Page 94 of Yours Truly, the Duke
Soul-searching was a damned hard thing to do, especially since he’d never done much of it. The process ate at his inner being little by little as he tried to figure out where he went wrong and how he could repair his relationship with Fredericka.
Life was filled with decisions. Some more difficult than others. He’d had responsibilities to his friends, the club, and the hospital since he’d funded it almost ten years ago. That had always come first. Fredericka was supposed to have been a convenience. Nothing more. She had become a necessity. Now she was his life and it was time she came first.
His father was right about wives. They were a lot of trouble. Wyatt smiled. But the difference was that Fredericka was worth every minute of trouble she gave him and he had no doubts about changing his lifestyle for her. Forever.
“Perhaps you should start thinking about giving that brandy in your glass a try if you are going to get your head out of your heart and into the game tonight?” Rick said as a round of laughter came from the taproom on the other side of the wall.
Wyatt looked from Hurst to Rick as they joined him at the table. So, they’d been talking about him. He expected no less.
“Tell us what’s going on.” Hurst picked up the bottle of fine spirits and poured a splash in each of their glasses.
“Perhaps he needs us to help him write another romantic letter to Fredericka. And this time we’ll see he actually delivers it.”
“Rick,” Hurst cautioned, “I don’t think he is in a temper for your humor.”
“He is a blackguard,” Wyatt mumbled.
“True.” Rick pushed back from the table and leaned his chair on the back two legs as Hurst handed him the drink. “I’m grateful you continue to be my friend despite my wicked tongue and occasional attempt at amusing you. I don’t know much about wives, but tell us what’s wrong. Perhaps we can help.”
Wyatt picked up his brandy and swirled it in his glass. He’d never forget the image of the brandy glasses sitting in front of the children. Not just a splash in the crystal as Wyatt, Rick, and Hurst poured. No, they had filled the glasses to the top and emptied the entire bottle of the most expensive brandy money could buy. Kids didn’t do anything halfway. And the cheroots. He was throwing every blasted one of them away when he returned. All the expensive pipes and tobacco too. That was probably a bit drastic, but he was going to do it anyway.
I should have never left.
“Fredericka and I had an argument concerning the children.” He replaced his glass on the table after taking a sip.
“Is that all?” Rick quipped, as if it were the most banal statement he’d ever heard.
Hurst shrugged. “Don’t mind him. Arguments are normal between husbands and wives. Between friends, siblings, or with someone who accidently bumps you on the street.”
Wyatt had tried to convince Fredericka what the children had done was normal. That hadn’t worked. Maybe she was right and hewaswrong.
“As long as she’s been in London, I’m surprised it’s the first quarrel you two have had.”
Wyatt remained quiet.
“I see,” Rick added. “It wasn’t the first.”
Nor the second or third. “The others were manageable,” Wyatt admitted.
“That’s good to hear.” Hurst relaxed back into the chair with his drink. “Though you never said, we assumed she was upset about the incident in the park with the footpad.”
Wyatt nodded. “And several other things.”
“The children are all right, aren’t they?”
“Everyone is fine.”
“So that’s half the battle,” Hurst added, toasting his glass toward Wyatt. “No one’s hurt.”
“Just Fredericka. I said things I shouldn’t have.”
Hurst whistled under his breath and shot a glance toward Rick as he murmured, “That’s not good.”
“No doubt she did too,” Rick was quick to answer. “That’s usually what arguments are about. Throwing words around that you don’t really mean.”
Yes, but he deserved everything she’d said about him. She didn’t deserve what he’d said to her.
“It happens,” Hurst added. “Forgive, forget, and go on to a new day. She’ll be ready to make up by the time you return.”
