Page 68 of Tamed By her Duke

“We do also have the House of Commons,” Oackley, Grace’s brother, added dryly. “You can hardly blame the commons, so to speak, to therefore agitate for ‘one man, one vote.’”

Caleb decided thatmaybehe didn’t hate the brother. Grace clearly adored him, after all; she’d embraced him with joy when they’d reunited earlier in the day.

And Caleb didn’t have any true reason for despising the man…except that when he’d greeted Grace, he’d said “welcome home.”

As if Grace’s home was London. And not Montgomery Estate. With him.

It was the disrespect that bothered him, he told himself. Oackley might be Grace’s brother, but Caleb was her husband. Her home was with him—and the other man would do well to remember it.

Caleb was generous enough to admit that he admired the way the marquess didn’t back down in the face of his father’s blustering, however.

The Duke of Graham looked at his son coldly.

“Radicals,” he said, spitting the word like an oath, “are a scourge on order. Or perhaps you’d like to see heads rolling in the streets, like in France? I’d have thought you preferred your wife’s neck intact, but perhaps I was mistaken.”

Caleb, who had fought the French on too many blood-soaked battlefields to have any love lost for their continental neighbors, felt this went a bit far.

Evan felt it wentextremelyfar. He surged to his feet. “Now, see here?—”

But his father was already extending a hand of apology, a conciliatory smile that held a hint of smugness on his face.

“I apologize; I apologize. I see how that comment went too far. I am merely a passionate defender of my nation’s sanctity, you see. I lost my temper.”

Caleb was fairly certain that the duke had planned this attack with precision—with the aim of getting his son to losehistemper, which the duke seemed to treat as some sort of victory. From the way Evan’s eyes narrowed, he felt the same.

But, British civility being what it was, he could do little in the face of an apology. He sank slowly back into his seat.

“Mind that you do not lose your temper as pertains to my wife,” he said coldly. “Or else you shall find that mere apology does not suffice.”

Lady Oackley’s cheeks blazed as her husband sat—though whether this was because she disliked being the center of attention or because she, too, was furious, Caleb could not tell.

“Naturally,” the duke said smoothly. “Shall we talk of more pleasant things?”

“Oh yes, let’s,” the duchess said, acting as though she had merely been waiting for her husband to give her something to agree with and was now simply delighted to have fulfilled her duty. “How has business been, dear?”

The duke looked down at his wife the way one might look at a sweet, if somewhat irritating child.

“It is not really the matter of ladies, of course,” said the duke, an air of weary tolerance coloring his voice. His wife went crimson to her hair, and Caleb didn’t think he imagined the flicker of satisfaction on the man’s expression before he spoke again. “But we have seen so little of Evan of late—” His eyes darted ever so briefly to Frances who also blushed. “—that perhaps we ought to acquaint him with the workings of the dukedom in the scant time he can spare us in his busy schedule.”

Caleb had known men like this, men who got twisted satisfaction out of embarrassing others. There had been plenty of officers in the army, particularly those who felt a bought commission made them better than enlisted men, who behaved like this.

But, more than anything else, the duke reminded Caleb of his own father.

The man was a bully, one who was taking advantage of rules of civility that others didn’t dare transgress. Caleb wanted to object, but he knew how it would go; suddenlyCalebwould be the one in the wrong, accused of the crime of disrupting the so-called genial atmosphere of this family dinner.

And because Caleb was not a man who wished to bring shame upon those who did not deserve it—because he did not want to hurt Grace—he was not prepared to make that move, take that risk.

The duke knew it, so he made his little insinuations with impunity, trusting his power and his position—and his cleverness with words, yes—to protect him from criticism.

He was good, Caleb admitted. Caleb’s father had been clumsier at this game than the Duke of Graham.

But that didn’t mean it wasn’t the same game.

Evan knew it, too, from the way his shoulders looked so stiff that they might shatter. Yes, Caleb’s brother-by-marriage wasall right, he decided. He would probably forgive him for calling London Grace’s home.

Eventually.

“Let’s not discuss business,” the Marquess of Oackley said through gritted teeth. “We’re here to enjoy Grace’s return—and to welcome Montgomery into the family.”

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