The Nuisance Wife

by Camille Oster

  "Eliza," she heard as she walked across the road. The hair along her arms rose, because she knew that voice.

  Pausing, she turned to see Caius, looking dark and dapper. The years away hadn’t tarnished his handsomeness. Oh the lengths she’d thought about his handsomeness as they’d been courting. She hadn't believed her luck that such a man had been interested in her. But like anything that had felt too good to be true, it had fallen apart.

  "Caius," she said, quelling the urge to turn on her heels and walk away. "You have come to see me again. That's… considerate. I am quite well if you’re inquiring?"

  "Excuse me?" he said absently, looking confused. Clearly he wasn't here to see if she’d recovered from her illness. And it seemed this was another thing that couldn’t be left to the solicitors to deal with.

  "How can I assist you, Caius?"

  "Uhmm," he started, not looking her in the eyes, which suggested this conversation was to be awkward and uncomfortable. So how about they don’t have it? "Could we have a word?"

  "We are having a word, right now. State your business and we can both go."

  "It is a little more delicate in nature."

  "Nothing we have going on between us is delicate in nature. Please just state what you want and then go."

  "You never professed that what William Castle Garrick said was true."

  "What?"

  "You never admitted what he said was true. You always denied it."

  "I told you I would plead guilty and I intend to keep my word. You will have your guilty plea. We have an agreement."

  Annoyance dripped like ice along her nerves, and she crossed her arms. Why was he here? What did he want? Was he some kind of masochist who wanted details about this supposed tryst she'd had with that man?

  With straight back, he regarded her. There was discomfort in him. "It has come to my attention that William Castle Garrick has made a habit of lying about such things."

  Eliza blinked. For so long that was the one thing she’d wanted him to say. She'd wanted him to see what had happened, but he'd refused to. But it was too late now. None of this mattered now. "What that man does is irrelevant. You have your guilty plea. I am very busy and I must go. Good day."

  Mostly she had to get away from there because she could feel tears tickling the back of her eyes. Why would he come and say such a thing now? What was the point of it? Was this some means to torture her?

  With quick steps, she walked away.

  "Because if the accusations he made are untrue, and I think they are, then we have no grounds for divorce,” he called.

  Eliza's step faltered, but she refused to turn around. She only half turned back. "You have no idea what I have done in the time you have been gone."

  "What have you done in the time I was gone?"

  The truth was, nothing. She’d done nothing but circumvent her marriage vows and now she was being punished for it. "None of your business," she said sharply. "You ensured that."

  Unwilling to listen to another word, Eliza marched away, her steps sharp, covering as much ground as she could. She had no idea where she was going, but tears were threatening, and she made her way into an alley before the sobs came.

  How could he do this to her? Why? What was the point of this? They had set the course. It could not change now. And then to come along and say the things she’d wanted him to say, years too late? What was the point of that? It was stupid and it was cruel.

  Wracking sobs came and then subsided, and she stood leaning her forehead against the cool bricks of a wall. It stunk in this alley, she realized, but she felt reticent leaving the safety of the alley in case he roamed out there.

  Tentatively she stepped out, but he wasn't in sight. Her appetite had completely fled, so she walked back to the warehouse and took herself to her office where she closed the door, hoping to shut the world out.

  With heaviness, she sat down in her chair, not sure she now was as recovered as she'd thought. Her energy had fleeted entirely.

  Chapter 21:

  GRIMLY, CAIUS STARED at the fire, sitting by the chair in near darkness. It had been a tormenting few days, and then the particularly grim task of informing Eliza of what he'd learnt. He could still recall Eliza's shocked dismay, and how she’d rushed to get away from him. Although what he’d expected, he didn't know. Going to see her had been a kneejerk reaction.

  "Would you like some candles lit?" Mr. Jones asked.

  He shook his head. "The dark suits me at the moment."

  "Is everything alright, my lord?"

  Caius didn't answer for a while. "Have you ever been falsely accused of something?"

  "Can't say that I have. Not so I recall in any case. But I have known men who have been."

  "And what should be done in such cases?"

  "Things must be put right. Often, I have found, there are vested interests in sweeping such things away."

  Caius suspected Mr. Jones was talking of things in the military, where accusations could have severe consequences. Still, there were always those who wished to ignore travesties of justice to save the embarrassment of making the wrong decision.

  While there may be no hanging involved here, the consequences for Eliza were severe, and she'd been doing her best to mitigate them.

  "Even if the victim also wants things swept under the carpet?"

  "It would still be a lie," Mr. Jones stated, and Caius shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Not only was it a lie, but it would be breaking what was in essence sacred vows. In front of God and people in their lives, he stood in front of a priest and promised he would take care of her.

  By providing her a stipend, he'd felt he'd discharged his obligations to the same level that she had hers. Except that part hadn't been true. "Yes, a lie," Caius said absently. "Thank you. You can retire. I shall need nothing else tonight."

  With a quick nod, Mr. Jones left, leaving Caius feeling no better. No better, but newly determined. To continue with this divorce would be propagating a lie. And any way you cut, it wasn't right. Eliza had never broken her vows.

  As she’d pointed out, he had no idea what she’d done in his absence, especially as she was entertaining a man in her parlor when he’d come to call. But then how could he blame her for what she’d done after he’d deserted the marriage, particularly now that divorce was impending.

  Except it wasn't, because their grounds for divorce was as big a lie as what William Castle Garrick had claimed. And continuing with this divorce then had to be as gravely wrong.

  Getting up, he moved to his desk and pulled a piece of letter parchment toward him and wrote to his solicitors, explaining that the divorce would not proceed. Carefully he folded it and melted wax to seal it.

  When done, it sat on his desk and he felt better. However they were to proceed with this, it wasn't going to be through the means of a lie.

  And Eliza would not have her reputation decimated in the press and every salon in the country. That would be spared her, but he also knew that she wouldn’t be happy with this decision. If she would come to understand it, he didn't know. Her reaction when he'd spoken to her suggested she wouldn't be pleased.

  Truthfully, he left lighter than he had in years. With this decision made, his mood changed entirely and it didn't suit now to glumly sit by the fire and commiserate. In fact, he wanted a drink, and he wondered if he should walk over to the pub a few streets over. It wasn't the best pub in town, and its selection of whiskey was mediocre at best, but right now, he wanted a drink, and maybe even people around him while he had it.

  *

  His head pounded as he woke to bright sunlight in the morning, having forgotten to draw the curtains last night. There had been a few whiskeys, particularly as his newly found drinking mate had mistakenly assumed that he was getting married, when he’d tried to explain that he had decided not to un-marry.

  It had been a nice evening, probably the happiest one he’d spent in quite a while. Making a friend like one only did in a drinking est
ablishment. A friendship that would last only one night, but curiously congenial for it.

  Whatever he'd felt about not getting divorced, it had a significant consequence in that he and Eliza were still married and would continue to be married, and their relationship was in tatters. There were no grounds for divorce, hence they would not divorce.

  The discussion with her the previous day hadn’t gone well. It had been a shock to her—he'd seen it on her face. In a way, they’d both suffered shocks in the last few days, so now it was perhaps time to discover what they had and what they could do.

  He needed to speak to her again, but it wouldn't be easy doing so. Leaning over, he picked up his watch and saw it was well past nine. Eliza would probably have left the house already. She wouldn't be there for him to simply call on her. In fact, most of their discussions tended to be on the street, except that time when she'd been sick and that man had attended her.

  Perhaps one of the things they needed to establish was to what degree that man was in her life. Her landlord, she’d said when she'd introduced them. By the looks of it, he wasn't overly at ease in her house, so it didn't seem as if he'd spent any degree of time there. But there were intentions with a man who visited a sick lady. This man had some intention with Eliza. That much was clear.

  It constituted a truly awkward situation, but the fact was that he and Eliza were still married and they were not getting a divorce. They had no cause to. She’d done nothing wrong. And after he'd abandoned her, he could hardly blame her for making a life for herself. Because the truth was that he’d abandoned her. Renewed unease washed through him. Why had he not listened? She'd tried to tell him, but he'd refused to hear it. And then he’d sent her packing. Not just that, but he’d left the country, specifically so he would be out of her reach. So that he didn't have to think or talk about her.

  All the wrongs he had done her and then threatened to divorce her.

  So this man, who in some way was in her life, perhaps Caius should simply be grateful that the man hadn't harmed her, because her husband had certainly not been there to defend her against anyone who'd sought to.

  All in all, he'd been a terrible husband. On some level, it was understandable that she wanted to not veer from the course they were on.

  No, it would be best to see her at that warehouse where she seemed to spend most of her days. Perhaps if she was amenable, they could discuss things in a nearby pub or coffee house. But he wasn't sure amenable was her intent at the moment. Truthfully, he wasn't sure how she would take this. Obviously she knew they had no grounds for divorce.

  A soft knock sounded at his door and he answered. As expected, Mr. Jones had arrived to deliver a letter.

  Tension rose inside him as he wondered if it was from Eliza, but saw his sister's handwriting. Most of the letters he'd received in the last few years had been from his sister, so he knew her handwriting well. Cracking the seal, he opened. She was coming to visit, it seemed. Likely she wanted a front row seat in this debacle, he thought bitterly.

  Putting it to side, he forgot about it, having bigger things to worry about today than the forthcoming arrival of his sister. Dressing, he didn't waste time, even if a cup of coffee would do wonders for any lingering effects from the night before.

  Having decided what to do, he wanted to get this over with. Easier than to let such things linger on his mind. Only once they'd had this discussion would he know where they stood from her perspective.

  It could be that today she saw it as a relief as a divorce would be devastating for her life, including her business. As she dealt with charities, they wouldn't take well to dealing with a divorced woman. Saving this marriage would save the business too.

  Many wouldn’t like to see their wives engaged with such a business, but it seemed to be a passion for her and he would support her any way he could. That could perhaps be an ice breaker for this conversation they were just about to have.

  "I will be going out for a while," he said to Mr. Jones when he returned. "I will ride, I think."

  Mr. Jones nodded and went off to tell the stable lad. And Caius waited in his hallway for his horse to be brought to him. He hated to admit it, but he was nervous to face Eliza. At the same time, he was hopeful. This could be a new start for them. They could erase all the unfortunate unpleasantness that had been and start again. It was interesting to think that was possible.

  Chapter 22:

  ELIZA SIMPLY STARED at Mr. Henry open-mouthed as he stood waiting on her answer for if he could show her husband in. It's not a good time, she wanted to say, but she had also known this was coming, so she chided herself for being a coward. This had to be faced.

  "Yes, I suppose," she said with little heart. "And then perhaps leave us to our discussion."

  The older man looked at her for a moment. "You sure?"

  "Quite sure."

  Teresa was on her way to Bournemouth, which meant she could not be depended on to assist if this turned out to be uncomfortable. Not that she expected Caius to be violent in any way, as perhaps Teresa would fear from her own history with husbands.

  As she waited, she wrung her hands together. "Caius," she said as he appeared and closed the door. They could still be seen, and from the corner of her eye, she saw Mr. Henry lurking. It was nice that he was concerned, but she should have told him it was entirely unnecessary. Caius was not a violent man, but then again, who knew how he’d changed with the passing years.

  He wore dark clothes today, finely tailored and she wondered if his clothes were new and more fitting of Lord Warwick. As usual, he never failed to be handsome. The age serving his face well.

  "Do I take it that by your appearance here, you have concocted a solution to our situation?"

  "Yes, I have reached a solution."

  Nervousness bit deep inside her stomach, but she wasn't entirely sure why.

  "We are to remain married."

  "What? No!"

  "As I said, we have no cause for divorce."

  "If it is cause you need, I am sure I can provide some."

  His jaw was tight and he wasn't looking at her. This wasn't something he relished. Neither of them seemed to, just like every time they spoke. He shifted slightly. "I cannot blame you for the things you have done since I abandoned you."

  It was the first time he admitted that he’d abandoned her. During the meeting with the solicitors, he’d said the opposite, that by providing her with a monthly stipend, he hadn’t abandoned her. Legally, that was the case.

  "Well that is very magnanimous that you forgive me for…" her voice faltered and she couldn't finish the sentence. Her anger and outrage threatened to overwhelm her, but she was trying to calm herself.

  "And I’m not entirely sure how we will continue. Cordially, I hope. In time perhaps—"

  "In time?" She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Did he have some notion that they could simply pick up where they’d left off? No, that was not possible. "No," she said flatly. "As inordinately pleased I am that you forgive me," she said, trying to rein in her sarcasm. “The truth is that I do not forgive you."

  "I admit that I bear responsibility."

  "You failed utterly. I did nothing wrong and you wouldn't even listen to me. What good were you as a husband? What good are you as a husband? You failed at the very first hurdle. Such a husband is not worth having." Words were coming out of her mouth and she had no control over them. It was the truth, and it flowed straight from her heart and out of her mouth.

  "Yes," was all he said. Again he refused to look at her and that only made her more angry.

  "So I don't want to be married to you. I want someone better." Again she had no control over what she was saying, but still, she couldn't regret it. "I want to put this behind me and never think about it, or you again."

  "But we cannot."

  "You say that. You are the one saying we can't."

  "Because you didn't break your vows."

  "What do vows mean now? What vows did you keep?"<
br />
  "We do not have grounds for divorce."

  "How do you know? You don't know me at all. And I have come to realize that you never did."

  "That is not true."

  "Really? Because you seemed to not have known my character in the least bit."

  "Yes, I faltered, but I do know your character. I know that you haven't broken your vows."

  "How could you possibly know that? You weren't here. You left. You know nothing of my life. You chose not to be in it."

  "Have you?"

  The question stumped her, because the answer was no. It had been a point of pride, refusing to even consider anything that would break her vows.

  "The only reason you say so now is because someone else has confirmed to you that I didn't. It's the only reason you’re here. Someone else's word. Not mine. You were quite happy to condemn me a mere week back."

  "I'm sorry."

  "You're sorry," she said with a snort. "What good is that to me?"

  "And I am sorry we are in this position. I take full responsibility."

  This was all getting too much for her. She couldn't bear any more, so she walked past him to the door.

  "Eliza," he called, but she refused to listen. "I did this. And I will bear the consequences."

  "What consequences?" she demanded, her anger reasserting itself again. "What possible consequences are there for you?"

  "I will not force your hand in anything, so we will have the kind of relationship you deem for us to have. Even if you completely ignore your vows and take… lovers."

  Anger and sadness were fighting so fiercely inside her, she couldn't get anything out. "You are quite the martyr, aren't you, Caius?" she spat and fled as fast as she could before the tears came. Because if the tears came, he would probably try to comfort her and she would probably… hit him. "Then we will have nothing!" she yelled back, not even sure he heard.