I don’t deny I married Jonathan Cardinal for the money. Quite a princely sum, in fact, which one would think would be flattering. Then again, the money doesn’t seem to mean much to my new husband.

I have been married for precisely fifteen hours, and my new husband is leaving. I’d left him in bed at a more sensible hour of the morning, had breakfast alone in the solar, and had settled myself with a family history when a maid had called me to the front hall.

“Jonathan,” I say to the man directing servants with trunks out the door. “What are you doing?”

He looks up at me, not a hint of guilt on his face. He is objectively handsome - square jaw, shiny black hair, symmetrical nose, high cheekbones, the works - but his face does not make up for his behaviour. 

“Sorry, Miss Harley. I must have forgotten to mention I’d be leaving.” He smiles a dazzling smile, giving off a practiced air of embarrassment.

I make my way down the stairs. “One, I am not Ellis Harley, I am Ellis Cardinal, your legal wife, and second, you surely do not mean to disgrace me by leaving the morning after your own wedding.”

He drops his eyes to the floor. The servants have stopped loading the carriage outside, watching us closely.

Jonathan takes my hand. “I am sorry, Ellis. I promised my friend I would help him with a business meeting. I didn’t realize it was right after our wedding.”

“You need all this for a business meeting?” I count four trunks, notwithstanding any hand luggage that might already be inside the carriage. 

Again with the sheepish smile. “I may need to stay a few days in the capital.”

I consider my options. I may be his wife, but I’ve been here barely three days - my parents are still here, for goodness’s sake - and I have very little authority to lean on. I could send for Jonathan’s father, but that wouldn’t be much different from tattling like a child. And why exactly do I care? Jonathan’s reputation will not disappear overnight. At least this way no one will say I didn’t please him, not when he didn’t give me an opportunity to do so. 

I pull my hand from his. “Do hurry back,” I say, painting on a fake smile to match his. “We are newlyweds, after all.”

He beams. “You are so understanding, Ellis. I’m a lucky man.” This last is directed to the servants as much as me.

I sigh as he turns away, feeling a headache coming on. I am being paid to deal with this, I remind myself. 

On the upper floor, a girl in a sensible navy dress leans over the railing. The moment we make eye contact she runs off down the hall into the depths of the house. 

Right. This is going to be a long day.

In the solar, where I am hoping to relax with maybe some iced tea and a decent book, I find my mother. 

If there is any justice in this world, she won’t ask about Jonathan. But if there was justice in the world, I would not have needed to marry him.

“Ellis, you need to call a dressmaker here as soon as possible,” Mother says before I even sit down. “You need to dress according to your station. You are lucky to have married up, you know.”

Of course I know. She’s only been saying so incessantly for the past month. I settle myself on the opposite sofa and finish my lukewarm tea.

“Where’s my new son in law?”

“Apparently he has business in the capital.”

Her eyes go wide. “Then what are you doing up here? Go stop him?”

“How, exactly?”

“The same way any woman persuades a man.” She bats her eyelashes.

“Mother, Jonathan has about as much interest in me as he does a horse’s behind.”

Mother snaps open her fan. “Ellis, language!”

I ignore her and take a cream puff from the astonishing assortment of snacks Mother has apparently had brought to her. The mahogany coffee table is absolutely covered in tiny sweet things. A waste, really, but who am I to question a three hundred year old social structure?

“At least we won’t have to listen to him at dinner,” says Maeve. She is sprawled on the window seat with a book. I hadn’t even noticed her. 

“Maeve Harley!” Mother snaps, fanning herself again. 

Following my example, Maeve ignores her. “Likely this is the sort of thing that got him divorced to begin with.”

Yes, lucky me. A second wife at the tender age of twenty six.

I have few reasons to complain, really. When the letter came proposing our marriage, I almost dismissed it as a prank. Me, bookworm, fallen noble, tomboy Ellis Harley, a duchess? Had the sky fallen? I went from a country girl with no prospects to the fiancee of the most eligible bachelor in Halmvast in a few short sentences. 

The list of benefits far outweighed the drawbacks. A few months of my new allowance would keep my family wealthy until my sisters married, at which time I could easily provide them proper dowries. The marriage contract also offered me personal ownership of two properties in the capital and an easy divorce once Jonathan’s nephew Colin came of age. 

As Duke Cardinal, my new father-in-law, explained on our first meeting, the Cardinals lacked a lady of the house to manage internal affairs. Jonathan’s older brother and his wife had fulfilled this role until their deaths a year ago, at which point Jonathan’s former wife took over. Following his divorce, the Cardinal household was reduced to one old widower, one errant son, and three orphaned children. Put this way, I could understand why Duke Cardinal wanted his remaining son married as soon as possible. He’d selected me for my school marks and lack of social history, scandalous or otherwise, he said. And my father said school was a waste of my time.

My past self was a bit too optimistic, I realize. For example, I’d forgotten to consider that my parents would visit the Cardinal estate for the wedding.

“Your family cannot stay indefinitely,” says Duke Cardinal, echoing my thoughts. 

I’m sitting in his office, having escaped my mother with his summons. Unlike the solar, the duke’s office is clad in shades of brown and black. Portraits of the family hang along one wall, while giant bookshelves line the other. Duke Cardinal’s massive desk is piled with neat stacks of papers, and the rest of the room is just as pristine. The dark blue couches highlight every little wrinkle in my plain blue day dress. 

“I agree,” I tell him. “Shall I give them a departure date, Your Grace?”

He grunts. I think he likes me, but I can’t quite tell. “And my useless son?”

“Gone to the capital,” I say, though he likely already knows.

Duke Cardinal scowls at his coffee. “I suppose his reputation can’t get much worse.” He sighs. “Get your parents gone soon so we can focus on teaching you the household management. I’ve far too much piled up as is.”

“Of course, Your Grace.” I scoop my skirt under me as I stand. 

“Introduce yourself again to the children,” he says as I leave. 

I close the door and lean against it for a moment. Patience, Ellis. These are small problems. These are problems I can solve.