Page 70 of Married to the Forbidden Duke
“All you need do is say the word,” Frederick beamed. “I will arrange for him to come and examine you.”
“Perhaps. Now tell me what you have both been up to. I’ve heard that you have been riding, Alice.”
“I have.”
“AndwithFrederick. That’ll show the naysayers.” She nodded once for emphasis. “And I’m glad of it.”
Frederick led them both through to the drawing room, and Alice touched his arm again, this time in apology. He leaned over to brush a quick kiss against the crown of her head, and she knew all was forgiven.
“My reputation is still damaged,” he said. “I must do more to improve matters. As it stands, the patronesses at Almack’s are not inclined to grant either of us a voucher for next Season.”
Lady Rutland sniffed. “Who cares about them and their dour opinions? You have your wife, Frederick. There’s no need to be invited there.”
Alice chewed her lip pensively. As far as London entertainment went, Almack’s was particularly stale, but there was no denying that it was the pinnacle of respectability, and the patronesses reserved the right to refuse entry to whoever they chose. This was the final obstacle standing between them and an unencumbered future.
“He’s right,” Alice said, and both sets of eyes turned to her. “It’s not about whether we would enjoy spending our evenings there—a dull place, if you ask me—but it’s about whether they would permit us to. Frederick is a Duke, but if they believe him to be flawed beyond measure, then not even his rank will grant him leeway.”
“Very well,” Lady Rutland said, folding her good hand over her bad. “What do you suppose we do about it?”
“We must be seen together,” Alice declared. “Everywhere. Frederick must show good sense. He intends to take his place in the House of Lords to make positive change—let those intentions be known publicly. We must prove beyond all doubt that he is a different man from the one he used to be. And that I hold no ill will toward him for everything that happened between us.
“I will spread that I am content in the marriage and the position he has offered me, and that we are on good terms.”She considered, a small tugging in her gut reminding her that although she had, in many ways, contrived to move past the accident, she did not know if she had fully forgiven him.
Publicly declaring she had under those circumstances seemed foolish. Yet what else was she to do? Frederick needed her to stand by his side to repair his reputation, and ever since they had lain together—ever since before then, in truth—she had abandoned her intention to ruin him.
She could not throw away the chance of happiness all for the sake of this man’s unhappiness. Especially when seeing the flashes of pain in his eyes, now that she could identify them, made her own heart lurch unpleasantly.
Frederick looked across at her. “You would say that?”
“Yes,” she said simply. “Is that not how things are between us?”
“They are, but—” He released a ragged breath, then gave a decisive nod. “Really, it is more of the same. Aunt, have you any friends you can speak to about this?”
“Now I know the lady’s sentiments truly”—she sent Alice a sly smile—“I can do so with far more confidence.”
“Excellent. And I will make mention of her leg, too.”
“Iwill do that,” Alice nodded. “After all, it is my leg and my limp. I intend to take ownership of it, and credit you with being so diligent in finding a man who would help me.”
“When shall this begin?” Lady Rutland asked.
Alice pursed her lips as she thought back to the invitations she and Frederick had received. Not to everything—there were still doors that were closed to them both after her display and his failed wedding day. But still, she had some to choose from.
“There’s a picnic on the bank of the river next week,” she decided. “Let’s go. Is there anything more delightful than a May day spent in the sunshine? We shall be the picture of good health and happiness.”
Frederick held Alice’s gaze as he took her hand and pressed her fingers to his mouth in gratitude that went far deeper than mere words ever could.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The morning of the picnic dawned bright and cheery, and Frederick tried to ignore the ongoing squirming of anxiety in his gut. Alice had been quiet and distant that morning, as she had often been for the past week. When she came back to him, she did so with bright smiles and loving hands, but her quietness disturbed him. By retreating into her head, she entered a place he could not follow, and he wished he knew what she was thinking.
Did she regret saying she would so publicly back him? They had made wonderful progress over the past few weeks, but that didn’t mean the past no longer existed, or that either of them no longer grieved for things that could never be.
“Alice,” he said as she powdered her face a little before the mirror. “Are you feeling all right?”
“All right?” Her eyes met his in the mirror. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
“You can talk to me. If you’re having second thoughts about this outing, we don’t have to go.”
