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She drew a breath and lowered her gaze once more, refusing to meet Sutton's probing eyes.
"Fabulous!" The duchess clapped her hands in delight. "Now, Sutton, dear, arrange for the Duke and Duchess o' Tyrone tae escort us. If two dukes flank ye at the outing, perhaps the other peers will flock tae ye."
"I shall go to Hades' Hell tonight and see if I can scrounge up support from some deep gamblers and ask them to come to the theater," the duke added.
Sutton nodded. "Thank you."
"Oh, for yer father it's 'thank ye,'" the duchess huffed, "but I am the one racking my brain until I have a headache coming up with ways tae save yer reputation."
"Thank you, Mother." Sutton walked over to his mother and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Temperance couldn't help the smile on her face. She loved seeing Sutton be gentle with his mother. She adored the warmth of the whole family. They argued, to be sure, but they also teased one another, then made peace, then kissed—the way her family never did.
It also reminded her of the Sutton she'd known, the young man she'd met seven years ago. The one who had courted her with a similar gentleness. The one she had hoped she'd come to love someday.
She swallowed. She was the reason that man had changed, the reason he was guarding his tender side from her.
But she was determined to get him back.
Chapter Fifteen
Rome
10th November 1817
My dear Sutton,
I have found a master at last who will teach me to paint, rather than paint me. He is seventy, deaf in one ear, and shouts at my skies. I adore him.
Two years ago this month, we were married. I do not know why I tell you this. You were there.
An English gentleman at our hotel leaves his London papers in the reading room, a month stale. I read every column, down to the births. My aunt calls it homesickness. I suppose it is.
I wonder if I would have felt the same way if I explored Rome on my husband's arm.
P.S. The Romans fry artichokes until they open like flowers, and eat them, leaves and all. I have never been so happy with a vegetable.
Your wife,
Temperance
[Enclosed on a separate sheet: a full sketch of a stone pine against the Roman sky.]
The carriage rolled to a stop, and Temperance's stomach continued to roll a moment after.
It will be fine. It is only a theater...
...where my husband's mistress performs.
Bile rose in her throat.
She could not imagine anything worse.
"Now, remember," the duchess said, skewering her son with a sharp gaze. "This is the moment tae show the ton that ye stand by yer wife's side, that ye adore her, and have eyes only for her. Touch her, look at her, laugh at her jokes."
"Thank you, Mother," Sutton said dryly. "I know how to act the adoring husband."
The door opened and he jumped out of the carriage, followed by his father.