The Baron's Betrayal by Callie Hutton

long-awaited meeting with his solicitor, to find a way to set Marion free so she could live a full life, had arrived. He’d sent instructions when he requested the meeting for the man to investigate what it would take to sever the marriage vows. He knew his solicitor to be a man of integrity and tenaciousness. If there was any way to allow them to move on with their lives, he would discover it.
    “So you have decided to proceed with your foolish plan to dispense with your wife?” Ellis asked, brushing the back of Tristan’s jacket.
    Tristan waved off Ellis’s remarks. “This does not concern you.”
    The valet moved in front of him and readjusted the neckcloth. “Someone has to point out your failings, my lord.”
    “I shall begin the search for a new valet as soon as I am through with McGregor,” Tristan mumbled.
    “If I find some free time this afternoon, I shall assist in the hunt. I will also be sure to advise candidates for the position of their prospective employer’s foolish flights of fancy, and lunacy,” Ellis replied.
    The man had been with him since St. George’s hospital in Lisbon. He had been a batman to an officer who had died in battle, leaving Ellis with no visible means of support. With Mrs. Gibbons unable to take care of Tristan’s personal needs, he’d hired the man as a valet when they’d left Lisbon. For some reason Ellis seemed to think because of their time together he could freely spew forth his opinions. And he generally did.
    “Nevertheless, you will dispense with your insubordination, and I shall leave your trying presence to meet with my solicitor.”
    With trepidation and fortitude, Tristan made his way downstairs, Argos on his heels. Dratted animal followed him everywhere. He knew Marion thought it a joke that the dog panted after him like an untried youth with an opera singer. However, for as much as he grumbled about the dog, he’d found a certain amount of comfort in the animal’s presence. He no longer felt completely alone when no one was nearby. He shook himself from such fanciful thoughts and entered the library.
    “John, I appreciate you coming so quickly.” Tristan extended his hand, and the other man grasped it, warm and solid. He and McGregor had been friends since Tristan’s parents’ deaths. John’s father had been named as trustee for the inheritance young Tristan had received. Once John had joined his father in his law practice, he’d taken over Tristan’s legal work.
    They’d spent some time together when Tristan was living incognito in London, but this was the first time John had made the trip to Donridge Heath.
    “It is wonderful to see you. And I must say, you are looking splendid.” The leather chair in front of his desk creaked as the man settled into it. Tristan moved around the desk and sat, resting his cane against the edge of the desk, noting the rustle of Argos stretching out alongside his chair.
    “I assume you bring me news on the problem I had Mr. Landers write you about?”
    “Indeed. I did quite a bit of research, mostly to familiarize myself with the Hardwicke Marriage Act and any cases that have been brought before Parliament since the law passed.”
    “And what have you found?”
    McGregor cleared his throat to the sound of papers shifting about. “Before I start, I must strongly voice my disapproval of your plan, my lord. It was difficult enough watching your estate languish while the courts waited for sufficient time to pass to declare you dead. As you know, it placed me in an uncomfortable position.
    “But now this attempt to somehow relieve your wife of her marriage vows is foolish at best and social suicide at worst.”
    Tristan sighed in frustration. “I fear I must warn you it will be necessary for you to join the queue to make known your opinion. I find as the day wears on that no one in my employ seems to think chastising the man who pays their salary is inappropriate.”
    John continued. “If it is truly your intention