Page 84 of Lyon of Least Resistance

“Our guests,” he said. “This house party is to honor you as my bride.”

She nodded, and James resumed his attention on his plate.

“Do you only see Dahlia when you look at me?” she said. “Is that why you can only love me in private?”

His conscience stabbed at his heart. “I-I do love you,” he said, “but…”

“Ah, yes, the obligatory ‘but.’” She exhaled sharply. “Forgive me, James. Like all women who secure a husband through the machinations of Mrs. Dove-Lyon, I’m poorly acquainted with the customs of your class.”

“Such as the custom that viscounts aren’t supposed to love their wives? Sweet heaven, Cordelia, do you not understand—”

Footsteps approached, and Georgiana appeared, Margaret at her side.

“Where’s Charles?” Georgiana asked.

“He’s in the kitchen, Georgie,” James said. “You’ll have to pour your own tea.”

“I hope that won’t become a habit.” Georgiana glanced at Cordelia. “We wouldn’t want our traditions to be replaced by more modern practices.”

Cordelia looked up. “Modern as in not expecting others to wait on us all the time?”

“We employ Charles to—”

“That’s enough, Georgiana,” James said, fixing his gaze on his wife. “Perhaps it’s time we reconsidered the customs we’ve grown up with.”

“Customs that have been in place for generations?”

“We must adapt,” he said. “If a custom restricts our freedom, or gives rise to unhappiness and discomfort, then it’s time to abandon it.”

He fixed his gaze on Cordelia and the expression in her eyes softened.

“Such as?” Georgiana said.

Cordelia spoke up. “Such as the custom of accusing a woman of witchcraft if she earned the disfavor of her peers,” she said. “Did you know that a woman accused of witchcraft endured trial by drowning? If she drowned, she was declared innocent, but if she didn’t, she was declared a witch and burned at the stake.”

Georgiana tilted her head to one side. “So she died either way.”

“Yes. It is the lot of our sex to be condemned merely through someone expressing suspicion or disdain, irrespective of what we have or have not done, whether or not we were forced.”

Georgiana hesitated, her color heightening. Her eyes narrowed, and her hand shook as she reached for her knife.

“I…” she began, then shook her head.

“And it wasn’t that many years ago,” James said, “that if a man wished to rid himself of his wife, he could accuse her of adultery and have her executed.”

“What’s adultery?” Margaret said, settling into her seat.

“Nothing you should concern yourself with, Margaret,” Cordelia said. “Perhaps we should discuss something else. Georgiana, do try the kippers. They’re delicious.”

“I know they are,” Georgiana said. “I want toast, but Charles is not here.”

“Well, I like kippers,” Margaret said. “I’ll have two—yours and mine.”

Cordelia rose and approached the buffet, then returned with a full plate, which she set in front of the little girl.

“Thank you!” Margaret said, and Cordelia placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled.

James let out a sigh. If only she’d smile at him like that.