Page 15 of When the Viscount Seduces
“No!” All three of Gwen’s friends snapped their heads toward her and answered practically in unison.
Min gave her an earnest stare. “We must protect our pride and our self-respect. You don’t want to be caught in an unhappy marriage.”
Ellis gave Min a sympathetic look, and not for the first time, Gwen had the sense that Min’s parents’ marriage was not a happy one. She’d never seen them together, but then she’d only come to London about six weeks earlier.
“I must concur,” Tamsin said softly. “I feared I was at first—because Isaac and I were forced to wed by circumstance. I nevertold you, but after the wedding, he said he wanted the marriage to be in name only.”
Gwen gasped. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
A faint blush washed over Tamsin’s cheeks. “I think I was just shocked. He said it was ‘for now,’ so I expected it would change—and it did, thankfully. I did speak with Persey about it. Since she was married, I thought she could offer advice as to whether I could manage that.”
“And what did she say?” Min asked.
“That I would be disappointed to not have a real marriage. And she was right. I’m sorry I didn’t tell any of you.”
“There is no need to apologize,” Min said warmly. “Persey was the right person to give you counsel. However, I could also have told you that a marriage in name only would be hugely disappointing. But I suppose that depends on what that meant. I actually think I could survive without love if the physical aspects were acceptable.”
Tamsin laughed. “You shouldn’t know about that.”
“When your brother is a known libertine, you learn things you should not.” Min’s gaze and tone were deeply sardonic.
Gwen found this conversation most interesting. “So, it’s better for me to agree to marry a man with whom I can enjoy bed sport even if we don’t love one another?”
“You must decide for yourself,” Ellis said. “Min is being a tad cynical.” She cast her friend an arch look. “However, I still believe in love—for some people. Look at Tamsin. And Persey. They are both happy and in love. And I daresay, they’re fortunate enough to enjoy the bed sport too—given the way their husbands look at them.”
Min snorted. “Like doe-eyed puppies following their master.”
“It’s quite nice, actually.” Tamsin’s gaze held an almost smug glee that made Gwen feel completely happy for her.
“All right, then, I shall be in search of a besotted gentleman whom I can love, or whom I can at least enjoy in the bedroom,” Gwen said.
“Just so,” Min said with a wide grin. “In all seriousness, you deserve that, Gwen. We all do.”
Everyone nodded. The conversation turned to the upcoming social events, which included the Oxley ball as well as the weekly Phoenix Club ball. Though themes were usually reserved for the first Fridays of the month, this week they were having a medieval festival.
By the time Gwen’s friends left, she was feeling better about her Season. But more importantly, she was looking forward to her meeting tomorrow with Somerton. Hopefully, he’d spoken with Droxford, and they would, in fact, meet tomorrow.
She was eager to do her part in their arrangement. Hurrying to her sitting room to prepare, she hoped he would be pleased with her plan.
CHAPTER 4
Droxford’s butler showed Lazarus to the library at the back of the ground floor. Several cases stuffed with books lined the walls, which were covered in a green patterned paper. There was a seating area near the hearth, an alcove for reading, and a table situated near the window that looked out to the back garden.
Lazarus could imagine himself sitting there with Miss Price as she transformed him into a magnificent reader. Then, when she next mentioned poetry or scientific works, he could claim to have read them. How he’d hated that moment with her. He’d never been more ashamed not to be better at reading.
Droxford strode into the library then. “Afternoon, Somerton. Miss Price has not yet arrived, of course.”
They’d arranged that Lazarus and Miss Price should time their arrivals at least a quarter hour apart, so they would not be seen coming—or going—at the same time. Not that anyone was going to be marking their arrival or departure.
Giving him a rare smile, Droxford came to stand before him. “I know I said this already, but it bears repeating—I’m thrilled you’ve decided to increase your participation in the Lords.”
Lazarus had told him that Miss Price had agreed to help him hone his speech about soldiers returning from war and how to best support them. Upon learning she had a special interest in the topic, which Lazarus actually had no way of knowing, he said that he’d asked for her assistance, particularly given her way with words. Or so Lazarus had told his friend. He certainly wasn’t going to admit to the truth behind their meeting, that he struggled to read.
“It’s about time,” Droxford added. “I feared you simply didn’t possess the passion to do your duty.”
Though Lazarus knew Droxford meant well, his words rankled somewhat. Droxford saw his own position, which he’d only inherited after several family members had died, as one of honor and responsibility—a great privilege.
Lazarus, on the other hand, had been raised from birth to know what was expected of him. His father had guided him to one day be the viscount. That it had happened much sooner than either of them had expected was a tragedy.
