This was not what I envisioned

…

This story started out intending to have an ex-husband, thinking he had been divorced from his wife many years before, suddenly being informed that his wife had died.

Yes, she was rich, yes it was a marriage of inconvenience, and yes, she was a bratty spiteful child to her parents not above pulling off a stunt to spite her parents, but for however a brief period they were together, there was a very definite thing between them.

Neither was supposed to forget the other, just know they were out there, and a reunion might be possible in the future.

And yes, that trope that the pair had children and he was never told about it was a trite touch, but I liked the idea.  The fact the children were following in the mothers’ footsteps, well that seemed logical, and a bugbear for the father, when he finds out.

I didn’t plan to have her murdered.

That came along when I was reading up on poisons for another story I was writing at the time, the sort that cannot be detected unless the coroner is one of those fastidious types who won’t just call it a simple death.

Yes, he was supposed to slide into her world, and once again thank the lucky stars he had missed all of it. 

He was supposed to accept the invitation to sort out the mess, and somehow dodge the larger responsibility of looking after the children and the estates that might come with an inheritance. 

After all, it was difficult living in her residence, dealing with servants, and not having to do anything because everything was provided.  He could have, perhaps, but that was not his life.  It was just one of many sticking points that broke them up.

But murder?

Now he was going to have to stick around and find out who did it, and why.

…

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