Page 53 of The Odyssean Duke

“You could have persuaded her to take a different course of action,” replied Murrayton. “I know you can be persuasive when you try.”

Stephan sighed wearily and drank another generous swallow of the brandy. “What can I say?” he asked. “The lady expressed hesitation about our consummation, and I did not wish to argue with her.”

If Stephan was to say anything complimentary towards his grandmother, which he rarely had the inclination to do in recent years, it was that her life had taught him how difficult it was to be a woman. He had more flaws than he cared to contemplate, but he would never be a man who made a woman uncomfortable. Stephan would be patient and wait for Evelina.

She knew the stakes as well as he did, and she had every reason to want their arrangement to work. Evelina would delay no longer than she needed to; he was quite certain of that.

“Well…” Murrayton trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

Stephan knew his friend well enough to guess why. While there were many rakes in the ton, neither he nor Murrayton had ever been one. It was seldom that they discussed matters of the heart or congresses with women.

“I know you worry,” Stephan said. “You are my friend, and your consideration means everything to me. I promise that all is well.”

Murrayton sighed. “Would you tell me if it was not?”

“No,” Stephan admitted. “But it will be—Evelina is a good choice for a wife. We have an understanding, and I am certain she will soon be ready. Besides, we have more than enough time. What is a lost day here or there?”

Murrayton furrowed his brow. “If you say so.”

The conversation had clearly run its course, so Stephan decided it was time to speak of something else. “How isyourwife?” he asked.

That was a safe direction in which to turn the conversation. There was nothing else in the world that Murrayton liked more than discussing his wife. “She is quite well,” he said, “entirely occupied with the Season, as you might imagine.”

Stephan nodded, as though he understood. In truth, he knew little of how women prepared for the Season. His mother had died too young for him to remember if she had cared for balls and soirees, and his grandmother had cared only about appearance. It was difficult to find any enjoyment in society if one felt as if he was always being watched.

“I doubt I would enjoy such,” Stephan said. “It sounds exhausting.”

“Better her than me,” Murrayton said, his lips twitching in amusement. “Do you know that gossip of your marriage has already reached most of the ton? Amelia heard some ladies discussing it this morning in Regent’s Square.”

Stephan shrugged and finished his brandy. “You would think that everyone would have more pressing matters to tend to.”

Murrayton barked in laughter. “More pressing than your marriage to the ton’s most scandalous widow? Hardly.”

Stephan pressed his lips together, thinking. “She did not seem especially scandalous to me.”

In truth, he had not looked much at Evelina’s reputation; he had seen a woman who might be coaxed into a mutually beneficial arrangement, and that was all he had needed. Given her plan had been to bear a child outside of matrimony, Stephan did not doubt that the woman was scandalous, though.

“Her women’s club is not the usual gathering of bluestockings,” said Murrayton. “I have heard that they speak of matters which are less suitable for young ladies.”

Stephan waved a dismissive hand. “Evelina can discuss whatever she likes in her club and with whoever she likes. That is hardly my business.”

Despite his professed ambivalence, Stephan was forced to concede that the thought of having such a scandalous wife was a little thrilling. Evelina was the most charming contradiction, a puzzle of maidenly modesty and brazenness. Once she managed to overcome her hesitation in the bedroom, what would she be like?

Stephan imagined her eager and wanting. He thought of her eyes darkened with lust and of her sinfully plump lips. Stephan looked at his brandy and found that the glass was empty. He let out a soft, shuddering sigh. It seemed terribly ironic that he hadjustexplained to Murrayton his rationale for giving Evelina the time she desired before their consummation, and yet his loins stirred at even the slightest thought of her wanting him.

“You are right,” Stephan said at last. “Well, not entirely. But enough. I should join my wife this evening and see if she will have me.”

“Best of luck, my friend.” Murrayton raised his glass in a small, playful toast. “To you and your charming duchess.”

“To us,” Stephan said. His glass was empty, but he still clinked it against Murrayton’s own. “And to the prosperity of the Dukedom of Rothbury.”

Stephan stood, placing the glass on the nearest table. He and Murrayton said their farewells, and Stephan left. No carriage waited him; he still had not grown accustomed to being sostill, to being ferried about instead of walking. A restlessness burned inside him, and he quickened his footsteps.

He ached for the sea and his command, for the certainty of days gone by. At least, a beautiful woman waited for him at the townhouse, and if he was lucky, she might be amenable to having his company that evening.

CHAPTER 23

The night air was cold, and Evelina wished that she had thought to bring her shawl with her. Evelina’s encounter with the Dowager Duchess of Rothbury had left her feeling shattered and anxious. Although the air was too cool to be comfortable, it served to steady her. She had survived the encounter with Stephan’s grandmother.