A Marriage Most Inconvenient (Inconvenient Matches Book #1)

Chapter 49: The Dowager

Lady Amelia Montgomery was under no illusions that she was the most loving mother in England. She was strict, demanding, and most would even say cold, but that did not make the fact that she loved her children with every breath in her body less true. The part of her that was able to show love had been broken by the death of her parents, fractured further still by her husband's vices and then killed altogether with the death of her firstborn.
Yes, she loved all her children so very deeply but a mother always had a special place in her heart for a daughter. And because she had never been the sort to show just how much she loved her daughter, she had done the next best thing.

Instead of playing games and sharing jokes with her children, she had done what she could to make sure that they would grow to be responsible adults that could deal with the realities of the world they occupied. She had thought she had raised an intelligent daughter who knew that the men of their sphere were feckless animals incapable of loyalty and that she needed to only bide her time until she was free. After a child or two, she need not even stay in the same estate as her husband.

She had protected her daughter the best way she knew how. She had encouraged her to accept the suit of an influential and wealthy man, to ensure that she would always command the respect and adoration of their society. She would have the wealth and security Amelia lacked as a young woman, newly wedded to a man who loved the opium-wrought oblivion more than he loved breathing. She would have a plethora of friends, invitations to whichever event she wished to attend. Ophelia would have wanted for nothing. Amelia had even been involved in the formation of the Marriage Contract, ensuring her daughter got a monthly stipend from her husband and that all his unentailed properties would be deeded to her upon his death.

And that foolish girl was going to throw it all away for a servant?

And Amelia waited to rage and frustration to somehow quell the tears that were trying to escape her eyes, but all that she could see was how Charles' casket had been lowered into the ground, her firstborn gone from the world. Except now, she could not help but wonder how on earth she would ever survive doing this a second time.

Benedict. Poor, darling, responsible boy that he was, he would break in ways she was not sure he could recover from. He would find a way to place blame on his shoulders, when the blame lay with his wife.

She would never forgive that woman if something happened to her daughter. She would not bloody rest until Benedict had sent that woman back to the Colonies where she would not plague them with her flagrant lack of self-control ever again. If so much as a hair on her daughter's head was hurt, she would make sure that Minerva's life in England was finished.

As Needham railed at her staff to ready the carriage, Amelia clenched her jaw in irritation. The man was being unseemly.

'Needham, keep your voice down or do you intend to alert the entire neighborhood?'

'Don't fucking tell me what to do you decrepit old bitch.' Needham reared on her with such menace that she was taken aback. His face was flushed red with both his excess in drink and his temper; he was taking heaving breaths looking more akin to a raging bull than a human being. Much less a gentleman.

'Mind your insolent tongue, boy!' Her own temper rose to the occasion and she was almost frightened by how quickly he changed his tune. He straightened up and his mouth spread into a wide, predatory grin. Discomfiture settled into her very bones as he took an almost mockingly elegant, sweeping bow.

'Curse my wayward tongue. I apologize heartily to you, Your Grace. I am merely worried for my wife and I momentarily took leave of my sense.' He tipped his head in apparent shame and offered her his hand as the carriage pulled up in front of them. 'Shall we?'