“Tristan?”
He blinked, trying to recall where he had left off in his conversation with Julian.
His friend raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Your wife?”
“I think she is well.”
They had not talked in the carriage. He remembered the awkwardness, the tension. Too focused on ensuring that his knees didn’t knock into her own, he couldn’t think of anything else. Especially with her sweet floral perfume permeating the air. He had needed to sneeze, so once they were inside his home, he’d rushed off to blow his nose in private.
Surely, we are better for it. Not needing to speak. And the servants will take good care of her. They know their duties.
“Have you asked her about your marriage or how she feels about it? About you? About anything?” Julian prompted as they resumed walking.
They took a winding path through the trees without any particular direction. Already the air grew thicker. Rain was inevitable, though it would probably not stop Julian from taking his leave.
What a fool he is, taking needless risks. The man is a rake and a scoundrel. He cheats time and will surely have an early end if he is not careful. And worst of all, he refuses to listen to reason. If anyone needs to get married, it is Julian.
But Tristan knew better than to say that. Everyone knew Julian’s thoughts on marriage, given his parents’ unhappy union. He was there to enjoy his life and nothing else. So he would cheerfully and gladly leave this evening no matter the weather.
A blessing, Tristan told himself, so he wouldn’t have to suffer questions like these. He thought about lying or changing the subject. But when he glanced at his friend, Julian appeared in earnest. And an earnest question deserved the truth.
“I have not asked her,” Tristan admitted. “I don’t believe she cares for me or my attention, so it may be best to keep our distance. Besides, I know that she prefers a quiet life, and she can maintain her current lifestyle without me.”
“What the devil is that supposed to mean?” Julian shook his head in confusion. “You could indeed remain strangers, or you could at least attempt to like your wife. I cannot always be here for you, Tristan, nor can the others. If you will not take a mistress, why not at least try to enjoy your wife? You might try a little harder in this relationship than the last.”
That stirred heat in Tristan’s chest. While his friends didn’t know all of the circumstances of his first marriage, they already knew enough. They had noticed how little he grieved when Cassandra passed.
Still, it was a subject they had never broached. Hearing Julian bringing it up now only irritated him further. His hands clenched into fists as he held back the feelings rising inside him.
“You don’t know what you speak of,” he barked.
Julian took a step back, before giving him a look. “Would you speak of it if I were willing to listen?”
“There is nothing to speak of,” Tristan muttered, changing his mind.
Snorting, Julian shook his head. “Exactly what I knew you would say. You never change, Tristan. It is a good thing, but not always. This one is not the last one. Your wife could be good for you.”
“I look forward to the day you marry and I try to convince you to make the most of your marriage as well,” Tristan scoffed.
That only made his friend chuckle. “Except I have no intention of marrying. I cannot be ordered or tricked or begged into marriage. Someone else in the family will inherit the title when I meet my creator. But you’re different, Tristan. You always were. So, as I told your Duchess, I wish you the best of luck.”
In the distance, near the front of the manor, stood one of Julian’s servants, waving in their direction. It was time for him to go. He grinned and offered a ridiculous bow that made Tristan snort.
They said their final farewells there, so Julian could be on his way without further distractions. Tristan promised to write and then watched the man go.
They were friends. The best of friends in every way he could imagine. Though sometimes he felt he was too private a fellow for such a thing.
But I suppose it’s something I should know after all these years. Friends and wives seem to be inevitable. They will continue on their way, and I shall… resume mine.
Tristan headed back to the manor, rounding the garden and making a beeline to his preferred back entrance. He liked familiarity. The same things in his life. It provided a sort of comfort and ease to carry out his duties. Everyone else could sort out the rest.
Still, he knew he couldn’t control everything. Just like he knew he couldn’t control people. So he often avoided them.
And here I go, bringing another person into my life.
He exhaled and stopped in his tracks as something skittered down his spine. Already he knew he couldn’t reach that spot.
Frowning, he lifted his head. A rain droplet fell on his nose. Looking up, he spotted movement at a window on the second floor. Light flickered, and there stood his wife.
