Improperly Wed (Aristocratic Grooms 3) - Page 14
Didn’t an annulment usually mean that a marriage had never existed?
Belinda rallied her reserves.
“You know quite a bit about dissolving a marriage even if you haven’t accomplished it successfully yourself,” she retorted. “Have you talked to a lawyer already?”
“You have. Why shouldn’t I?” he returned rather cryptically.
“That’s the difference between you and Tod. He hasn’t spoken with an attorney.” The last thing she needed was for the Dillinghams to resort to legal means to recoup their costs for the wedding fiasco.
Colin twisted his lips. “Pity. Because if he had, his lawyer would have told him just what my lawyer told me. If I choose to fight your divorce suit, you’ll remain my wife for quite a while longer.”
“So you plan to fight it?”
“With everything I’ve got.”
“I’ll win eventually.”
“Maybe, but I’m sure the Wentworths won’t appreciate the notoriety.”
He was right, Belinda thought with a sick feeling. If this scandal deepened, her family would be horrified. And she felt ill just thinking of the Dillinghams’ reaction.
“You’re the Marchioness of Easterbridge,” Colin said, driving his point home. “You might as well start using the title.”
Marchioness of Easterbridge. She was glad her ancestors weren’t around to hear this.
“It’s a good thing you chose to keep your surname on the Nevada marriage license,” Colin continued. “Otherwise, you’d have been erroneously representing yourself as Belinda Wentworth rather than Belinda Granville for more than two years.”
“I remember choosing to keep my name,” she shot back. “I wasn’t so completely off kilter that I don’t remember that detail.”
Somehow, it had been acceptable to marry Colin but not to take the Granville name.
Belinda Granville. It sounded worse than Marchioness of Easterbridge. Easterbridge was simply Colin’s title, whereas Granville had been the surname carried by his devious ancestors.
“Why are you doing this?” she blurted. “I can’t understand why we shouldn’t have a civilized divorce—or better yet, annulment.”
He sauntered toward her. “Can’t you? Nothing has been civilized between the Wentworths and the Granvilles for generations. The ending of our…encounter in Las Vegas is further evidence of it.”
Her eyes widened. “So it all goes back to that, doesn’t it?”
He stopped before her. “I intend to make a conquest of the Wentworths once and for all—” his gaze slid down her body “—beginning and ending with you, my beautiful wife.”
Disaster preparedness.
He’d laid the groundwork, Colin thought. He’d spent two-plus years planning for this moment, making sure he’d anticipated every likely contingency.
“Excellent,” Colin said into the phone. “Did he ask many questions?”
“No,” his deputy responded. “Once he knew you were willing to meet his price, he was pleased.”
And now, he was satisfied himself, Colin thought.
“I believe he assumed you were a Russian oligarch looking to make a prime purchase.”
“Even better,” Colin replied.
If he knew Belinda, in the past few weeks she’d been quietly working to find a way to disengage herself from their union with as little fanfare as possible. But now he held a trump card.
After ending the call, he looked up at his two friends. When his cell phone had buzzed, and he’d seen who was calling, he’d been too impatient for answers to ignore the call despite the presence of company on a Thursday evening.
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