Page 89 of The Truth About Love and Dukes

“Very well,” she capitulated with a sigh, “but you shall make it clear to her that she’s to turn a blind eye if I pull you shamelessly behind a hedge for some passionate kissing.”

He groaned. “Not only my nerves shall be tested, I see, but also my masculine fortitude. Very well. I will endure what I must. And during our engagement, the whole family will help you learn everything you need to know about what duchesses do, so you’ll know just what you’re in for. Mama, too, when she returns from her honeymoon, will help you prepare a bit before the wedding. That is, if the rest of us haven’t scared you off by then.”

“You won’t,” she promised. “I’m not easily frightened.”

“Thank God, because if you don’t marry me six months from now, I fear I shall have to jump off a cliff.”

“There’ll be no cliff, Henry, I promise you. If you can promise me one thing.”

He nodded as if he knew what she meant. “Keep the paper. I shan’t care.”

“Even about the gossip?”

He grimaced. “I shan’t like it, I confess, and it will be rough on the family, but—”

“Don’t worry, Henry,” she said, laughing, taking mercy on him. “Before you even walked through that door today, I had already decided to eliminate gossip from the paper’s content.”

“You did?” He looked so relieved that she laughed again. “What prompted that decision?” he asked.

She sobered. “Believe it or not, I don’t like gossip. Other people do, of course, which is why I chose to include it, for when I started the paper, I desperately needed it to be a success. But now that the paper is doing so well, I can afford to eliminate it. We’ll still have fashion news, what the ladies are wearing at Cowes Week, who’s going to which house party, that sort of thing. We might even add interviews with members of the aristocracy—a day in the life of a duchess, for example. But no more gossip.”

“This wouldn’t—” He broke off and tenderly kissed the tip of her nose. “This wouldn’t be out of consideration for my family, would it?”

“You know it is,” she whispered. “I couldn’t bear to see anything scandalous about your family in my paper.”

“Thank you, darling.” He kissed her, a long, deep kiss this time.

“But,” she added, when she was allowed to breathe again, “since I shall soon be a duchess, I’ll have to bring in a partner to run the paper for me.”

“Hang discretion. If what I said to you that night in the library is the only reason you’re bringing in a partner, don’t. Run it yourself if you want. I don’t ever want you to feel as if you have to play the hypocrite.”

“It isn’t that. I shall be very busy, I expect, being a duchess. Which brings me to my request.” She took a deep breath. “I hope you are not expecting me to give up working for the vote, Henry? Because I won’t,” she said before he could answer her. “I can’t do that, not even for you. So if I am arrested for protesting and marching in the street, I’m afraid you shall have to get your wife out of jail.”

“Don’t be absurd, darling. Duchesses are like dukes. Our sort don’t get arrested. It’s not done. But,” he added, sliding his arms around her waist, “I’m not sure marching will be necessary. As a duchess, you will have far more effective ways to change the world at your disposal. Gaining the ear of the Prime Minister over dinner, for example. Or endorsing candidates for the Commons who share your views.”

Such exciting possibilities made her catch her breath, but she knew it wasn’t only her influence that would be needed. “That will only make a difference if you’re with me, and if you will support me. Will you?”

“Always,” he said quietly. “I will always be there to help and support you. Even about the vote, though I’ve no idea what it will be like to live in a world where women vote. It’ll change everything, I expect. As for your paper, I can’t help being curious. Who are you thinking to make your partner? Clara?”

“She wouldn’t want it. No, I think I shall write to Jonathan, and see if he might like to come home and run things. He’ll be keen, I suspect. We might even start another paper or two, or a dozen. Revive the family business on a grand scale. If the estate would back these ventures long enough for us to make a profit? I won’t ask it, if—”

“Of course we shall back you.” He kissed her. “I believe in family and family loyalty very strongly, you know.”

“I should like to keep Lady Truelove, too.”

“I think you must. Especially since you have to print my letter.”

“I’m not going to print it, Henry. It is for my eyes, and mine alone. But I will keep it until its paper is yellow and crumbling and the ink is faded. I will keep it,” she added tenderly, “until the day I die. And I will read it every single day.”

“And any time I start to become autocratic and tyrannical, you can pull it out, read my own words back to me, and put me in my place.”

She smiled, lifting her hand to curl a lock of his hair in her fingers. “Well, yes, that, too.”

“As to printing it, nor not, that’s your decision, darling. As long as you know I’m sincere, that’s all that counts. And I agree that you must keep Lady Truelove alive. She’s what brought us together. We can’t let her go now. Speaking of which . . .” He paused, his arms tightening around her. “She never did give me the benefit of her advice.”

“As if you need it! You’ve done pretty well on your own, I think. All Lady Truelove would tell you, anyway, is to follow your heart, and love me. Love me, Henry, and marry me, and teach me how to be the best duchess I can so that together we can take care of both our families and make the world a better place.”

“Now that,” he murmured, bending his head to kiss her mouth, “is the best advice I’ve ever heard.”

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