The Stanhope Challenge - Regency Quartet - Four Regency Romances by Cerise DeLand

come only twice a year. They were not sizable enough to pay the bills. She told me she would have to find work.”
    “Work?” Adam was appalled as much at the very idea of his wife employed, as the idea that he never knew, never suspected, she needed to do so. “Doing what?”
    “Typesetting.”
    Jack spit his tea across the room.
    Adam scrubbed a hand over his face. “How in hell…?”
    Jack tugged a handkerchief from his weskit pocket.
    Amaryllis sipped her tea nonchalantly. “Remember that her father owned the publishing company that Howell bought. Felice knew how to set hot type from the age of four.”
    “Has she been setting type for Howell?” Adam demanded. “Is this what you are trying to tell me? That she is or was employed by him, and she set the words that have ruined my career?”
    “I am telling you that she took money from Howell, yes. And though she did not set the type, she did write those stories for the TellTale .”
    Adam reeled with rage and despair. “My god. Can she hate me that much?”
    “On the contrary, she loves you to distraction.”
    The words rippled through his bloodstream. “How can that be if she and Howell—?”
    “Whatever has occurred there, Adam, dear boy, is nothing to what you and she could have together.”
    Jack, who was still using his handkerchief to brush off his breeches, snorted. “Superb! No wonder the curse is operating at full throttle.”
    “Absurd!” Amaryllis shot back. “The curse operates only if you let it. Only if you fail to see that marriage is not set in stone from inception but a movable feast for rational men and women who know how to compromise…and forgive.”
    “What am I forgiving here, Aunt?” Adam probed. “Other than myself for not asking the right questions of my bride? Do I accuse myself of short-sightedness without taking my wife to task?”
    “I think you must first talk with Drayton Howell. And then with your wife.”
    Adam sneered. “If I see Howell, I will not talk. I will strangle him.”
    “Well, then, dearest,” his aunt smiled serenely as she handed him a piece of parchment with a name scrolled upon it, “I think you need to call upon this gentleman before Howell or Felice.”
    Adam took one look at the name on his aunt’s stationery and balked. “Crammer? The leader of the opposition? He would rather chop off his own nuts before—”
    Jack said, “Whoa.”
    Aunt Amyrillis said, “Please.”
    Adam threw up his hands. “Very well. I will do it. I promise. Thank you for the enlightening conversation, Aunt. I am so full of tea and remonstrance, I shall leave. And quickly, too.” Adam kissed his aunt on both cheeks and bid her good day, Jack on his heels.
    But as Adam climbed into his carriage, Jack halted and told the coachman to wait a minute. He trotted off out of sight.
    In a minute, he returned, climbed in beside Adam and shoved a broadsheet into his hands.
    “What’s this?” he asked Jack.
    “The newest TellTale. Best you see this now. I just bought this from the boy on the corner.”
    Adam opened the paper Jack handed him. It was his own party’s crier.
    He read the headline and fell back into the squabs. “Damn it to bloody hell! I cannot believe it.”
    “But will you do it?” Jack asked.
    “Resign?”
    Jack stared at him.
    Adam was wide-eyed with shock. “ Ulmsly wants me to resign ? Never!”

Chapter Ten
    The hall clock chimed half eight before Felice returned home. Adam had told his butler to notify him the moment she arrived, and she took her time climbing the stairs to their bedroom. Indeed, she took so long, Adam almost thought her to have fled the house instead of come to face him. He was wrong.
    She opened the door and stood on the threshold for countless moments, her gaze locked on his as he sat ensconced in his wingchair waiting for her.
    Her leghorn hat was a flat sodden mess. Her hair, always curly, was a riot from the humidity of the rainy day. Her slippers were soaked. The hem of her