Mary Burton - The Unexpected Wife

“No, I suppose not.” As much as he liked her feminine scent, he was burning daylight. There was a lot of work to do before the sunset today. “Pleasure meeting you. Thank you for your help with the boys.”

“They’re good children.”

“Yes.”

She looked as if she wanted to say something else. Another time he would have indulged in the conversation. He liked the sound of her voice. But he turned away from her now. He had more important matters on his mind.

“Mrs. Clements, can I talk to you outside?”

Mrs. Clements glanced at Society Miss. “Here’s fine, Matthias.”

He didn’t like airing his business in front of strangers. “I need to talk to you about the boys.”

Mrs. Clements didn’t look interested in stepping outside. “Go ahead.”

“With Frank gone and all, I’m in a bind. I was hoping they could board with you for the summer.”

He heard Miss Smyth’s sharp intake of breath. No doubt, Miss Smyth thought him hardhearted for sending his children away. He couldn’t blame her.

Mrs. Clements’s smile faded to embarrassment. “Before we talk about that, there is another more pressing matter you and I need to discuss.”

“Is there a problem with those renegades again?” he said. So much anger and frustration bunched his muscles now he wouldn’t have minded a fight to work off the heat inside him.

“Oh, no, nothing like that. There’s a matter you and I need to discuss.”

Discuss. Hilda Clements could talk a man’s ears off if given half the chance. He decided to head her off. But before he could answer, Miss Smyth spoke.

“I thought caring for the boys was going to be my job.”

He swung his gaze to meet hers. He was certain that he’d heard wrong. “Ma’am?”

She held his gaze, though he sensed she was nervous. Still she pulled back her shoulders. “I mean, since I am going to be your wife, it only seems right that the children stay with us.”

For a moment, his head swam as if a prizefighter had landed a knockout punch. “My what?”

Mrs. Clements stepped forward, wearing a broad grin that hinted at trouble. “Miss Smyth is the bit of news I was referring to.”

Matthias’s head started to throb. The last thing he needed was a riddle. “What the devil are you talking about, Mrs. Clements?”

The older woman smoothed her hands over her white apron and cleared her throat. “We ordered you a wife. Miss Smyth is your fiancée.”

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