Chapter 6
I announced the marriage publicly.
Not because spectacle repaired anything.
Because continuing secrecy would be another choice.
Dulcie stood beside me only because she wanted to.
Important.
She wore no maid uniform.
Simple dark dress.
Mother’s ring.
No diamonds.
No makeover designed to make old families comfortable.
One reporter—
No.
We were not dealing with press.
Family.
Associates.
Charity trustees.
People who had attended events for years and thought they knew my household.
I said:
“Dulcie Aldercrest is my wife.”
That was all.
No apology on her behalf.
No explanation of her background.
No justification.
Someone asked how long.
“Four years.”
The room changed.
Good.
Let them calculate every dinner where they ignored her.
Every time she poured water while sitting spiritually above half the room.
One older uncle asked:
“Why hide it?”
I answered:
“Fear.”
He expected strategy.
I gave him truth.
“Mine first. Then habit.”
Dulcie looked at me.
That mattered.
I did not blame Father.
Sophronia.
Tradition.
Enemies.
Those explained.
I chose each delay.
Then one elderly aunt whispered:
“Your mother would be relieved.”
Dulcie answered before I could.
“I wish she had been relieved while she was alive.”
Silence.
May you like
Good.
My wife did not exist to make Aldercrest feel redeemed.
