Page 38 of Married to the Forbidden Duke
“Not angry?”
“Why should I be angry my wife can hold her own in a room of stuffy lords and politicians?"
She tilted her head. “Most elegant and dutiful ladies do not campaign for women’s suffrage.”
“Then I am blessed in my choice of wife.” He eased her down onto the sofa, and she did her best not to notice the way he effortlessly made way for her, accounting for her needs as easilyas breathing. He sat beside her, looking her over curiously. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
“I—” The denial was on her tongue, and she should have uttered it. The last thing she needed was for Frederick to believe he had somehow done her a favor by allowing her to preside over the meal. But… it had been satisfying to talk back, and she liked the way that Frederick had given way to her, allowing her the freedom to speak. “Yes,” she admitted finally.
“Excellent, because there shall be plenty more opportunities for you to host dinners in the future.” He rose. “I should attend to the guests at the billiards room—”
“I would like to smoke a cigar.” The words were out before she could stop them. “And drink port.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Why, so you may disgrace me in public?”
“Itwouldbe disgraceful for a Duchess to smoke a cigar in public,” she conceded, doing her best not to smile. “And port is not a lady’s drink. I know that, too. But I’m curious.”
“Perhaps when we are alone. Your political aspirations I can condone, but not the smoking of a cigar.” He took her hand, twisting it as he brought it to his lips, and kissing her inner wrist. The very slightest scrape of stubble alighted her nerves, but he merely dropped her hand and strode to the door.
“I will encourage them through before long,” he said when he reached the doorway. “If it pleases you, and you happen to have some more arguments in favor of political reform at the ready—you may deploy them at any time it suits you.”
“Frederick…” she said as he left. He half turned, one hand braced against the doorway, then glanced at her through the corner of his eyes.
“That is the first time you have ever used my name.” His voice scraped like gravel across her skin, and she almost shuddered.
“Thank you.”
He executed a formal bow, but the heat of his gaze was still on her, eyes glittering with an emotion she couldn’t name, but felt very much the way his lips against her skin had. “You are most welcome, wife of mine.”
This time, when he left the room, she let him.
And when she did her best to remind herself of all the ways she hated him, the image that kept coming to mind was the way he had saluted her with his glass, eyes heavy and dark on hers.
“What’s this I hear about you being an activist, darling?” asked the dowager countess as she entered the room, skirts swinging. “London is practically buzzing with the news.”
Frederick barely glanced up from the paper he was reading. Shafted light fell through the library windows, and for once, Alice was somewhere among the shelves, searching for a book. Ever since her conversation with Helena, he’d noticed the way she had returned to the library again and again, although he didn’t know what she was searching for. Once he did know, he would send for it.
“Aunt,” he said lazily, turning the page. “Someone could sneeze in Oxford Street and you would know about it within the hour.”
“I had it direct from Lord Billingsgate that you were supporting votes for women.”
“If you are asking whether it is a bill I intend to enter to the House of Lords, then the answer is no.” He turned the page. “I am interested in reforming our current political system, especially as pertains to votes.”
Over to one side, he saw Alice’s back stiffen as she listened in to the conversation. They’d spoken little since the dinner. Every time he made progress with her, she took a step back, and he knew better than to fight it now. Besides, he had his own business to be getting along with, and more rumors to quell.
His aunt sat herself down on the chair opposite him and lowered her voice. “Was he also correct in saying that you have been influenced by your wife in that way?”
“I imagine many men are influenced by their wives—”
“Frederick!”
He chuckled lowly. “In a manner, yes. She ventured her opinion, and I thought it was soundly made. I voiced my support. You are behaving as though I had attempted insurgence against our king.”
“No, of course not. And you know, I am always in support of women given a greater voice in our society—heaven knows we have suffered enough with men at our helm. I merely wanted to confirm that you spoke in support of her.”
“Of course I did,” he said impatiently. “And I thought she expressed herself well. Not every lady can brave what she did and with such poise. If I did not know she had not been raised as a lady, I would have thought she had entered Oxford and debated with the rest of us.”
His aunt sat back. “Good. That is what I had hoped to hear. There is a chance for you yet.”
