Beth was shocked. “Can you support that?”
He smiled. “I prepared a quotation in anticipation of this discussion.‘As a sex,’ the earnest lady wrote, ‘women are habitually indolent.’ ”
“But she meant because of their poor education and their enforcedsubservience.”
“Perhaps, but she didn’t qualify it in the context, and I gained theimpression she regarded most of the human race, of both sexes, as childrento be taught better by herself. Her comments on the aristocracy areequally biased.”
“Well, you would think that,” Beth retorted, enjoying this meeting ofminds very much.
“True enough. But you can hardly expect me to be in favor of doing awaywith the aristocracy altogether.”
“I must confess,” said Beth, “that having become better acquainted withthe species I find there are many who are responsible and industrious andcertainly fulfilling their potential. Do you not agree, however, thatexpecting women to slavishly obey men, even when they are obviously wrong,is ridiculous? Look at poor Clarissa’s situation.”
She thought he might make a flippant reply, but he answered herseriously. “Yes, I do think it ridiculous. But I don’t think I’ve everexpected that. My mother doesn’t strike me as slavish and my sisters nevercowered before me. In fact, they could pin me to the ground until I wasthirteen, and frequently did. I suppose they slavishly obeyed the duke butthen so, by God, did I.”
“Yet you threatened to beat me. Twice.” She didn’t mention it, but theblow which marked her face hovered between them.
They walked a little way in silence before he responded. “I suppose Iconsider force appropriate on occasions, but I have no excuse orjustification for what happened tonight.” Thoughtfully he added, “Itworries me considerably.” After a moment he continued, “As for my threats,I threatened to beat you ? though I don’t know whether I could do such athing ? when you seemed about to bring scandal into the family. If ithelps, I’d threaten to beat a man in the same situation and be more likelyto do it. Does that make you more equal, or less?”
“I don’t know,” said Beth frowning. “It’s late and I’m tired. That mustbe why you can justify violence to me. It can’t actually make sense.”
He stopped and wrapped his arms around her. Right there in the street.Beth’s eyes felt gritty and her head was not very clear. She leanedagainst him gratefully. “Hitting you tonight made no sense,” he saidsoftly. “That was pure barbarian, and out of control as well. Nothing likethat will ever happen again, I promise. Even if you take a thousand lovers? Beth!”
She realized she had drifted off to sleep. She looked up and shook herhead to gather her wits. He lifted her into his arms.
“You can’t carry me all the way home,” she protested.
“We’re three doors away, you goose,” he said.
“Are we just going to walk in the front door?” she asked. “There’s alittle side door where they deliver the coal.”
“I’ll be damned if I’ll sneak into my own house,” he said as he put herdown carefully. “It would be better if you walk in, though. Otherwise, thefootman will probably think you’re drunk. Robin,” he said to the hoveringboy. “Off you go. I’ll tell Dooley to let you sleep in.”
Lucien put his arm around Beth and encouraged her up to the big, carveddoors. “What will the footman think?” she asked.
“One of the advantages of our position, my love, is that we don’t haveto care.” Beth had proof that she wasn’t yet fully a member of the highestaristocracy when she felt her cheeks color in the face of the youngfootman’s astonishment.
He was obviously startled by their appearance, on foot in the deadhours of the night, particularly as no one had been aware of themarchioness leaving the house. Of course he said nothing other than apolite, “Good morning, milord, milady.”
Beth made it to her bed. Just. She was three-quarters asleep by thetime Lucien had taken off her gown and shoes. Sadly she remembered theevents of the previous evening.
“I meant what I said in that note,” she said sleepily.
“Don’t worry,” he replied as he gently stroked her hair back from herface. “Tomorrow night nothing is going to prevent us from eliminating ouranxiety, I promise you, my darling.”
Beth awoke the next morning when Redcliff drew back the curtains to letin bright sunlight. The maid bustled over with the tea tray and stopped,staring.
Beth realized she was in her petticoat, and she dreaded to think whather face looked like by now. What on earth should she say, particularlysince the staff must know she and the marquess had returned to the housein the small hours of the morning?
“We went to take Miss Greystone somewhere, Redcliff, and I fell. Bringme a mirror, please.”
One look was enough. There was a distinct purpling of her rightcheekbone. “I think I will keep to my rooms today, Redcliff,” said Beth,trying to ignore the maid’s disbelief at her explanation. She wished shehad the true arrogance of a de Vaux and didn’t give a damn. “Perhaps youcan try to keep visitors away, too.”
“Very well, milady. But it’s a shame you didn’t put something on thatsooner.”
Beth found she experienced only a slight twinge at eating her toast, sothe damage could not be very serious. “Is there anything that would helpnow, Redcliff?”
“Well, some say vinegar and others witch hazel. I’d say the cosmeticpot would be your best chance, milady.” The maid was stiff withdisapproval. Beth wondered if it would be obvious to everyone she met thatshe’d been hit. It increased her resolve to keep to her rooms.
