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Jude shot him a suspicious look, but he sat down and raised his glass. “To marriage,” he murmured, and Aidan winced.
“What’s wrong?” Jude asked. “Finally being forced to the altar?”
“Not at all. It’s something entirely different.” Aidan had clearly not poured enough whisky as he found his glass empty too quickly.
“Well?” Jude prompted.
“I . . . It seems . . .” He stumbled to a halt, unable to think how to start. “Can I count on your discretion?”
“Haven’t you always?” Jude scoffed.
Aidan managed a sick smile. “Yes, thankfully. But this is . . .”
“Entirely different?” Jude finished.
“Yes. It’s about Katie. The girl I once meant to marry.”
“The one who died?”
“Yes. Except that she isn’t dead.”
Jude’s expression hardly budged as he shook his head. “Pardon?”
“She didn’t die. Her family sent her to India and concocted the story of the shipwreck.”
“What? Why?”
“I’ve no idea, and Kate refuses to contact her family, so perhaps we’ll never know.”
“You’ve been in touch?”
“Yes.” He let his gaze rise to meet Jude’s. “I’ve found her.”
“Well, my God, Aidan! That’s wonderful!”
Aidan let the smile spread over his face. “It is. She’s alive and well and living in Kingston-upon-Hull, of all places. I happened by her on the street.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m not. But please don’t tell another soul. Only Edward knows.”
“What about Marissa?”
“I can’t tell her yet.”
“Aidan . . . she’s my wife.”
“I know, but I can’t tell her yet. It’s complicated. More than complicated.”
“By what?” Jude asked.
“The reason I told you . . . I don’t wish to involve you. . . .”
“But?”
“But . . . I wondered if your father would be willing to help petition Parliament for a divorce.”
Jude’s entire body, alert and tense, relaxed slowly into the seat back as his face turned from thrilled to serious. “Ah. Complicated, indeed.”
