Page 40 of The Odyssean Duke

Evelina nodded. Theodora had already said as much, and Evelina did not disagree exactly. It was only that she did not have the same needs that her friends did. A happy marriage required love and mutual understanding, but the act of consummating a marriage did not.

Admittedly, it would be more pleasant if His Grace behaved as he had in that tiny study in the British Museum, but that was a nice, unexpected treat. It was not a necessity. Evelina clasped her hands tightly together, her heart beating very quickly as she dared imagine the wedding night. Would he show her that same pleasure again? She still did not quite understand how it related to what was needed to produce a child, but Evelina was uncertain that she could survive such pleasure every single day until she successfully had a baby.

“He is a fine duke,” Maria offered. “Very well-respected and handsome.”

“I imagine that compensates a little for his grandmother,” Anna said, furrowing her brow. “I have tried to learn more about this feud between them, but I fear that my efforts have been for naught.”

“That is fine,” Evelina said. “I have learned the truth of the matter, and it is but a little thing. There is a stipulation in the will that His Grace must produce an heir within a year of taking the title, or else his grandmother will take everything save for the title of the Duke of Rothbury.”

Theodora frowned. “A year? But when did he take the title?”

Evelina winced. “Two months ago.”

Theodora gasped. “But that would mean he only has ten months!”

“What a dreadful stipulation!” Anna exclaimed. “My dear, are you—if he does not fulfill this obligation?—”

“He will,” Evelina said. “Wewill. The two of us have an understanding that we will both need to work very hard to produce an heir.”

The three women exchanged concerned looks, and Evelina could guess why. If His Grace did not have an heir before the two months concluded, what would become of him? A man in such a difficult position would marry any lady with a fortune in the hopes of preserving himself should the worst happen.

“He will have no access to my fortune,” Evelina said confidently. “I will keep my wealth separate from his. It is an unconventional arrangement, but it is one to which he has agreed.”

“If you are certain…” Anna trailed off.

“Quite certain,” said Evelina. “I have thought of everything, and my solicitors have been generous both with their time and their insight. I promise that everything will be fine.”

“I do not doubt you,” Maria said, her face softening. “None of us do. Our caution comes from a deep love of you, not a doubt in your competence.”

“I know,” Evelina said. “And I would be upset if you did not show such care for me. But I promise that all will be well.”

An awkward silence settled between them, and Evelina rose and poured glasses of brandy for them. Anna waved hers away and smiled wryly. “Since becoming with child, I have found that even the smell of brandy turns my stomach.”

“More for me,” Theodora teased, raising her glass in a toast. “To you, Evelina, and your Odyssean duke.”

Evelina chuckled and let her glass clink against the one that Theodora held. “He is no Odysseus.”

“You disagreed at the British Museum,” Theodora pointed out. “Then, youdidbelieve that he was like Odysseus.”

“Yes,” Evelina said. “But that was before you resolved to call him that!”

“You will simply have to accept it,” Maria said, grinning. “It is too late for you to dissuade us now, Evelina.”

She shook her head and took a sip of her drink. Evelina supposed that there were worse comparisons to make about one’s husband than Odysseus.

“I think you will be good for him,” Anna added.

Evelina frowned. “Do you?”

Anna nodded. “The Duke of Rothbury has struck me as a lonely man, and given all that we have heard about his life, I imagine that he could do with some brightness. You are perfect for that. You are warm, cheerful, and kind.”

Evelina blinked, uncomfortable and fond all at once. Anna spoke about her as though Evelina was a paragon of perfection, as if any man would be foolish to discard her, but that was entirely untrue. Evelina’s husband was proof of how guiltlessly one might abandon her, and if Evelina was honest with herself, she would admitthatwas the true reason why she hesitated to become too familiar with her new husband.

Her friends’ marriages were different from what her own would be, and it was not because their dukes were different. It was because Evelina was different. She was not a likable woman. Evelina was too much of everything—too much fire, too much wit, too much impatience. She was outlandish and ridiculous sometimes, brazen in a way that men disliked. If she did develop some genuine fondness for His Grace, it would only spell herdoom; he was certain never to return her affections, and she would be melancholy once again.

“To your long and happy marriage,” Theodora said. “Even if that is not your aim, I have no doubt that you will find love with your new happiness. You deserve nothing less, Evelina.”

“Yes,” Maria agreed. “We all know that the course of true love does not run smooth, especially for a man who takes his name after Odysseus.”