Page 18 of Notorious

“But that is what you were raised to expect, was it not?” She stopped, bit her lip, and then blurted. “Are you sure you can be satisfied with only one wife?”

He leaned toward her with eyes that had suddenly become heavy lidded. “That question is one only you can answer, is it not? Will you be able to keep me satisfied, Miss Clare?”

She gaped, and he took advantage of her tongue-tied state to pursue another tack.

“Enough about me and all the wives I will have to forgo if we marry. What about you, Miss Clare? Is all this resistance about me? Or is it about what you will have to give up?”

“Me?” Her voice was several octaves higher than normal.

“Yes, you. Is there perhaps somebody you might have to forgo?”

“Somebody?”

He tsk-tsked. “A lover, a sweetheart: some man you were hoping or planning to marry?”

“Of course not.”

“Why of course not?”

“I am not a proponent of the married state.”

His forehead wrinkled and he shook his head, his expression weary. “You have lost me, Miss Clare. Utterly and completely.”

* * *

Gabriel’s head was beginning to hurt.

“I am a follower of Mary Wollstonecraft’s.”

Gabriel had heard the name, of course. One could hardly avoid hearing it in Miss Clare’s presence—generally at least one time an hour, not that he had ever paid attention to the actual substance of her lectures. He had some vague notion of the Wollstonecraft woman—some radical female who had taken lovers, had children outside wedlock, and tried to kill herself when abandoned.

“I see,” he said, not seeing at all, but hoping that would be enough to head off any tedious conversations about the rights of women.

Miss Clare’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t see anything. You don’t even know what I’m talking about.”

Gabriel sighed and lifted his hands in surrender. “Guilty as charged.”

“You’ve not listened to a word I’ve said to you over the past four years, have you, Mr. Marlington?”

“That is not true. I’ve heard you speak many times on Mrs. Woll—” He frowned. “Wollkenstonen—”

“Wollstonecraft, Mr. Marlington. Mary Wollstonecraft. I’ve no doubt you’ve heard me speak of her, but it’s apparent you’ve never listened to the actual words.”

Gabriel did not argue, hoping that might end the conversation. Besides, it was true—he hadn’t paid her railing any mind.

But it appeared Miss Clare did not need his participation to carry on an argument.

“She was a woman who claimed that women have an existence beyond that of their relationship to men. A woman who advocated that women are human beings with a right to education rather than merely an appendage of some man. A woman—”

Gabriel held up a hand. “I beg your pardon, I was not aware I was arguing that women are not human beings.” He frowned. “As for education—”

“It does not signify at this moment, Mr. Marlington. Forgive me for clouding the current issue.”

He hated to admit it, but his head was spinning a little.

“Returning to what you’ve just said: I am aware of the way things are; I know a woman needs the protection of a man’s name in situations such as this.” Her lips twisted into a bitter smile. “I understand that we must marry, no matter how repellent the concept.”

Gabriel gaped in stupefaction. “Are you trying to be insulting, Miss Clare?”