by Sue London
She took his hand and led him away from the servants busy with his packing, into her room of blue skies and sunshine. He found that it didn’t remind him so much of his mother anymore, but of his beautiful wife and new memories. They joined with a sweetness and intensity that made it feel like the first or last time. Gideon kissed her belly and dozed half on top of her while she ran her fingers through his hair, content in his knowledge that this was far from the last time he would make love to his wife.
Jack doubted the wisdom of the seating arrangement her husband insisted upon. The duke sat at the head of the table of course, as he was the highest ranking person, and her husband sat the foot. She sat to her husband's right and Justin sat to the right of the duke. She wasn't entirely sure of the protocols, but was fairly certain that seating an unrecognized bastard next to a duke broke all of them. Due to the length of the table this meant that either end was encouraged to talk privately, as conversation for the full table required one to raise one's voice. Justin looked appropriately overwhelmed to be paired with a duke as his dinner companion and Jack wanted to be able to save him from the fear and embarrassment. But the affable duke soon had the young man enthralled in conversation and Jack was able to turn her attention to her meal.
"There's no need to fear for him," Gideon said for her ears only. "Quince is no Lord Lucifer."
Jack raised her brows at him. "It beggars the imagination to know why you're bringing up Lord Lucifer."
"Why wouldn't I? It's a common reference between us now. Although to me it is a teasing nickname from friends and to you it symbolizes a man with the power to lead others to perdition."
"And you doubt such a power?"
"You can't lead anyone somewhere they didn't already want to go."
"That's a convenient lie to tell yourself."
Gideon's brows lowered with irritation but any retort was cut off by the duke raising his voice to be heard across the table. "I find your assessment to be correct, Lord Harrington. Now that you have him trained perhaps I will steal your clerk from you."
Justin blushed to the tips of his ears with the compliment.
"Don't be ridiculous, your grace. Harrington men are known for their loyalty."
"But his grasp of the issues is startling. Especially for one so young. Perhaps you will share him with me?"
"What one man could work in both of our offices and not find himself conflicted?"
Jack looked at Gideon questioningly and he said, "Quince holds the opposite view from me on everything of consequence."
"Untrue," the duke said, swirling his glass of wine, "I knew from the start that Lady Harrington would be the perfect wife for you and I can see that you now know it to be true."
"We'll consider that the exception that proves the rule."
Jack blushed at that but asked, "What are the most notable items you conflict on?"
"Import taxes," Gideon said.
"Aid for the poor," Quince countered, raising his glass in a mock salute to the earl.
"Agriculture policy," Gideon responded, returning the salute.
"Domestic taxes."
"Foreign relations," Gideon said with a raised brow.
"Business regulation," Quince reminded in a chiding tone.
"Crime."
"And let's not forget women's rights.”
"Will you never let that go?"
"Doesn't seem likely. Why don't we ask your lovely wife her opinion on the subject?"
Both men turned their attention on her, Gideon looking irritated and the duke inquisitive. Jack realized that this was the first item she was going to have to navigate as a politician's wife. Honestly she was a bit annoyed with Quince. He had been the one to say that politics and friendship were two different things, yet here he was thrusting her into the center of a political debate. It wouldn't do for her to counter her husband's political position, but since she didn't know what it was, that was difficult. In an attempt to remain neutral she shrugged and said, "I would of course enjoy participating in the political process."
With a sly smile the duke said, "Oh but you won't if your husband has anything to say about it."
Gideon, running low on charity for his guest, pointed his fork at the duke. "You would do best focusing on the universal vote for men."
Jack was unsettled by the duke's comment but asked, "What is the universal vote for men?"
The duke answered, "It is simply that currently in order to vote a person must meet certain criteria such as owning property, which ensures that we continue to have a government for the rich and by the rich. For instance, your young friend Mr. Miller here, who demonstrates a comprehensive understanding for current issues, can have no more influence on how the country is run than a newborn babe in arms."
The earl countered, "Yet you would let thousands of uneducated men access to the vote in order to allow Mr. Miller the privilege? What would our country be like if the majority of voters were uneducated and easily manipulated?"
"Most men are easily manipulated," Quince answered. "Except for you, of course, Giddy. A more stalwart man has not been put on earth by God."
Jack began to wonder if the two men would pull swords from the walls of the gallery and have at each other. However, one thing still bothered her. "I don't remember anything making the papers over the past few years about the House of Lords debating a vote for women’s rights. When did this happen?"
The duke was swirling his wine again. "Of course it never made the papers because it was never publicly debated. Your husband made sure of that."
"What do you mean?" Jack looked back and forth between the two men. Gideon was thunderous and the duke icy.
"You see, my dear," the duke explained, "before a bill is written it is wise to chat with other Lords and men in the Commons to see what appetite there is for the nature of the bill. Of course my good friend, the Earl of Harrington, was one of the first people that I talked to about it. Not expecting that he would immediately begin a counter-campaign to ensure the bill never found sponsorship."
Gideon was stabbing the vegetables on his plate with more force than necessary. “It was a ridiculous item for you to bring forward as your first policy issue."
Quince raised a brow. "Ridiculous? You can fend off progress for now, Giddy. You may have even put it back a hundred years. But progress cannot be held back forever."
"And then who will you fight for to get rights? Dogs?"
Jack felt herself go cold. "Pardon me, did you just compare me to a dog?"
"I think you rated slightly higher than a dog," Justin suggested, his first contribution to the conversation and one designed to break the tension.
Still stabbing at the contents of his plate, Gideon said, "The typical woman rates lower than the typical dog in my estimation."
Jack pushed her chair back with a sudden scrape and rose, "If you'll excuse me I think I've developed a headache."
The gentlemen stood with her and bowed to her as she left the room. She needed to collect herself and think. Who... no that was the wrong term. What exactly had she married?
Chapter Twenty-Seven
As soon as Jack had left the room Gideon turned his ire on Quince. "That was why you wanted to see my lovely wife? To upset her and push your own political agenda?"
"My dear boy, I don't think that I was the one to upset her."
"Bringing up that issue in her presence was unconscionable."
The duke turned to Mr. Miller. "You're her friend. Are women’s rights something that Lady Harrington cares about?"
"She has never mentioned it before," Justin hedged.
The duke smiled. "Good man, Miller. You will have a future in politics yet. But based on Lady Harrington's intelligence, education, and independence of mind do you imagine she might?"
"I respectfully decline to speculate, your grace."
This caused the duke to laugh and Gideon said, "If this is how you're going to be all night, Quince, then I'll take my own carriage."
> "Fine, I shall be on better behavior then."
"Mr. Miller, I plan for you to take Brier with you to London to be your mount. You may decide whether you would prefer to ride her tonight or ride in the carriage with us."
The young man looked back and forth between the duke and earl, finally saying, "I'll ride the horse, sir."
"An option I might take myself," Gideon said, downing the last of his wine. "You are dismissed to prepare, Mr. Miller. We leave within an hour."
After Justin left, Gideon turned to the duke. "I shall go take my leave of my wife. And find out how much your little revenge is going to cost me."
"I'm afraid to tell you Giddy, but she doesn't seem the type to be bought off with baubles."
"As you may find out when you marry, Quince, there are many forms of payment. Cash is amongst the easiest to make."
"Married less than a month and already you sound an old man. No doubt a circumstance I should endeavor to avoid."
Gideon dashed up the steps to face what was likely to be an unpleasant conversation with his wife. And he had thought Quince was extending an olive branch? Ah well, perhaps his days in London would allow this particular spat with Jacqueline to blow over. It would be a good deal longer before he would forgive the duke.
Jack was sitting at her vanity brushing her hair, and recognized Gideon's step entering her rooms.
"I don't want to talk to you," she said before he had a chance to speak.
"No tearful goodbyes and pledges that you will miss me while I'm gone?"
She glanced over her shoulder. "If you want that you should buy a dog."
Gideon chuckled. "Touché. I'm sorry I lost my temper at Quince and you got caught in the crossfire."
"Is that how you would describe it?" She felt herself becoming even more disappointed that he didn't consider his opinions or statements wrong in any way.
"This is an old argument between us, and he obviously hopes to win you to his way of thinking in order to either change my mind or at least make me uncomfortable."
"Is this the issue he mentioned from four years ago?"
"Yes, I suppose it was. It was his first year in the Lords after his father had passed. The former Duke of Beloin had been a staunch conservative. Even I was surprised by what a rebellious little progressive Quince turned out to be."
"He has such a reputation for being a snob. His politics surprise me."
"You see, my love, Quince is only snobbish among the ton. He happens to despise his own kind."
"And you're hoping that I despise my own kind and don't support rights for women?"
"That's not true. I hope that you don't undermine your husband's political ambitions by expressing opposing opinions."
"Doesn't that amount to the same thing?"
"I don't think so."
Jack clenched her fists in her lap and shook her head. How would she survive years of marriage to her Luddite husband as he dragged her from social event to social event expecting her not to counter his opinions. If she had known, if she had really understood, she never would have married him. She needed to talk to Justin before he left.
Gideon came up behind her to rest his hands on her shoulders and she twisted away from him, rising to put the chair between them. Finally seeing her expression he realized that there might be a good deal more trouble here than he’d assumed. Her eyes didn't have the wild fury that he remembered from the morning of the society article that necessitated their marriage. This time he saw resolve, rage, and more than a little disappointment. Perhaps he should just go throttle Quince now.
"No kiss goodbye, then?" he asked, still trying to maintain a mild manner to smooth the waters.
"Just get out," she snapped.
He nodded and backed away from her. Perhaps an extra day or two in London would be advisable.
As he settled into the carriage later that hour, he said to Quince, "Earlier this afternoon I was a happily married man. Now I'm not. You can expect a comeuppance for that."
"Come now, Giddy. By your own statement her opinion matters less than the dog's."
Gideon stared moodily out the window to the darkening landscape. "I don't have a dog. And don't call me Giddy. Only Jacqueline can call me that."
Quince raised his brows at that last, quietly added statement.
Gideon accomplished a great deal of work while in London. Debate for the Corn Laws raged for nearly a week, with passionate arguments both for and against. The House also took up the Treaty with America and discussed the Congress of Vienna. Meanwhile, with Mr. Miller's help he was able to catch up on his paperwork and correspondence. The young man was a godsend.
He ordered some wardrobe essentials for his wife, stopping short of sending her fabric and seamstresses since she would probably consider that more of an inconvenience than a treat. Then he tracked down the cabinetmaker with the best reputation in London and ordered a crew to be sent to Kellington to create whatever the countess might request. As the following week wound down he realized he couldn't put off going home any longer. It was a shock to know he had been purposefully avoiding Kellington, which made the third time his wife had put him in this position. He never delayed things, ever. His philosophy was to always deal with things straight on and that there was no time like the present to get things done. He would be damned if his prickly, opinionated wife was going to make him change how he did things.
In the spirit of not delaying, he went to the Walters house and bullied Mr. Walters into taking funds for Tyche and set off for Kent that very morning. No time like the present, he told himself. If she was still upset then they would argue about it until it was resolved.
Jack was in turns relieved that her husband hadn't returned, and annoyed that he not only hadn't returned, but also hadn't sent a letter telling her when he would. Things arrived almost daily from London. Clothing, craftsmen who measured her suite and discussed where to install shelves and cabinets, and miscellaneous household items that she supposed were from the earl but they didn't include any explanatory notes. She remanded the clothes to Lara, gave the foreman exact specifications for her room, and left Mrs. Goodstone in charge of the miscellaneous items. She also hadn't heard from Justin yet and hoped that a letter from him would arrive before Gideon did. Of course the list of bills he sponsored, and his voting record, wouldn't give her any insight into things that he killed at inception, like the duke's proposal for women's rights. She was loath to ask the duke for insight as he had his own political axe to grind. She didn't feel like she could even talk to her husband until she understood what she would be expected to support in this marriage. By arriving to an event on his arm and simply remaining silent, she would be assumed to be in support of all his decisions and policies. It rankled. She had never been much for politics but she certainly had her own opinions and feelings! Was she to forever suppress them since to do otherwise could compromise his career? She hadn't expected marriage to make her less of a person but perhaps she should have. A married woman owned no property. It all belonged to her husband. She herself belonged to her husband.
To make matters worse she had been feeling poorly for the past few days. She had barely eaten and when she did, it seemed to all come back up. She knew that being upset made her lose her appetite, but this sickness combined with what could only be grieving for the marriage she thought she had was making her sleepless and grouchy. When she realized she had snapped at a chamber maid for no good reason, she took herself to her rooms to at least try to recover from whatever ague had laid her low.
Gideon strode into the front hall of Kellington and handed Dibbs his coat, gloves, and hat. "How fares the household, Dibbs?"
"Well enough considering my lady is ill."
"My wife is ill? Where is she?"
"My understanding is that she's been in her rooms for the last two days, my lord."
"Thank you, Dibbs. I shall go there directly."
"My lord," Dibbs said, gently halting Gideon on the first stair step. "Do know
that she hasn't... been herself of late."
Gideon jogged up the steps. Well, then. Either Jack hadn't gotten over Quince's visit or she was quite ill. He knocked on the door to her suite and pushed it open. She was in the sitting room, curled up on the settee under a throw, and reading. She looked like death. Her hair was pulled back, there were circles under her eyes, and if he wasn't mistaken, she had lost weight. The look she gave him was somewhere between rage and misery. "So. You've returned."
Although irritated by her continued obstinance, he was alarmed that her health had changed so significantly in his absence. She needed to be in bed. She needed to be eating. She needed… he didn’t know what. But he would figure it out and ensure that she received it.
"You should be in bed." He bent over to pick her up and she held up a hand to fend him off.
"I'm fine where I am."
"You should be in bed," he repeated, scooping her into his arms despite her struggles. Holding her, he could confirm that she had lost weight. Enough for it to worry him. "Are you not eating at all?"
Her struggles became more pronounced until she finally wriggled free and landed on the bedroom rug on her hands and knees. He dropped down beside her to check her for scrapes but she scrambled away from him. "Stop it. Leave me alone."
"Jack, you're not being reasonable."
"No, I'm not being reasonable. Just go away and leave me alone." She had pressed herself against the wall, pulling her knees up to and curling herself over so that her face was hidden.
"I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong."
This brought her gaze back up to his. "How can you even ask me that?"
"I am asking you that. Is this still about that foolishness that Quince brought up?"
"Foolishness? You think it's foolishness?"
"Yes," he said, rising to prowl her room. "I think it’s foolishness. I don't see why you're still worried about it."
She pushed herself up the wall. "You arrogant ass."