Page 11 of A Wicked Kind of Husband

“You’re prettier than I remember,” he said.

She turned her bright eyes back to him, looking amused and amiable. In truth, he hardly remembered much about her at all. She’d kept her head bowed throughout their short wedding ceremony, and he’d avoided looking at her anyway. And the other part had taken place in the shadows, both of them with eyes shut and thinking of something else.

“How charming of you to say so,” she said. “I recall you expressed some disappointment on our wedding day, that you had heard the Lightwell sisters were beauties when I am not.”

“I can’t see anyone going to war over you, but you’re not completely embarrassing. How old are you anyway? Nineteen? Twenty?”

“Twenty-two.”

“That old.”

He tried to remember twenty-two. It was only six years ago but it felt like a lifetime. Samuel had been two then, and Rachel brought him into the offices, saying it was never too soon for him to learn. That was the year they risked everything by purchasing and outfitting new factories, and ended up tripling their fortune. That was the year they watched Samuel discovering the world, and they vowed never to employ children in a way that might snuff out that spark. And Rachel must have been twenty-two when he first came to work in her father’s office. But she had been the boss’s daughter, and he was only fourteen then and too scared and angry to notice her, let alone imagine that, five years after he arrived, she’d marry him, and another five years after that, she’d be dead.

“Mr. DeWitt?” His wife wore a concerned expression. “Are you all right? I hope I did not upset you.”

“Of course you upset me. You’ve upset everything. Go home.”

“I’m afraid that I can’t do that. You see, I have…”

“What? What?”

“Sisters.”

“Sisters.”

Ah. Yes. Lord Charles had mentioned daughters. Joshua couldn’t remember how many, only that it was a lot, and that they all risked being destitute if Joshua didn’t marry one of them, since Charlie was dead and daughters had to be married to inherit, and the one that was already married was a stepdaughter, and the one that was nearly married had been jilted, and all the others were too young.

Even now, his house might be overrun by giggling creatures in white gowns and colorful ribbons. He shuddered.

“Tell me there aren’t more of you,” he said. “Does my house have an infestation of sisters?”

“Only me, for now.”

“For now!”

“I mean to strengthen relations with my grandmother and—”

“Not the duchess!”

“You see, my sister—”

“No.”

“Because my mother—”

“No.”

“My other sister—”

“No.”

“Then myfather.”

She lifted her chin, with a hard look, proving that amiable did not mean soft.

“I had a debt to your father,” he said after a moment. “I discharged that debt by marrying you, ensuring your inheritance, and providing for your family’s material needs.”

“And we are all very grateful. But—”

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