“That’s a foundation better than most marriages have,” Westcott remarked with a shrug.
Dominic shot him a sharp look. “I was dying, Westcott. What rational man makes a lifelong commitment while teetering at the edge of the abyss?”
“But you didn’t die,” Bedford pointed out, lips twitching.
Dominic glared at the ceiling. “Your power of perception astounds me.”
Bedford chuckled. “Well, at least I’m not the one who woke up with a wife and no memory of how it happened.”
Dominic waved a hand towards the door. “You can both leave now.”
Bedford ignored the gesture and settled more comfortably beside Westcott. “And miss the unfolding drama? Absolutely not.”
“Why did I save you?” Dominic muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I should have let you get shot.”
“But you didn’t,” Bedford replied. “And I will be eternally grateful, my friend.”
Dominic scoffed. “You and I will never be friends.”
Bedford only grinned wider, his tone annoyingly smug. “Never say never.”
With a roll of his eyes, Dominic turned to Westcott. “Why, exactly, did you bring him here?”
“I didn’t. He followed me here,” Westcott said dryly. “Now then, I must pose the question—have you consummated the marriage?”
Dominic was caught off guard by the bluntness of the question. “I… don’t remember, but I doubt it,” he responded honestly.
Westcott stood, the leather creaking beneath him. “Well, you must find out. That detail could prove pivotal when petitioning for annulment. If the marriage was never consummated, your case gains strength.”
“I’m aware,” Dominic replied with a tired nod. “I plan to broach the subject with her tonight. Over dinner, perhaps.”
“Romantic,” Bedford teased, rising to his feet.
“Useful,” Dominic corrected.
“Well, I wish you luck,” Bedford said, sweeping towards the door. “You’re going to need it.”
After the two men left, Dominic turned back to the desk and opened the ledger resting there. He barely skimmed the first line when a small but familiar presence made itself known.
Tristan strolled into the study with crumbs on his clothes and a sizable biscuit clutched in his hand.
“Is it true?” the boy asked between bites. “Are you really married?”
Dominic exhaled and closed the ledger. So much for getting work done. “I am,” he said. “For now.”
Tristan chewed thoughtfully, his brow scrunching. “I saw her in the gardens earlier. Your wife. She looked sad.”
A quiet guilt stirred in Dominic’s chest. He looked away, his jaw tightening. “She’s an adult,” he stated, as if that explained everything.
“Adults get sad, too,” Tristan said matter-of-factly. “My mum cried a lot when we got word about my father. Sometimes, at night, she still cries when she thinks I’m asleep.”
Dominic’s voice softened. “I’m sorry, Tristan.”
The boy moved to the nearest chair and clambered up, legs swinging. “Have you heard anything from the doctor about my mum?”
“Not yet,” Dominic said. He glanced towards the doorway. “Wasn’t a maid assigned to show you around the townhouse?”
“Yes, but I didn’t feel like being followed everywhere. I can look after myself.”
