Page 18 of Duke of Wickedness
“I understand your reticence,” she said delicately, “but don’t you think a courtship should include such things—so that two people might know if they are compatible with one another?”
“Lady Ariadne, you really must desist,” the viscount returned, looking agitated. “I shall not be responsible for your ruination! I positively refuse; I could not bear it.”
Ariadne glanced over at Helen, who, in the grand tradition of chaperones, was half asleep over her embroidery. Poor little lamb.
“I don’t think a conversation would be my ruination,” she said gently. “For one, I don’t think we would be overheard. For another, my sister is hardly likely to run to the gossip rags even if she did.”
The viscount, however, was already shaking his head.
“It’s not about the scandal,” he said, sounding disappointed that she would even suspect such a thing. “It is about yourmoral character. I told you: a wife is the heart of the home. Her mind must remain pure and unsullied so that she may pass that gentility to her children.”
Ariadne must have been staring at him, wide-eyed, because he kept explaining.
“So it is not about what thetonconsiders to be ruination or not. It is about the natural roles of men and women. I will not render you unsuitable to be a wife by filling your mind with sordidness. That is a burden for men, with our unruly natures and physical needs. But you are a member of the gentler sex. You must maintain your purity.”
He said all this with the air of a man who was sharing crucial information that he was frankly surprised she did not already possess. His tone was faintly pitying, like she had been failed by someone.
In fairness, Ariadne’s motherhadbeen a reasonably absent figure in her childhood, but while the Dowager Duchess of Godwin could be blamed for many things, Ariadne refused to lay this particular blame at her mother’s door.
No, this was entirely the fault of Lord Hershire—and whateverman(she had no doubt it was a man) had given him such appalling, limiting ideas about women.
“I see.” It was all she could manage. And, in all honesty, it was not very convincing, either—she was certain that her disgust was apparent in her tone.
But the viscount offered her a relieved smile anyway.
“I knew you would understand,” he said, sounding as though this was the highest praise he knew how to give.
Ariadne, who didn’t understand in the least, showed him her teeth. She couldn’t properly call the expression a smile.
“Of course,” she said. “I should like to…ruminate on your words.”
As she had expected, this pleased the man. She could practically see what he was picturing—her, on her knees in a chapel, hands clasped beneath her chin as she thanked the good Lord above for sending her such a wise, benevolent man as Lord Hershire in order to show her the error of her wicked ways.
“Your consideration does me honor, my lady,” he said. “I have said it before, but you must permit me to say it again; you are the most noble and pleasant of young ladies. I shall call upon you again in due course. Perhaps, in the interim, you will read some edifying moral texts, and you can share with me what you have uncovered.”
His eyes gleamed with a kind of fervor, and Ariadne realized that he didn’t just want her so-calledmoral puritybecause he thought it was important for her and any potential offspring she might produce. He sought her goodness to redeemhimas well.
All without giving up his vices, I gather, she thought sourly.
“Perhaps,” she said, letting her tone make it sound like an agreement.
There was a bit more of the usual pleasantries after that—all thethank you for your time, andI look forward to seeing you again soon, andwhat wonderful hospitalitybits—and, throughout it all, Ariadne felt as though her polite mask was threatening to fracture under the pressure of it all.
By the time the viscount finally left, she was extraordinarily tempted to press her face into the nearest pillow and scream until her throat was raw from it.
As she decided that this would be a bit dramatic, even for the privacy of her own home, she settled for flopping back on the settee and pretending she didn’t have any bones.
People without bones couldn’t be asked to maintainmoral purity, could they? They were too busy with the boneless situation.
Ariadne was occupied, enjoying this fantasy of lying here forever, when Helen’s face appeared above her, peering down at Ariadne’s prone form.
“How are you doing there, darling?” she asked.
“Oh,” Ariadne said lightly. “I’m grand.”
“You seem grand,” Helen agreed.
“Glad to hear it,” Ariadne said.
