“How would you feel about it? Would you feel stifled? Would you not want your voice to be heard?”
“You can hardly compare, Mother, for then I would not have been raised with the expectations that I currently hold.”
“That is true,” she conceded. “However, you did not know Phoebe’s parents as I did. They raised her to be aware of her true potential, and now she is sharing that knowledge with other women, who are awakening to the possibilities that may be available to them. It is a powerful thing, Jeffrey, to learn the world may not necessarily be as stifling as one thought, to find a sense of freedom in knowledge. For that is what Phoebe is providing — knowledge.”
She paused for a moment, then leaned forward and rested cool hands on his cheeks as she looked into his eyes.
“All I am asking, Jeffrey, is for you to consider my words, and then consider hers.”
She stood and walked over to a corner cupboard. She opened the bottom doors, rummaged around a bit, and then, finding what she was looking for, she returned to him with a pile of newsprint in her hands and held the sheets out to him.
“Read these, Jeffrey,” she said. “Not just the headlines, but truly read the articles. Do not think about how they might affect you, but of how you would react were you a woman. What would you think? How would you respond? And not only that, imagine if every other newspaper you read was only for those of the opposite gender, and finally, there is now something you feel comfortable reading. How would you feel?”
He reluctantly took the papers from her, and she lit another candle, bringing it over to him so that he would be better able to read, as his current near-burned candle was far too dim.
She began to walk to the door, but stopped and turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. “Oh, and Jeffrey?”
“Yes, Mother?”
“I simply want you to be happy. And from what I can tell, Lady Phoebe Winters certainly makes you so. It does not matter whether or not she would make the perfect marchioness. What matters is that she would be the perfect wife for you.”
With a pointed look telling him that she expected no argument, she left as quietly as she came, leaving him alone with his newspapers, his drink, and his swirling emotions — or so he thought.
“Well, you certainly have a conundrum, do you not?”
“Ambrose!” Jeffrey shot up in his chair at his brother’s voice, which came from the depths of the library. He stood, looking between the shelves, until he found him, leaning nonchalantly against one bookshelf up against the wall. Jeffrey squinted to make him out in the dim light, glaring at him and his smug expression. “How long have you been here, eavesdropping on my private conversation, observing me for whatever sick purposes you may have?”
“Long enough,” said Ambrose, uncrossing his arms and advancing toward Jeffrey. “So, dear brother, you have a choice to make. Do you maintain your reputation as the perfect marquess, filled with honor and responsibility, or do you bend your wills for a woman, one who would be oh, so unsuitable, despite what Mother may think? And what would happen then, with Phoebe’s little publication? Would you tell your friends, the Earl of Totnes, the Duke of Clarence, and all the others, of the true identity of the publisher — your betrothed? Oh, what a scandal it would make!”
“Yes,” Jeffrey said, tight-lipped. “It certainly is, as you say, a conundrum. But,” he made the decision that instant, one he had known deep inside but had not spoken aloud. “Whatever happens, I will not tell anything of Phoebe and her role withThe Women’s Weekly. It would be too great a betrayal, and whatever should happen between the two of us, I do not want to see her persecuted or hurt by any other.”
“No? How very gallant of you,” said Ambrose. “But what if someone else were to find out?”
“To whom would you be referring?” Jeffrey asked darkly, knowing full well what Ambrose was insinuating.
“Well, Jeffrey, I see you are taking far longer to make this decision than you have with any decisionIhave ever brought to you. So I suggest that you think much harder about what I have asked you. Just a pittance, really, for your own brother. And no, I have no plans to vacate to the country, nor to take up a commission. Me, in the military? Ha, it is laughable! Yes, Jeffrey, think hard on your next actions, Iimploreyou.”
He chuckled as he walked around Jeffrey and out the door, his laughter echoing along the corridor. Jeffrey stood with fists clenched tightly as he watched his brother’s shadow depart.