"The Marquess has done well for himself. And this is how you dismiss the wife who stood by you when you had nothing? A few coins?"
My voice carried just far enough for every servant and guard within earshot to hear every word. Finn's face went darker still.
He clenched his jaw and leaned in close. "What do you want from me? I said I'd bring you back. Can't you just take the child and wait a little longer? Just until tonight—"
I turned away with a cold smile, shifting my daughter in my arms as I walked toward the manor gates.
"Our daughter hasn't eaten in three days. I'm afraid she can't wait."
"Tell me, my lord, why are you so desperate to keep your own wife from stepping through the door? Is there something in there you'd rather I not see?"
I knew exactly why Finn didn't want me inside. The banquet hall was filled with the most powerful officials in the empire, and among them sat Imperial Consort Rosalind, the Emperor's most beloved consort.
Every guest seated comfortably at those tables believed that Edith Henson, his sister-in-law, was the rightful Lady of the Eastholm Marquessate.
A wife appearing out of nowhere was a problem Finn had no idea how to explain.