He waved away her comment, his grey eyebrows drawn together in consternation. ‘I am sure that they are nice enough girls in their own way. But you misunderstand me. It is not so much the ladies themselves that I disapprove of, it is the manner in which Bennett is seeking a wife. Holding these women up against a set of criteria laid down by my brother is not the way to make such an important decision. Now every girl is trying too hard to behave in the manner they all think he expects, it has become virtually impossible to distinguish between them. They have camouflaged and suppressed all of the character traits that might have made them interesting in the first place. It is no surprise to me that he is struggling to choose one. I am not altogether convinced he is particularly enamoured of any of them, despite his insistence that he wants the sort of wife that his father would have chosen for him. But Bennett is not really like his father at all, if you want my opinion, although he might think that he is. I grew up with my brother and I have been there for every step of Bennett’s life and, in personality, they are quite different. My nephew has inherited his father’s talent as a politician but there is more to him than that. With my brother, his political ambitions superseded everything else. Bennett does not have that selfish single-mindedness. He cares about people too much. That is why he campaigns for causes that his father would never have touched. My brother never would have championed reform and risked upsetting the House. But Bennett does so if he intrinsically believes that it is the right thing to do. Therefore, it stands to reason that the sort of woman he should marry would be very different to the sort my brother conditioned him to believe that he should.’
Without thinking, Amelia’s eyes flicked back to the man in question and she was surprised to find him staring right back at her. Then a slow smile turned up the corners of his perfect mouth just a little and she found herself drowning in that heady blue gaze, smiling back at him like a doe-eyed fool while her heartbeat quickened and her lips tingled of their own accord.
Irritated at her own silly reaction, Amelia resolutely refocused all of her attention on his uncle again. ‘At least we have been spared another reading fromThe Discerning Gentleman’s Guidetonight. That should give you some comfort.’
‘Now you have jinxed it.’ Sir George groaned and then rolled his eyes. ‘Lady Eugenie is still to read and she issovery eager to please.’
‘Am I interrupting?’
Chapter Sixteen
It stands to reason that your wife will understand that your first mistress is your duty...
Amelia’s insides did a funny flip-flop at the familiar deep voice and she braced herself inwardly to be dazzled by the Duke’s smile before she turned and faced him.
‘Not at all, dear boy,’ Sir George replied cheerfully. ‘In fact, I insist you take my chair while I go and find something better to drink than this dreadful sherry your mother insists on serving.’ The traitor had made no complaint before this moment, which led Amelia to believe that he was leaving her alone with his nephew on purpose. As his uncle stood up, the Duke quickly sat in the seat that he had vacated. Amelia tried, and failed, to ignore the wonderful aroma of bay rum and golden duke that emanated from his well-fitting coat.
‘Have I missed anything interesting?’ He was leaning ever so slightly towards her so that he could speak quietly. This had two, very unwelcome, effects. Firstly, it made Amelia intensely aware of her own skin. Every inch of it seemed to have come alive at the sultry sound of this man’s melted butter voice. Whilst her nerve endings danced in anticipation of something they had no place to be anticipating, almost all eyes in the room were suddenly turned in her direction. Wondering why the Duke had singled her out for particular attention, the Potentials, as one, all shot daggers at her.
‘Not yet. So far, none of your admirers have entertained us with a reading from your book.’
Amelia was quite pleased that her voice sounded normal because enormous butterflies had arrived in her stomach and were flapping around ferociously as a result of his close proximity and the unexpected intimacy of their whispered conversation.
‘Thank Heaven for small mercies. Try to hide your disappointment at that, Miss Mansfield, or my feelings might be hurt. I know you disapprove of my book.’
When he was like this, affable, playful and unassuming, it was easy to forget he was a duke. ‘It’s not so much that I disapprove of it—although I do, of course, because it is drivel—just the more I learn about your character, the less likely it seems that you would have written it in the first place.’
‘Is it not stodgy enough?’
Without thinking, she nudged him playfully and that earned more evil glares from his admirers, which she decided to ignore. ‘Oh, it is stodgy to the point that it has atrophied—which I suppose is the problem. Underneath all of that stodginess, there appears to be a reasonable, enlightened man struggling to get out.’
He grinned triumphantly at her compliment. ‘Reasonableandenlightened. That sounds positively gushing. Are you feeling unwell, Miss Mansfield? All of this unexpected flattery might go to my head.’
‘Why did you write that book?’ Because it really did not sound like him.
The Duke sighed and then looked sheepish. ‘In my defence, it was never meant to be widely published. I simply jotted down all of the advice my father had given me. I wanted to honour his memory with something solid to pass on to the next generation.’ They were not really his words; that was something. ‘I never got to see him in action in the House, but he took a great deal of time to educate me about the legacy that I have inherited and the importance of doing things properly. It was only appropriate that I share that.’
‘But you must agree with your father’s advice or you would never have taken the time to write it down.’
‘Being a politician is a vocation and a great responsibility. Therefore, to do the job justice, you have to live by example. The difference between a good politician and a great one lies in their trustworthiness. How can the public have respect for their leaders if the leaders do not hold themselves up to a higher standard and, by default, their wives as well?’
Amelia could not help wondering if those words too had first come from his father’s mouth. ‘I should like to believe that most people have the good sense to judge our leaders by their deeds rather than their choice of wife. And who decided that your father’s high standards were the right ones to judge a great politician by, aside from himself?’
The Duke went to reply and then stopped himself. His sandy brows drew together in thought and he wore an expression of confusion as if he was contemplating a concept that was completely new but, whatever his answer was going to be, Amelia was denied hearing it.
‘Lady Eugenie, have you brought something to read to us?’ The Dowager brought the gathering back to order and smiled at the last Potential benevolently. Amelia could already seeThe Discerning Gentleman’s Guideclutched in the girl’s hand like an amulet.
‘I should like to hear Miss Mansfield read us something,’ Lady Cecily interrupted pointedly while her eyes shimmered with spite in Amelia’s direction. ‘This is the second time she has attended the reading salon and we are yet to hearanythingchosen by her.’
Amelia smiled sweetly back at the girl, trying not to be intimidated. Stupidly, she had not brought anything even vaguely suitable to read because she had not thought that anyone would call on her to do so. Companions were usually ignored, so it was easy to blend into the background in situations like this. But now she had inadvertently incurred the wrath of the Potentials, who were all staring maliciously at her in the hope that she would disgrace herself, so she had become fair game. To make her discomfort worse, the political pamphlet she had brought to pass the time was a little too large to slot in between the pages of her book of poetry, so Amelia had chosen a substantial tome from the Aveley library, purely on the basis that it was large enough to hide the pamphlet. She glanced down at the book on her lap at exactly the same moment as the Duke.The Cultivation of Potatoes and Other Root Vegetablesglared mournfully back.
‘Do you have an interest in horticulture?’ She could tell by his hushed tone that he was vastly amused.
‘Not particularly.’ Everyone in the room was watching her expectantly. Lady Cecily was smiling from ear to ear. It was blatantly obvious that the girl had also seen the potato book and was hoping to humiliate Amelia with it. It was inconceivable that she would read about root vegetables. Her pride would simply not allow that to happen, even if the alternative meant offending her hosts and all of their guests.
‘I have been studying the writings of Edward Poole.’ Boldly, Amelia slipped the controversial pamphlet from its hiding place between the pages. ‘I should be honoured to read you a small passage.’
The group stiffened at the mention of Poole; they would all be aware of him as a staunch Radical and supporter of the American Revolution. Undeterred, Amelia stood and began to read.
