The Replacement Husband by Eliot Grayson

Author:Eliot Grayson [Grayson, Eliot]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Smoking Teacup Books
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

“More tea?” his mother asked, her tone all solicitousness. Owen hid his wince as Arthur, his polite smile growing rather grim about the edges, held out his cup for the third time. He had never once seen Arthur voluntarily drink tea. He suspected that his mother had noticed too, and had forced the issue on this occasion because she had.

She set the teapot down on the table at the end of the settee she and Owen’s father occupied, and resettled herself opposite Owen with an air of perfect innocence. Owen’s father simply sipped his own tea and stayed out of it, as he was wont to do.

“Mama, not everyone likes tea as much as you do,” Owen said, trying for nonchalance. She had not wanted this marriage, but it was done and over, and surely she would reconcile herself to it. Surely she must. Owen sent up a heartfelt plea to his patron goddess that it would be at once.

“Nonsense,” his mother said, proving quite conclusively that Mirreith had chosen not to listen. Her tone had gone from bland to sweet, and every muscle in Owen’s body tensed. “You must learn your husband’s preferences a little better than that, my dear. I’m quite sure you’ve complimented my blend before, haven’t you, Mr. Drake?”

Owen turned his head in time to catch the quick but speaking glance Arthur threw his way from where he sat beside him. It conveyed both gratitude for Owen’s attempted intervention, and a plea — perhaps for Owen to either stop making matters worse, or to offer Arthur a swift death, he wasn’t sure which. “Yes, of course, madam. It’s delightful,” Arthur replied after a moment of awkward silence.

Arthur took a careful sip. Owen thought he heard him grind his teeth, hidden behind the rim of the cup. And that was more than enough of that. He loved his mother and father, truly, more than anyone in the world, but this was the outside of enough. Arthur must have the patience of Mirreith’s high priestess herself, and Owen had never been so mortified in all his life.

He set down his cup and stood. “I think we had best be going,” he said, narrowing his eyes at his mother in a way he hoped added, because you’re being horrid. “It’s more traditional for newlyweds to spend time at home, but Arthur thought it would please you to see me today, and so he offered to escort me.”

His father’s mouth opened, and for a moment Owen was sure he would say something nice, give one of the responses he hoped his praise of Arthur’s thoughtfulness might evoke.

And then his mother spoke first, addressing Arthur, not Owen. “Is there some reason why you objected to his visiting alone?”

Owen sputtered, and his father said, “Emma,” and Arthur’s strained voice cut through it all with, “What precisely are you implying, ma’am?”

A cold silence descended, as his mother’s face turned a shade of cherry-red that could not possibly be healthy, and his father gaped like a hooked fish.

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