The Nuisance Wife Read online

  "Oh, don't worry about me. I have no interest in a man who wilts."

  "No, I suppose one wouldn't want one of those."

  "So you haven't heard anything about her?" Octavia asked.

  "Other than her address, I know little about her circumstances. Lambeth."

  The grimace on Octavia's face showed she agreed it wasn't an address for a respectable woman. "But I will see her, I understand. There is to be a coming together of the parties."

  "That should be uncomfortable," Octavia said. "I wonder if she will plead with you. How embarrassing."

  Try as he might, he couldn't really see that. Eliza had never pleaded, not even when the accusation had been laid down. Honestly, he didn't remember that much about it. He'd been too distracted by his own distress, but he did recall that she denied it. But of course she would, even as the evidence was glaring and insurmountable. Still, she had denied it and that had hurt the most, the consistent lying.

  Perhaps that was what had broken it so completely. If she’d perhaps admitted it, owned her wrongdoings, they could have found some way, but she kept to her lies. Even now he was growing angry, after all this time.

  No, he would not enjoy seeing her again. This time was likely to prove trying. Maybe even for all of the family, but no one argued that this was necessary. There was now a title and an estate to support, and for that he needed to be rid of this faithless wife.

  Father had arisen by the time they returned to the house, and they awkwardly embraced. Affection was awkward between them, always had been.

  Chapter 6:

  IT WAS INORDINATELY time-consuming trying to find a barrister to represent her. Eliza had had to go around quite a few of them. Not all had experience with divorce proceedings, and others didn't have the capacity to take her on. She did note quite a distinct chill in how they treated her, and it suggested that her reduced status was something that would stay with her throughout the divorce and beyond. But this had to be faced, there was nothing for it. This marriage was over, so it should be ended.

  In the end, she found Mr. Oakwood, who'd agreed to represent her throughout the process. She had been so relieved that she'd finally found someone that she didn't inquire about the cost. She doubted there was much distinction between them—they would all be expensive. Their plan of selling down a good portion of the inventory would free some money for her. If it cost more than her means, she would probably have to go into debt.

  The day of the initial meeting referred to in the letter she'd received was fast approaching and she felt nervous. Everything about this whole thing made her feel nervous, mostly because it was entirely out of her control. She hadn't initiated it and had little power over it, it was just something that was happening to her, whether she liked it or not.

  This period she would simply have to endure. What was left of her life afterwards she would have to stitch back together, and hopefully continue with the business that had absorbed her time for the last five years.

  Teresa was supportive and Eliza was eternally grateful, particularly for her experience with facing adversity and making the best she could with it. They were skills Eliza would have to learn, although in some ways she already had in starting this business. If only she didn't lose it now. There was the risk. Something else she didn't have full control over as that all technically belonged to Caius.

  Ahead of the meeting, she was meeting Mr. Oakwood at his office on Colston Street, which wasn't far away from where they were meeting Caius and his barrister, or so Mr. Oakwood had informed her.

  On arrival, a cup of tea had been brought for her and she now sat with Mr. Oakwood while they waited. By all appearances, he was a stern man, who didn't speak much unless it was required of him, but at least he didn't treat her as if she was some fallen woman plying her trade on the streets at night.

  "This will be an uncomfortable and difficult time for you," he said quietly. "Divorce cases tend to be reported minutely in the press. They may even seek to approach you, but I caution you against speaking to them. They can do damage to your case."

  "I have no interest in speaking to them," she replied. "I just wish this to be over as soon as possible."

  "Typically it is a protracted affair. Divorce cases are never easy and they tend to get messy. Things always do when there are emotions involved."

  "Perhaps it is good then that we have had no dealings for six years. I doubt there will be any emotions involved at all. That time is passed," she drifted off. There had been a time when emotions had been extremely high, when she’d cried endlessly, and hadn't understood why this had happened. They’d been so happy, and it had all been ruined. Caius hadn't wanted to listen to her pleas, her statements that she was innocent. The proof had been overwhelming, he'd said. But how could it have been when it had never happened?

  Fundamentally she hadn't understood, and still didn't, how William Castle Garrick had said such a thing. Why would he wish to do that to her? Surely he understood the implications of what he'd claimed. He'd lied about something so grave and it had destroyed her marriage. Throughout, he'd never informed her why he'd done it, had even looked at her as if she'd been disgusting.

  All these things that happened to her and she hadn't understood any of it. But she clearly understood the hurt in Caius' eyes, and he'd refused to look at her as he'd commanded her to leave. The order had been given and the maids had hastily packed her belongings away in a trunk.

  With a shudder, Eliza pushed away the thoughts of that day. It had been a while since she'd thought about anything that had happened back then. It served no good. Neither did thinking of the time before, or wishing things had been different. They weren't different. The accusations have been laid, and they had been believed. That was all there was to it. That was all her affection and love had been worth.

  Looking up, she smiled at Mr. Oakwood. They had very little to talk about, which made it uncomfortable sitting there waiting. Why had she been so eager to arrive? Because she wanted this to be over with, and she wanted to make a good impression, but now they were stuck here with little to say. But he was very cordial, however.

  "I understand the things I say to you are in confidence."

  "That is correct, very much like a confessional. Anything you say to me I will keep in confidence in perpetuity."

  "Mr. Oakwood," she started, "I have a business I wish to protect throughout this...palaver. It supports myself and the people who work for me. It is a small venture, and largely inconsequential. It wouldn't amount to anything substantial in Lord Warwick's eyes, but I wish to protect it."

  "That may be difficult. Any contracts you’ve entered into, you have done in his name. That includes any leases, purchases, or any assets you hold for that matter."

  "I see," she said, looking down into her teacup. "There is no way to protect it?"

  "If your husband intends to dissolve it, then there's very little you can do."

  "I had intended to sell down the inventory to pay for your services, Mr. Oakwood. Without the inventory, there isn't much to the company."

  With a serious expression, he grew silent for a while as if he was considering her words. "In that case, it shouldn't be difficult for you to start again. Once you are divorced, then your business will be entirely under your person, but as a married woman, any activity you venture into is the domain of your husband's."

  "That's hardly fair as he has had no bearing or input into the business."

  "No, perhaps not, but in the eyes of the law, any support he's given you has been given to this business by extension. Even if that constitutes to no support at all. The law sees him as responsible for any risk the business undertakes, hence ownership of that business, irrespective of any input he has or hasn't contributed to the business. But as you say, the company has few assets and only liabilities, then your husband might be quite happy to hand over the responsibility of those liabilities to you as part of the divorce proceedings."

  Perhaps she shouldn't have mentione
d it and simply pretended it didn't exist as Teresa had recommended. She wasn't sure that was possible though. At least not with the scrutiny of the press. Her activities would likely be uncovered if some reporter wanted to look into her life.

  Renewed nervousness bit into her with the worry that this would destroy her business and the relationship she had with her clients and the charities she dealt with, many of whom did so because she was perceived as a moral and faultless person.

  Again she sighed. None of this she had control over. It was simply a storm she had to face and afterwards she would see what was left.

  Placing her tea cup down, she waited.

  "I think perhaps it's time to go," Mr. Oakwood said and rose. With a smile, Eliza joined him as they walked towards the door of the silent and somber office, out past the clerk to the stairs leading down to the street. Temple was a nice part of the city, where many in the legal profession had their offices. The streets weren't as busy and everyone seemed to behave. Maybe because with so many solicitors around, everyone was on their best behavior.

  It wasn't a long walk before they reached another office that was similarly sumptuous, decorated with wood paneling and marble. The name of the law firm was written with gold letters and they walked in to be greeted by a clerk. "Are you part of the Warwick party?" he asked and Mr. Oakwood nodded. "Lord Warwick is waiting in Mr. Holsten's office. You may go through at your discretion."

  Nervousness bit deeply into Eliza, because he was here. It had been so very long since she'd seen him. Would he look the same?

  She wasn't entirely sure why she felt so nervous, but it almost felt as if her knees wouldn't support her. It wasn't as if she was excited to see him after all this time, but she supposed she was curious. She had no idea what reception she would receive, not that she had time to think about it because they were entering the office. Perhaps harsh accusations were about to fly.

  And then she saw him, standing by the window. He looked older, more mature. A man instead of the young man she had known. Some things about him seemed so very different. It had been six years, after all. She'd known throughout that time that he'd been overseas somewhere, an officer in the king's service.

  No smile met her as she was so used to seeing from him as she walked into a room, but that had been so very long ago. No smiles the last few days they had been together, but before that, he would always smile when he saw her. But that man was gone, he'd left a long time ago. The man in front of her now was someone entirely different. This was Lord Warwick, and perhaps she would be better off thinking of him as an entirely different person—someone she needed to be legally separated from through this action.

  "Lady Warwick," a man said and Eliza froze, not immediately understanding who they were expecting. The statement jarred into her ears. No one had ever referred to her that way, and it sounded ludicrous. Technically she was Lady Warwick until the divorce was finalized. Still, she didn't like being referred to as such—a name she didn't want or felt was warranted under the circumstances. She had always been Mrs. Hennington throughout her married life.

  There was a degree of separation she required from this, rather than being seen as belonging with Caius, because they both agreed that she did not.

  "We are delighted you could join us today," the man continued. Unable to help herself, her eyes darted to Caius, doubting he was in any way pleased. "Please have a seat," he said, indicating toward a chair by the table.

  "I prefer Mrs. Hennington," she said. "It is how I'm known, and I prefer to continue that way." There was silence in the room and she didn't quite know how to take it. Had she just insulted him by refering to herself as a Hennington, or even by rejecting the title? It hadn't been her intention, but she didn't want to be referred to as Lady Warwick. The title seemed so wrong, and they had not been together as he'd inherited it. In fact, she hadn't even known.

  "Well, I am Mr. Holsten, and I will be representing your husband through these proceedings. I understand you have engaged Mr. Oakwood to present a defense."

  A defense, Eliza thought. It seems strange to have to put together a defense against divorce, but this proceeding was all about the accusation of infidelity. It wasn't simply a defense against him not wanting her as a wife, which was sheer fact. "Yes," she said and then smiled awkwardly because she didn't know what else to do. Immediately she didn't want to be there, wanted to get up and walk out of the room. All eyes were on her and she held her back straight as she walked toward the table and sat down. Mr. Oakwood sat down next to her and she was inordinately grateful he was there, even as she barely knew the man. In this room, he was all she had, and she hoped he took his position of defending her seriously.

  Mr. Holsten and Caius sat down on the other side of the table. She saw him more closely now, the man she'd been so in love with. But the expression on his face was one she had seen before, but not one she was used to. That deep displeasure. If nothing else, this wasn't amusing for him either.

  "Lord Warwick has agreed to cover your expenses for these proceedings," Mr. Holsten said.

  Oh," Eliza replied. "That is very generous." For some reason she couldn't look at him as she said it. It was generous and part of her wanted to argue, but she knew it would financially devastate her to pay for this. It would be silly to let her pride lead her into destitution, when the offer was there and he could afford it. He had an entire estate to back him now. "Shall we proceed?" Mr. Holsten asked with curious brightness.

  Chapter 7:

  IN A WAY, CAIUS HAD SHUT down in a similar way as he did when battle started. The immediacy was important, and nothing else. Not his thoughts, not any emotions. It was all about the here and now.

  And there she was, looking innocent and lovely. How could a visage be so deceptive? Whatever sinful life she led did not reflect on her. But she avoided his eyes, looked anywhere but at him.

  Mr. Holsten spoke about the process and Caius only half listened. Truthfully, he wasn't interested in the process, only the outcome. The process, however, did guarantee that he would see her a few more times, and then they would be severed in all ways.

  "There is the matter in how you wish to plead," Mr. Holsten said. He turned his attention to the other barrister. "Have you discussed this with your clients?"

  "Mrs. Hennington and I have had some discussions," the man started. It offended Caius that she still used his surname, but at least she hadn't insisted on being called Lady Warwick. Perhaps she did outside these walls and only appeared modest here where she was scrutinized. "She states that she is not guilty of the charge."

  Caius snorted and her eyes darted to him for a moment, then quickly away. Was that shame in her eyes?

  "I understand the evidence is overwhelming. In fact, the other party to the adultery came forward and admitted it to Lord Warwick, and to several others as well."

  Her head held high, she sat with a ramrod-straight back, but made no noise or expression.

  "Well, that is unfortunate," Mr. Holsten said. "It could speed the proceedings up immensely if she would simply plead guilty. In this instance, we will have to hear the evidence. I take it this man is willing to testify as to what he knows?" Mr. Holsten was addressing him now. The question stumped him for a moment.

  "I assume so. He has never hidden what went on. I'm sure he would be willing." Obviously, he should have asked Octavia about the whereabouts of William Castle Garrick. It simply hadn't occurred to him, because he'd thought little about the man in years.

  "I believe," Eliza said and it was the first time he'd heard her voice in a long time. It was both familiar and so strange, "that he sailed for the West Indies some time ago."

  "Kept in touch, did you?" he heard himself asking.

  Her clear blue eye turned to him now. It was the first time she’d looked at him properly too. "No," she said and then looked away.

  "That will not deter matters. We will have to get a deposition from him. It can be done, but it will slow things down. We must locate him and then
we can have the local authorities act on our behalf in getting an official statement from him on this matter."

  "I will make inquiries," Caius said. If she hoped that William’s absence would save her, then she was wrong. William would be found even if he had to sail over there himself.

  It shouldn't prove impossible. He knew several people who he could send letters to, and if nothing else, an investigator could be hired to find the man.

  "Then we must wait for this to be concluded before we can proceed with scheduling a court date. As there are no children involved, there is nothing in terms of dependents to settle. Lord Warwick has agreed to pay for the proceedings and any further issues that need to be discussed will be done as part of correspondence. So unless there is anything further to discuss…" He turned his attention to Eliza, who looked at her barrister and then shook her head.

  A fury rose in Caius. An irrational part of him didn't want this to be done so clinically and coldly, wanted to rail at her and force her to admit how she’d ruined the best marriage she could ever have achieved, and to realize how utterly stupid she’d been. Because if she didn't realize, then it was on him to realize how utterly stupid he’d been in marrying her. She was living in squalor, for God's sake. How could she act like she was happy with the outcome?

  Perhaps it was pride that stopped her from falling at his feet. Truthfully he didn't know if he'd have the same amount of pride when faced with such a stark reduction in circumstances. But then she had brought it on herself, and it wasn't as if her pleading was going to change anything, because he certainly wasn't going to change his mind.