Page 35 of The Odyssean Duke

Her brow furrowed, and he gestured to the great bronze statue further down the aisle. The Dowager Countess of Thornwall walked to it, her eyes curious. It was Odysseus with his bow, preparing to shoot an arrow through the axes and reclaim his rightful place.

“When you return from war, nothing is the same anymore.” Stephan paused. “No, I suppose that is not quite true. Everything is the same, and the difference is entirely within you.”

She cast him an unreadable look. “I see.”

Stephan cleared his throat; he could too easily imagine the lady turning her next question into something he would rather not think about. “What about you?” he asked. “Do you believe that your late husband’s house is your home?”

She shook her head. “No. I have some fond memories of the place, but that is because I often host the CCC meetings there.”

“CCC?”

“Corset Chronicles Club.”

Right. She meant her bluestockings. “Do you believe a child will make it feel like a home?” he asked.

“I know it will.”

Stephan snorted and shook his head. “You have such a foolish view on things.”

His eyes wandered to Odysseus again. Had the statue been cast alone, or did it have a companion somewhere? A steadfast Penelope undoing her weaving or perhaps looking longingly for her husband?

“Foolish?” she asked. “You cannot know that a child willnotbe what I have longed for my entire life.”

“I can,” he said. “You seem to believe that it is so simple to find a home, just a matter of adding one more person, and you will have it. The truth is more complicated.”

“For you,” she shot back. “Clearly. But I do not see how you can know what will or will not make a home for me, Your Grace. Are you God, privy to all the thoughts in my heart and mind?”

Stephan shook his head. “You are a stubborn and single-minded woman.”

“I might say that you are a stubborn and single-minded man,” the lady insisted. “I suspect that you cannot even define homefor yourself, yet you seem determined to argue with my efforts at definition.”

“I know what ahomeis.”

“Do you? If you did, I imagine you would know that every true soldier goes to war to protect home. Maybe you are more like Odysseus than you think.”

Stephan shook his head. Her idea of soldiers was a gallant and romantic notion, likely fed to her by aristocratic men whose greatest accomplishment was ordering about eager and desperate young men. She had not seen the sailors who were young and inexperienced, foolish and eager to win glory for themselves without any idea of how treacherous the sea was. The Dowager Countess had never seen a man die before, cursing his poor luck and the entire country.

He could not bring himself to tell her otherwise. Even if she understood that war was not everything she had always been told, Stephan knew that she could not truly understand it because she had neverseenit—and for that matter, wouldneversee it.

“We will have to agree to disagree,” Stephan said, stepping past Odysseus.

“That is for the best,” she agreed. “If we quarrel for any longer, I am certain to emerge victorious, and you will feel the worse for it.”

He smiled. She would not sway his opinion, but the Dowager Countess of Thornwall would certainly fight him to the bitter end if he wished to continue their argument. Of that, he had no doubt.

“Oh!” The lady stopped abruptly and put a hand to her collarbone, as if scandalized. “Thatis certainly not Odysseus.”

The statue was of a woman lounging on a bed, her entire body naked and arched as a man loomed over her. It was clear that the pair were about to engage in a passionate embrace, to put it delicately.

“Eros and Psyche,” he said.

“Yes, I believe you are right.”

Stephan glanced about them and noticed that no one else was nearby. Feeling emboldened, he stepped closer to the Dowager Countess of Thornwall. She tensed but did not insist that he move further away. “Psyche was a beautiful woman, so much so that men were leaving their worship of Aphrodite for her?—”

“I know the story,” she interrupted. “Aphrodite commands Eros to make Psyche fall in love with the most hideous creature imaginable, but he falls in love with her instead.”

Stephan shook his head. “You make it all sound terribly unromantic when you recount the story like that.”