Page 3 of Duke of Wickedness
She would find an acceptable husband and go from there. Have some children, perhaps. Dedicate herself to a charity.
She didn’t expect this to lead her to an exciting life, necessarily. It seemed unlikely that it would offer her some sort of passionate love affair, either.
But she didn’tneedthose things, for all that her siblings’ clear happiness made it clear that love in one’s marriage was a nicething to have. Plenty of people, however, had perfectly decent lives without passionate ardor complicating things.
She had love in her life, after all. She had her siblings, their spouses, her nieces, and her brand-new baby nephew.
It wasn’t romance, but itwaslove.
And it was enough.
The viscount was flushed, a little uncomfortable. He shifted on his feet.
“I know this is not a genteel topic,” he said, not quite meeting her eye. “But I am seeking a bride, and thus feel that I need to be frank.”
Ariadne didn’t let her expression betray anything.
“I approve of your propriety immensely,” he said. “You come from a good family, so I expect nothing less, of course,” he added. “The Lightholders are an old and venerable line.”
“Thank you for your kind words, my lord,” she murmured, not at all certain where this was going.
Some ladies, she knew, might be upset by the implication that a man was pursuing her for her family, but Ariadne found the frankness refreshing. It wasn’t as though she didn’t knowshe had family connections. Any man who claimed he wasn’t interested in her family—or her dowry—was likely a liar.
“I seek a courtship with a woman who is beyond reproach,” he went on. “I know I am an imperfect man, so perhaps this seems an unjust request. But I was raised to believe that a wife and mother is the moral heart of a family, one who must be removed from the…unsavory tendencies of men.”
Ariadnejustmanaged to stop herself from quirking an eyebrow. Her elder brother had spent years as an utterly unapologetic rake, so she was not entirely ignorant of the kind of things that men got up to with women who were not their wives.
She wished, moreover, that she knew less about the kinds of things that men got up to with women whoweretheir wives. If she never again walked in on someone only to have them hastily stifle their giggles, it would be too soon.
Still, she was surprised that Lord Hershire was mentioning it.Helooked surprised that he was mentioning it.
“Of course,” she said, when it was clear that he was waiting for an answer. “I strive to maintain propriety in all things.”
Indulging this conversation at all was a deviation from that goal, Ariadne supposed, but the viscount looked pleased, so she decided that she’d answered correctly.
“You are most gracious, Lady Ariadne,” he said with a relieved smile. “Thank you for accepting this man’s clumsy explanation. I apologize for being so…inelegant.”
“No apology necessary,” Ariadne said, meaning it. She actually wasn’t offended by the viscount’s discussion; instead, she was reassured by it. If the viscount was imperfect—and this conversation made that readily apparent—then Ariadne didn’t need to be perfect herself. She could merely try her best—and the viscount would never know if she stumbled.
It was reassuring. Her mask was valuable, but maintaining it was hard. It was nice to know that, even if she slipped, she would have some leeway. The viscount was a touch clumsy—harmless, but clumsy. So he would never know if she erred.
As much as she tried to feel reassured, though, there was a tiny, irrepressible voice in her mind that wondered whether a man’s desires ought not be something that his wife should…know, if not satisfy.
Before she could succumb to the temptation to say as much, however, the viscount let out a nervous chuckle.
“I apologize, nevertheless, my lady,” he said. “You are an innocent young lady; this conversation is no doubt shocking to you. I merely wish to be honest about my expectations since…since I hope we shall continue to see one another.”
“Of course,” Ariadne said politely.
“Oh, Ari, my love, there you are.”
Catherine’s cheerful voice grabbed Ariadne’s attention. She turned, Society smile still fixed in place. Catherine gave her a concerned look, just for a split second, before pasting her own respectable look on her face.
Ariadne felt a rush of affection for her sister. Catherine was the model of propriety upon which Ariadne had based her Society mask; her sister might have given up some of her proper mien since falling in love and getting married, but Catherine still knew how to perform when the situation called for it.
“Ah, Your Grace,” Lord Hershire said, ducking his head politely. “You must forgive me for monopolizing your sister. She is just such a charming conversationalist that I could not resist.”
Catherine shot a small, nearly imperceptible glance at Ariadne, who gave her sister the tiniest nod in response. The viscount was harmless. Ariadne was just fine.
