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Natalie gripped her throat. “Yes.”
The man took off his hat and said, “I am sorry to inform you that your husband, Mr. Milton Shaw, is down at the mortuary.”
“Mortuary?” She thought she knew what that meant, but she was still trying to wake up from the deep sleep she’d been in.
“Yes, ma’am. It seems he got into a bit of difficulty at the Grouse and Lady Alehouse tonight.”
She shook her head, trying to clear it. “Yes?”
He took a deep breath. “Well, I’m afraid there isn’t any other way to say this, but Mr. Shaw is dead.”
Natalie stood at the doorway and continued to stare at the man. No words left her mouth. Eventually, the poor man said, “Is there someone I can fetch for you, ma’am? A sister … or a friend?”
As if coming out of a dream, she shook her head. “No. No, I’ll be fine.”
“You will have to come down to the mortuary in the morning to claim his body.”
“Yes, yes. I will do that.”
He tugged on the brim of his hat and walked away. She slowly closed the door and leaned against it.
“Milton is dead.”
A broad smile covered the bottom half of her face. Then tears slid down her cheeks and she sucked in a deep breath. “Milton is dead.”
CHAPTER1
Two years later
Bath, England
Alexander, The Viscount St. John, barreled down the steps as he left the home of his erstwhile betrothed, Miss Mildred Walsh. He tapped his side pocket where the family betrothal ring he’d given her was securely tucked away.
It had been an ugly scene; one he was glad to be over with. He was more amazed than angered that Mildred tried to explain away how he’d found her and one of her family’s footmenin flagrantein her father’s library! Tears, attempted explanations, and childish stomping of her foot ensued right after he’d tossed the footman out, probably breaking the man’s nose in the process. He then confronted Mildred.
“It was not how it appeared,” Mildred wailed, her face flushed, her hands fisted at her sides.
“Indeed? You were on your back on the settee with your skirts practically over your head and your family’s employee was on top of you, his trousers around his ankles. For sheer amusement, I would like to hear your explanation, but I’m afraid my eyes and knowledge of the sex act would trump any story you might come up with.”
She stomped her foot. “You cannot break our engagement. I will be ruined.”
He gave her no answer, and merely stared at her with raised eyebrows. After almost a full minute he said, “My dear, it appears to me you ruined yourself by what I just saw. However, you are welcome to state to all and sundry thatyoubroke the engagement because you felt we would not suit. I will not dispute it.”
“What will I tell my parents? They would not believe I ended the betrothal. They’ve been ecstatic that I was to marry a title.” She began to wring her hands. “They will not forgive me.”
He walked closer to her and held his hand out. “My grandmother’s ring, if you please.”
She began to tug on the ring. “Is there no way I can talk you out of this?”
“Mildred, be sensible. Do you believe I could trust you after this? Shall I plan to hire only old, white-haired men to staff our home? Do I need to worry every time I leave through the front door that you are sneaking someone in through the back door?” He shook his head as he took the ring from her. “No, my dear. Once trust is broken it cannot be repaired.”
“We could have a typicaltonmarriage. Everyone does. I will remain faithful until I’ve given you an heir and a spare, and then we could both go our separate ways.”
He snorted. “I won’t even comment on that one.” He turned to leave the room, and she raced after him and pulled on his arm. “Will you give me a few days to decide what to tell my parents? My friends?”
Alex waved his hand in the air. “Take as long as you wish. Just be aware that there will be no wedding.”
He’d left her sniffing, but he was unable to conjure up any sympathy.
