The Elusive Wife Read Free Page A

remember—or indeed, even care.
    The innkeeper entered the private dining room where Jason gazed somberly at his empty glass sitting alongside two empty bottles.
    “My lord, ye asked me to let you know when ’twas half past nine o’clock.”
    Jason shook himself and tried to focus on the man. “Nine o’clock you say?”
    “Yes, my lord. Half past. Can I get ye some breakfast?”
    “No,” he shook his head slowly, “don’t think m’stomach can take it.” He attempted to stand, but fell back into the hard chair. “Bring me a mirror would you, man?”
    The innkeeper tugged on his forelock and left the room. Jason couldn’t remember ever being so foxed. He wasn’t even sure he could stand, let alone make a vow to honor and cherish some unknown woman for the rest of his life.
    A small cracked mirror presented by the innkeeper’s wife revealed an image worse than Jason had anticipated. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair in disarray, and his once starched cravat hung loose. His clothes were horribly wrinkled and the dark shadow of stubble graced his aristocratic face.
    “Tea!” He shouted in the direction of the door the innkeeper had disappeared through.
    “M’lord?” Mary was back again, looking almost as bad as he.
    “Tea, Mary. Hot and strong. Please.” He rested his crossed arms on the table in front of him, and laid his head down. At least he wasn’t suffering the nasty aftereffects of too much drink. Only because he was still drunk.
    Mary returned with a large pot of tea and proceeded to pour it into a dainty little cup. Jason brushed her hand aside, picked up the teapot and drank from it, not even wincing as the heat hit his mouth and poured down his throat.
    “M’lord, would you like me to prepare a bath for you?” she asked, watching him warily.
    “No time. Have my driver bring the carriage ’round.”
    The coach bounced and bucked all the way to Coventry Manor. With each jolt, Jason was sure he would cast up his accounts. He gulped occasional swipes from the bottle he’d grabbed before he left the inn, and stared sullenly at his boots. He’d never given much thought to his footwear. Now as he studied them, he was amazed at the fine, intricate work that went into their creation. He must find his boot maker when he returned to London and give him his thanks.
    Jason checked his watch as the coach came to a stop in front of Coventry Manor. Two minutes past ten o’clock.
    Will the old Earl’s solicitors allow for a couple of minutes of tardiness? Or perhaps the Lady Jane had an appointment with a scholar to discuss whatever it was Roman Scholars discussed.
    He stumbled as he got to the door and banged it with his fist, surprised the butler hadn’t already greeted him. Swaying while he waited, he leaned back, then grabbed the door knocker to keep from plummeting backwards down the steps. He shouted and continued to pound. “I’m here. Open the bloody door, I’ve a wedding to attend to.”
    Malcolm opened the door. The only concession the old butler made to Jason’s appearance was a slight rise of his eyebrows. “They await you in the library, my lord.”
    Jason nodded briefly and straightened his shoulders. He fumbled with his cravat, but gave up after two attempts at tying it.
    Where the hell is Grady, anyway? Why is he allowing me to appear at my wedding looking so disheveled?
    He put one foot in front of the other, using the wall for balance, as he made his way to the library. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and viewed the scene.
    A small woman, her back to him, stood speaking with one of the solicitors. All he could see of her was the knot anchored tightly to the back of her head. She wore a dark blue afternoon dress, plain and unadorned, and waved her hands around as she spoke. Jason’s gaze roamed the room. Two of the solicitors were there, along with his housekeeper, the local vicar, and the chatty Lady Jane.
    “I’m here.” He didn’t realize how loud his voice sounded