Page 49 of Dueling with the Duke
Bridget gazed out at the sea some more as she pondered his question, a dimple in her right cheek popping. The dimple softened her features and brought out her natural glow.
“I don’t know if I truly have a rebellious nature, but it is much more fun to describe it that way. I don’t think unlike many modern women of what a woman’s place in society should be. I believe anything a man can do can be done by a woman and that women should not be considered playthings for men. They are not there to satisfy men and can be so much more.”
The Duke felt that the last part was aimed at him. “What if they want that?” he asked.
“To be a plaything?”
“You make it sound rather crass, but sure. What if a woman wants to be with a man in ways that are frowned upon, but it is her decision?” the Duke persisted.
“Then that would be fine,” Bridget replied. “If it is her choice, then it is no different than a man making that choice. I would support it if it is what she really wants.”
“How about a woman using a man as her plaything?” the Duke pushed.
“I don’t support one sex using the other in any way. If a man and a woman are in agreement about what they might like to do, then there is no problem. The problem comes when someone holds power over someone else.”
“I might have underestimated you, Lady Bridget. I will admit that I hoped to get a rise out of you by talking about such things, but you have eloquently voiced what I also believe. The more I get to know you, the more I find I am like you and you are like me. How about traditional roles in society? Is there not something to be gained from that? Is it not the natural order?”
“Is there something to be gained?” Bridget asked. “Yes, of course. Is it the natural order? No, I don’t believe so. It is only the supposed natural order because it benefits men, and they decided it would be the way it is. I would much rather go out and conduct business and then have a cognac with friends in an establishment after than stay at home and clean and cook while gossiping and eating teacakes.”
The Duke burst out laughing. When he saw Bridget turn to face him with a scowl, he quickly stopped.
“I apologize. I am not laughing because of anything you said. I only find it fantastic that you wish to be out doing such things, and from what I know about you so far, you could give any man a run for his money.”
“That is one of the best compliments I have ever received,” Bridget admitted. “I know from conversing with men previously that they often look down on my views.”
“I look up to them,” the Duke stated. “Women should get to do as they please, as long as they don’t hurt anyone. If I were ever to wed, I should not want a meek woman at home, waiting for me all day to serve me. I would much rather have her by my side than at my back.”
“That is all I ask for in life,” Bridget said.
“There will be pushback,” the Duke informed her.
“There is always pushback when there are new ideas. It is up to the strongest to speak up, and from what you have said to me tonight, I expect you will rise to the challenge, Your Grace.”
“I would love to,” the Duke replied. “I love a good challenge, and this would be the greatest one yet. You show a lot of strength by standing up for what you believe in, Lady Bridget. I respect that.”
“Do you?” she asked.
Bridget’s voice changed; it sounded like she needed his approval.
“Yes, of course,” Nicholas replied. “You show a lot of strength in everything you do, that much is obvious. It is admirable, and it is how everyone should strive to be. Success or failure does not matter as long as there is conviction and strength, and often, through both of those traits, success comes.”
“I like that,” Bridget said. She reached down and petted Mr. Peaches. It purred softly.
“What a fine night,” the Duke murmured.
“Yes,” Bridget agreed.
The cat rolled over onto its back as Bridget petted it, and she leaned closer to the Duke to rub the cat’s belly. The Duke could smell her perfume—a mix of bergamot and lavender—and the scent was intoxicating. A slight breeze picked up, carrying the lavish scent to him.
He could not help himself, and he turned to look at Bridget more closely as she petted the cat and leaned in. It was as if the moonlight appeared just for him, the clouds parting and the silver orb bathing them both in a silver glow.
It lit up Bridget’s hair, and some strands fluttered in the breeze, dancing just by him. For a moment, the wind seemed to whisper to him.
If you were to wed her, she would walk side by side with you and not behind you.
The Duke quickly shook the thought away. He had no intention of taking a wife, even if she would be a better companion than most. It was not a wife he wanted, but he did want to be closer to Bridget. He did not want anything more than a gentle kiss to end the fine night.
When Bridget looked up at him, time came to a stop. Everything halted, and he could take her in. The moon illuminated her face, accentuating her soft curves. Her deep green eyes were tinted with silver, and looking into them was like looking into her soul. There was a slight smile on her face, her rosy cheeks pushed up, and her dimples on show.
