“If I had been born a man, I think I would have been drawn to an academic life,” she said.
“My daughters will do whatever they wish in life,” he proclaimed, causing her to come to a halt.
“That’s a preposterous declaration, my lord.”
“But one I believe in wholeheartedly. I never had a mother’s love. I never knew any affection from my father. Oh, I thought if I could learn a great deal that he would be impressed. Reports from my tutor and school were always outstanding yet he never mentioned them. When I tried to engage him in conversation and show him how hard I worked at my studies, he would cut me off. He didn’t care to converse with me, much less know me or anything about me.”
“I am sorry your childhood was so bleak,” she said, her tone softening.
“It made me self-reliant. I learned the value of depending upon myself. I grew in discipline and knowledge. And it allowed me to choose my own family instead of being a part of the one I was born into. My friends, first at school and then university, became my true brothers. Not Wilford, who was so much older and essentially a stranger to me.”
Spencer began leading her toward the staircase as he continued.
“Because of that, I want to be a much different kind of father than the one whose blood runs through me. I know from my friends that second sons seem to be universally ignored in favor of their older brothers, who are the heirs apparent. My sons will be equals in my mind. Oh, I know I will treat some differently from others, based upon their interests and skills. But I will love them equally.
“The same goes for my daughters. Many peers see no value in daughters. They are mere pawns on the chessboard, given in marriage for political or economic reasons. I will teach my daughters the same things I do my sons. How to read and write. How to ride and hunt. How to be brave. How to stand up for what is right.”
He paused and then said, “So if one of them wanted to pursue an academic career and become the first university don, she would most certainly have my support. I plan to love my children, Tessa. As much as my wife.”
Spencer’s words faded. And shook him to his core.
He knew instinctively that he wanted a large family and would love his children. But he had never given a thought to loving his wife.Tonmarriages weren’t built on love. It was as he had spoken. Betrothals signaled unions between families and were made for political or social gain. The idea of loving a woman—a wife—had never been a part of the equation.
Until now.
He believed he spoke so passionately about loving his children and his countess because things were changing within him.
All because of the woman before him.