Page 81 of My Deal with the Wrong Duke

“They were contented,” he repeated, as though the distinction were irrelevant. “That is the more durable condition. Good evening, my dear.”

She closed the door behind him and leaned against it. The schedule sat on the parlor table where she had left it, folded in thirds, full of answers to questions he had never thought to ask her.

She only saw him again four days later. Frederick collected her in his curricle for a drive through Hyde Park. The weather was warm for June, the park busy, and Frederick handled his greys well, guiding them past a slower barouche near the Serpentine bridge.

Louisa was silent, simply gazing at everything around her. There was no point, she thought, in attempting to speak.

They passed Mrs. Ansell’s landau near the bridge. Mrs. Ansell leaned forward and waved, her face alight. Louisa waved back and held the smile until the carriages drew apart.

“Mrs. Ansell is a gossip,” Frederick said pleasantly. “But a useful one. Her husband controls two borough seats.”

Louisa glanced at him. “Is that why you smiled at her?”

“I smiled because she waved. The borough seats are simply a happy coincidence.” He flicked the reins, and the greys quickened past a slow-moving phaeton.

Near the water, a group of children played on the grass under a nursemaid whose patience had clearly been spent hours ago. Two boys chased each other in widening circles while a girl sat apart on the bank, absorbed in a picture book. She held the book close to her face, squinting at the illustrations. Louisa watched the girl until the curricle carried them past.

“I should like to have a son or two,” he announced as though it were something she could control.

“If there is a daughter, I suppose it would be acceptable. But a son, to be my heir, would be your most important duty.”

She looked up at this, not bothering to hide the frown forming between her brows.

“Duty?”

“Well, of course,” he answered her question. “It is the duty of any wife to bear children. And you do want children. You’d make a capable mother.”

She swallowed, then shook her head. “I would like a daughter,” she said softly, and her gaze drifted to the girl again.

Frederick did not notice. “I have been thinking about the autumn. I should like us to retire to Langley Park directly after the wedding. London is tiresome in September, and I want the household settled before Christmas.”

“I had assumed we might stay in town through October. Eleanor is here until November, and my mother has her annual charity auction in Kensington.”

He scoffed. “Your mother’s auction will proceed without you. She has managed it perfectly well for years.” He steered the horses around a knot of riders near the gate. “And you will see Miss Whitmore again at Christmas, or whenever she cares to visit. I shall not forbid your friendships, Louisa. I simply believe that a new wife’s place is in her husband’s home, establishing herself. Society expects it.”

“I suppose you expect it too. But… What if I would like to stay closer to my mother?”

He laughed shortly.

“You will think differently once we are married,” he said. “The country changes one’s perspective. There is a rhythm to the year at Langley Park, and once you settle into it, you will wonder why you ever preferred London.”

She looked at him, then away. “And if I do not think differently?”

“My mother felt precisely as you do. She was a London girl. Loved the theatre, the galleries, the bustle. Within a year at Langley Park she never mentioned them again.”

“Perhaps she stopped mentioning them because nobody listened.”

The words left her mouth before she could arrange them into a safer shape. Frederick glanced at her, and for a brief moment his expression shifted into genuine confusion.

“I hardly think that is fair,” he said then. “My father was a devoted husband.”

“I did not mean to offend. I only meant that stopping speaking about a thing is not the same as ceasing to want it.”

Frederick adjusted his grip on the reins. “You are tired. The Season has been long, and wedding preparations are exhausting. I understand entirely.” He reached across and patted her hand gently.

“I have arranged for my solicitor to draw up the marriage settlement next week,” Frederick said when she did not respond. “There is no need for you to attend. These are dull affairs, and I see no reason to burden you with legal language.”

“I should like to attend.”