“Damned if I know. We can’t stay married, that’s for certain. Thankfully, I doubt she’ll want to, now she knows who I really am. The woman wanted someone who was about to be transported or hanged. She should be more than willing to rectify the mistake.”

“It’s not that easy, getting rid of a wife, you know,” Seb said. “They’re like those prickly burs that stick to your clothes. Once they get their hooks into you, they’re the very devil to shake off. Ask anyone.”

Ben scowled at him. “You have plenty of experience with clinging wives, do you?”

“Hardly. I avoid them like the plague. Why bother with another man’s wife when there are so many enthusiastic widows and single women out there?”

“I’m sure there are ways to get rid of a wife,” Alex said. “Annulment. Divorce.”

“Paying a highwayman to dispatch her,” Seb joked. “Tying weights to her feet and dumping her into the Thames. Shipping her off—”

Alex ignored him. “I doubt she’ll want her name dragged through the mud by a divorce, though. The Caversteeds might not be old money, but their standing in society is good.”

“You could always leave the country,” Seb said cheerfully, clearly relishing his role as devil’s advocate. “Go on a nice extended tour of Europe. A few nights with those delightfully inventive ladies in Paris and you’ll forget you even have a wife.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Ben scowled. “We only just got back from Europe, remember? I’ve seen more than enough of France and Spain to last me a lifetime.” He turned to Alex, determined to steer the conversation away from the vexing Miss Caversteed. “How’s your investigation going?”

Alex had been asked by Conant to look into the suspicious death of an Italian diplomat.

“Slowly,” Alex sighed. “It looks like he was killed by his own servant, who then fled the country, but the motive is still unclear.” He glanced over at Seb. “Maybe the servant finally snapped after the count ruined his eighth cravat trying to create the perfect waterfall?”

Ben snorted. Seb’s pride in his sartorial style was a running joke between them. “You know what those volatile Italians are like. Always so passionate, so hot headed.”

Alex shot Seb a taunting smile, and Benedict tried unsuccessfully to suppress a grin at the way Seb simply raised his eyebrows and refused to rise to the bait. Seb was half-Italian and Alex delighted in teasing him about the “foreign” half of his nature—mainly because Seb was the complete opposite of a quick-tempered Italian. Despite his Mediterranean good looks, he had the coolest head of anyone Ben had ever met. There was nobody better to have at your side in a crisis. Even if he did spend twenty minutes perfecting his cufflinks.

He sent Alex a sympathetic glance. “You’ll make a breakthrough soon, I’m sure.”