“That it is unseemly?” she finished. “No man should feel intimidated by a woman—heavens forbid. No, we must maintain the illusion that women can do nothing without a man by their side.”
Why did she challenge him at every turn? The most vexing part was that, in principle, he agreed with her. He didn’t think women should be confined to embroidery and watercolors. In fact, he had enjoyed Edinburgh’s public houses, where many of the young women had opinions—and weren’t afraid to share them. Of course, most of them made their living entertaining gentlemen, so they had to converse intelligently.
But he could not tell Evelyn that. The less they knew about each other, the better. He didn’t want her to grow too comfortable. He needed the opposite.
“Well,” he said, “I hope your meeting with Sir Franklin goes better. Just focus on topics that are not… vexing.”
“And what topic, might I ask, is not vexing?”
“He’s interested in hiking and theology. Perhaps discuss a sermon you’ve heard? Topics of that nature.”
“I see,” she said. “Well, if I am to meet him tomorrow, I must decide what to wear. If you’ll excuse me.” She rose and left. Only after she was gone did he realize he’d been digging his nails into the leather of the chair.
What a vexing woman…
Later that afternoon, as he wandered the upper floors, preoccupied with estate matters, he entered the library. He found Evelyn sitting at the desk, hunched over—a most unladylike posture—with piles of newspapers stacked beside her. She held a quill, occasionally jotting something down before switching papers.
Was she studying? It was most peculiar.
And then the thought returned. He had to make her uncomfortable. She had to want to marry, to leave his home. Watching her so focused only reinforced the idea.
He stepped into the hall and spotted the butler.
“Bennett.”
“Your Grace?”
“Fetch four or five footmen. Have them begin packing up books from the library.”
“Packing up books?” the butler repeated.
“Yes. Take them to the hall. Leave them near the Duchess’s chambers.”
“But Her Grace is in the library.”
“Is she?” Nathaniel said innocently. “Well, I’m sure whatever she’s doing can be done elsewhere. This is urgent.”
“But… which books, sir?”
“It matters little. Empty the shelves. Move the books and the shelves into the hall.” He paused, then smiled. “And there is no need to be quiet about it. In fact, the louder the better.”
The butler’s jaw dropped, but he nodded and disappeared. A few minutes later, footmen arrived and entered the library. Soon, the clanking and thudding of books being removed echoed through the hall. Trunks arrived, and books were dropped in.
Nathaniel stood outside, arms and legs crossed.
Soon, Evelyn’s voice rang out: “I am reading here!”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Bennett said, “but His Grace said this was urgent.”
“But why?”
“I do not know.”
Moments later, she appeared, arms full of newspapers. As she walked toward him, he noted that some were scandal sheets. Gossip, then. Looking for her name, most likely. Typical. Self-centered women were always the same.
Though… that wasn’t a kind thought. She had been genuine when she spoke of her suffering. Still, her confidence and her manner made it difficult to see her as a victim.
“Is this necessary, Nathaniel?” she asked.
