Page 22 of Dukes for Dessert

“What is in a name?” David smiled as Laurie looked befuddled at the question. “You see, my dear fellow, I am slightly acquainted with Miss Tierney. She is the niece of an old friend of mine. This friend is most distressed for her.”

“You know my wife?” Sudden rage crossed Laurie’s face. “Good Lord, have you come to offer your testimony of crim con as well?”

David pretended to look puzzled, tamping down his desire to punch Laurie’s protruding nose. That Laurie instantly believed David had tumbled Sophie increased the boiling inside him.

He kept his tone calm. “You mean have I had criminal conversation with Miss Tierney? No, no. You misunderstand me. I barely know the gel. But my friend, he was like a father to me, and I hate to see him unhappy. I am here to ask, on his behalf, for you to give up the divorce.”

Laurie blinked. Not what he’d expected. Laurie settled into his chair, which he’d half risen out of, looking thoughtful. “I am sorry your friend is distressed, but I have already begun the proceeding. My wife, sadly, is an adulteress. I have two of her lovers willing to appear in court and say so.”

David came out of his slouch and sat forward, changing from old acquaintance begging for a favor to the man who would take charge of the room.

“Now, old chap, you and I both know Miss Tierney is nothing of the sort,” David said. “The gentlemen who are testifying to the crim con are friends of yours, paid handsomely for their efforts. Their reputations will not suffer too much, and they’ll be rewarded for coming to your aid. I know all this, because I’ve spoken to them, and both confessed everything to me.” Sinclair and Eleanor had many connections, and had helped David make appointments besides this one.

Laurie flushed, uneasiness settling upon him. “Does it matter? My marriage is at an end. If the dear laws of England would let me finish it without all this mess, I certainly would.”

“Yes, declaring ‘I divorce you,’ three times and tossing her out of your tent would be much easier.”

“Quite.” Laurie clearly did not understand the reference, just as he had no idea what was inside any of the books in this wonderful library. “But I must take my wife to court, or I will not be free to remarry.”

“And that is the crux of the matter, is it not?” David pinned Laurie with a gaze worthy of Basher McBride. “You wish to marry another. I understand that. Therefore, you must legally end your current marriage. But have you not thought of annulment? There will still be legal papers to wade through, but annulment is much less scandalous. You and Miss Tierney have no children to worry about, is that correct? None to become suddenly illegitimate when the marriage is declared invalid?”

“No sons, no.” Laurie scowled. “No offense to your friend, but his niece never came up to scratch in that way.”

David raised his brows. The rage inside him danced about, seeking release. He had already decided how to let it out, in a way it would be most effective, but it was difficult not to simply grab Laurie and bang his face into his desk.

“Really?” David drawled. “Or is it that your little man isn’t up to the task?”

Laurie’s expression went dark. “Of course that is not the case. Why would you even suppose such a thing? When children don’t come, it is the woman’s fault. Childbearing is up to them.”

David could put forth plenty of medical arguments to prove Laurie wrong, but he let the statement pass. “So, no children whose lives you will ruin. Then why not annulment?”

“An annulment is not such a simple thing,” Laurie said impatiently. “To declare a marriage invalid is difficult. There are certain conditions that must be met. Trust me, I looked into it.”

“Yes, I do imagine your solicitors with their heads together day and night scheming, scheming. Let me see, if I recall, the conditions are …”

David paused as though trying to remember, but he knew damn well what they were. Sinclair had gone over the process of annulment with him meticulously, but David was more interested in what Lackwit Laurie knew.

“One is if we are too closely related,” Laurie finished for him. “I studied our family trees, and Lady Devonport and I are not even remotely connected.” He looked disdainful. “Her family is far inferior to mine, which I should have noted long before she dazzled me.”

David barely refrained from spitting at him. He touched his fingers, counting off. “Very well, then. That possibility has been wiped away. Next?”

“That we have already contracted a previous marriage. I had not.” Laurie pressed his hands to his chest, a virtuous man.

“What about Miss Tierney? You could not find a marriage in her past—or at least, invent one?”

“I thought of that.” Laurie looked regretful. “But claiming she married another before me—that would have to be proved.”

“Yes, I can see it would be ticklish. You’d have to produce documentation, witnesses, perhaps the vicar who performed the service. Even if Miss Tierney had married on the Continent, a judge here would want to send for the documents there.”

“I say, why do you keep referring to her as Miss Tierney?” Laurie looked affronted. “She is still my wife, at least legally, for now.”

“Because if you annul the marriage, as I believe you can, she will never have been the Countess of Devonport. Therefore, her true name is Miss Tierney.”

Lackwit had to work through that. “I see.”

“Let us resume—Miss Tierney is not a close relation. Nor is she currently married to another. I would choose the next point on which a marriage can be annulled—insanity—on your part, I mean—but alas, that also would require testimony. And Miss Tierney was of marriageable age when you wedded—too many witnesses to that.” David touched his last finger, unable to hide his glee. “But I believe another reason for annulment is …”

“What?” Laurie said irritably. “We have run through them all. Except …” His face went red as he realized where David was leading him.