareness of Colin as a man. Still, it was a situation she intended to rectify forthwith to the extent she could.
“How long have you known we were still married?” she demanded.
Colin shrugged. “Does it matter if I arrived in time?”
She smelled a rat from his evasive response. He’d wanted to create a scene.
Still, he gave nothing away.
