Page 27 of An Innocent Bride for the Duke

“There is a man I know who would like to lead the government one day, and another who seeks to make a fortune in railroad investments. Ladies of my acquaintance are constantly vying to be the most acclaimed hostess, the greatest beauty or to make the most brilliant marriage for themselves or their relatives. London is the place for men and women of ambition.”

“Horses for courses,” remarked Aunt Beatrice equably, un-offended by the duke’s apparent views. “We must all find our own place in life.”

“Indeed, there is nothing wrong with wanting a simple life,” he replied, looking to Louisa as he spoke, as though addressing this remark directly to her.

A simple life?

Was the duke saying that he thought Louisa was simple?! Having been contrite a few moments ago, her spirits were roused once more.

“Tell me, Your Grace, are these ambitious people happy, either in their efforts themselves or their fulfillment? From what I see of London, there are a great many unhappy people making merry or keeping busy because they know nothing better. I have found happiness and am determined to keep it, even though I shall never be an acclaimed beauty, make a brilliant marriage, or become a great hostess.”

It was rather a bold declaration and Louisa supposed that the duke might well not like to be so contradicted. Why was it so hard to avoid arguing with this man?!

To her surprise, he only gazed back at her with something like wonder and then laughed warmly.

“I have never met your like in London. May you always be so happy, Lady Louisa. I hope that disappointment never finds you here at Rosemere.”

The duke’s handsome face was perfectly sincere and the wishes expressed were of the kindest sort. Louisa felt that she could sense the goodwill radiating from him and smiled in return.

"I hope, Your Grace, that you never completely allow yourself to believe that cynicism is wisdom. No matter how much confusion and wickedness we see in life, we can still choose our own path and be the person that we wish to be.”

He did not contradict her but nodded slowly, with a hint of the same sadness she had glimpsed in his expression earlier as he talked of his mother.

“You have the kind of wisdom that is often very hard won, Lady Louisa,” the duke remarked. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”

Not knowing what he meant, Louisa acknowledged his words with a graceful nod and then looked down at the table again. Conversations with the Duke of Northwick were sometimes like swimming in an unfamiliar lake where you knew there were areas of deep, and perhaps dangerous, water, but not where they might lie.

“Well then, I shall pronounce Cumbria and London to hold equal and opposite virtues and merits,” said Lady Esher cheerfully. “We need not place one above the other in absolute terms.”

“I can accept your judgement, Lady Esher,” the duke agreed, smiling, “but can Lady Louisa?”

Louisa still itched to argue for her beloved Rosemere and against the sophistication of pointless London entertainments and ritualized social interactions. This time, however, she managed to hold her tongue on the subject.

“I must allow that people can be very different, and therefore places too,” she conceded.

“I salute your difference, Lady Louisa,” the duke told her and raised his glass in her direction.

Louisa’s cheeks glowed at this strange compliment but thankfully, a large platter of chocolate mousse arrived at this moment, decorated with tempting berries. The children came rushing back to the table, begging to be lifted back into their chairs.

Talk over pudding turned to horses and plans for Fanny and Ezra to ride ponies the following day. While Louisa contributed, her gaze and her thoughts kept being drawn back to the Duke of Northwick.

It had been such a strange day, and so much of it spent in his company, for better or worse. Likely that was why he played so much on her mind. Well, the duke would not stay at Rosemere once the children were back with their parents again. He would leave, presumably returning to London, and life would go on as normal.

Louisa was dismayed to find that despite her earnest protestations of happiness at Rosemere, the thought of the duke’s departure made her feel rather flat and sad. It was all too strange…

Chapter Eleven

Alone in the drawing room long after Lady Esher had gone up to bed, Benedict leaned on the mantelpiece and toyed with his brandy glass, swirling around the same measure poured for him by the butler when they came in here after dinner.

“Hopelessly idealistic, impossibly stubborn, ridiculously vulnerable…” he murmured to himself.

Benedict was not thinking of the redoubtable mistress of Rosemere, of course, but of her niece. How lovely Lady Louisa had been at the dinner table tonight in her white silk gown with a yellow sash. It made him think again of seeing her illuminated by golden sunlight that afternoon, more like a summer goddess than a human woman.

“…distracting, oddly knowledgeable and too confident of her opinions for her own good…”

To Benedict’s disappointment, Lady Louisa had taken the children straight up to the nursery after dinner and had not returned. He had actually rather been looking forward to picking up their little debate again over a glass of brandy.

Her ideas might be naive and absurd but Lady Louisa’s wits were sharp and her spirit indomitable. Even after a long day and her fall at the seamstress, the young woman had lost nothing of her vivacity and brightness. Benedict was relieved to be sure that the accident had only been minor.