Page 45 of A Duchess Bound
There was something about Lady Dorothy which gave him pause, though. Gerard felt the strangest urge to safeguard her reputation, to let her remain the unsullied and proper spinster in everyone’s eyes.
He was usually unaccustomed to worrying about ladies’ reputations. Perhaps it was because she was already on the shelf. A beautiful, young lady could usually find a suitor. There were always ancient dukes without heirs in a desperate search for a pretty young miss to flaunt to their companions, but there were considerably fewer men in the market for spinsters.
Lady Dorothy insisted that she did not wish to wed, but she might very well change her mind. If she did, Gerard did not want to be the reason why her time on the marriage-mart proved fruitless.
“Youwouldsay that!” Pontoun lamented. “You are my friend!”
What had Gerard said? It took him a moment to recall.
He had said that Lady Agatha would not find a better man.Of course.
“I may be your friend, but that does not mean I am dishonest,” Gerard said.
“What are you on about? You are a notorious liar.”
That was true, admittedly.
“No, I’m not,” Gerard replied, grinning.
Pontoun did not look amused.
“You are a good man,” Gerard said. “I will say that once and no more. It is up to you to believe me.”
“I suppose you are right,” Pontoun said glumly. “What of you?”
“Me?”
“You have said very little today. Usually, you would have regaled me with some tale of a young miss whom you managed to ruin.”
“Given how distraught you are over your quest for a love match, I thought I would spare you,” Gerard lied. “I am certain that you do not wish to hear of my conquests.”
“I want to hear of anything that might serve as a distraction,” Pontoun said.
Gerard paused. “About the Apothecaries Act?—”
“Anything butthat,” Pontoun said. “With all due respect, I received enough of that during the last meeting of the House of Lords. You already know that I support the measure. You do not need to work to convert me to join Leedway’s side.”
“It is important to me,” Gerard said, a little defensively. “Forgive me for trying to improve the state of things.”
“You are forgiven,” Pontoun said dryly. “I am certain that Leedway appreciates your devotion to his cause.”
“He’d better. When are you going to present some legislation?” Gerard asked. “Given your aspirations in being a professor, I would think you would enjoy that aspect of being the Duke of St. Claire. Didn’t you want to teach law?”
“Teaching law and crafting legislation are two entirely different animals. But I might ask you the same question. I am unaware of you ever suggesting legislation in your entire time as the Duke of Greenway.”
“That is because I have not needed to present any,” Gerard said, shrugging. “Besides, I would prefer to spend my time in Greenway, managing the dukedom myself. That is far more useful than anything I might bring before parliament.”
“Is it?”
“I believe so,” Gerard said.
“Your father did not share that philosophy,” Pontoun mused.
Gerard clenched his jaw and beckoned for a young man offering glasses of brandy to the gentleman. He would be in sore need of spirits if his father was going to be the topic of the conversation.
“My father wrote a great deal of legislation,” Gerard conceded. “There is a reason that very little of it was ever written into law. The man had much to say, but none of it was very good.”
Gerard gratefully accepted the glass of brandy and took a fortifying swallow.
