“Someprivilege?” It was all she could do not to ball her skirts in her fists, but he would not ruin her favorite green silk along with everything else. She settled for standing straight, hands on her hips, staring him down. “You were handed a title, estates, and a fortune for no reason other than the circumstances of your birth.”
“And I strive damned hard to ensure the livelihoods of those who rely on it.” His nostrils flared and she wondered how he could keep his voice so well controlled. “My tenants and the communities I patron are my focus every moment of my day. Every decision I make is with their well-being in mind.”
“And to hell with the rest of us, yes?” He was willing to put an entire industry out of work.
The duke scowled and his tone turned ice cold. “I cannot be responsible for the entire country. Estate owners must be responsible for their own people, just as I am responsible for mine.”
God, the aristocracy was insufferable. “And for those of us in the cities? Who in power will support us when we have no power ourselves?” The admission drew more oxygen from her than it should. She could barely breathe. Carving out her autonomy had taken a lifetime and in one sentence she’d betrayed herself.
We have no power.No. It was not true. She would not let it be so for her.
The duke’s lips flattened and he shifted from foot to foot. Good. If she hoped hard enough, maybe his trousers would chafe like shark skin for the rest of the evening.
“People in the cities must support themselves. We pass laws that help them do so, but we cannot take the same personal responsibility that we do with those who belong to our communities.”
She felt her heartbeat flicker at the base of her throat. His eyes dropped to it and she saw him swallow. Her insides twisted in response. “Why not?” she demanded. “Is it not your duty as a lawmaker to take responsibility for all?”
His scowl deepened. “If people wanted to be under the protection of a landowner, they should have stayed in the country. The decision to leave was their own, and it had consequences—for them and for those left behind who still bear the brunt of other people’s choices.”
Fury seethed through her. She dug her toes into the ground to keep herself from launching at him, teeth bared and nails at the ready. “People leave for a better life. For work opportunities that don’t exist in the country.”
“As they have every right to do.” He ran a hand through his hair, tugging hard at the ends. “But, if things didn’t turn out the way they expected, that is their problem, not mine.”
Arrogant bastard. How could she possibly have thought him kind or interesting or handsome? She was a good judge of character, but clearly, she’d erred. “The problem may notaffectyou, but it is yours regardless. You are trying to steal people’s opportunities with your infernal machine, and your actions should haunt you.”
He colored and stepped closer. Rarely had she stood toe-to-toe with someone so angry. “As I said, my responsibility lieswith my tenants, with myfamily, and in order to care for them the way I ought, the Linotype must succeed.”
“At the expense of others.” What cruel, calculating, narrow-minded thinking.
“Every change is at the expense of someone, but stasis is equally harmful. The Linotype offers a future you can’t imagine.” His tone was condescending now, and what friendly feelings she’d had for him died.
It was her turn to advance. She was not intimidated by him—not his height, not his title, not his anger. If he thought her an easy opponent, he would be sorely surprised.
“I’m not interested in your future,” she spat. “You are the vilest of creatures. You care nothing for the people who will be put out on the street so that you can further line your coffers. You are a duke—a soulless automaton like the machines you build, without feeling.”
He flinched, as though her words had cut. Good. That was her intention. Maybe he could sense the magnitude of his actions.
He swallowed, and while she might have been mistaken, she thought she heard a waver in his voice. “Can I not be a person like any other?” he asked. “Can I not feel the burden I bear? Can I not experience fear and sorrow and defeat? You call me soulless, yet you know nothing about me.”
For a second, he looked like he had before she’d realized the truth. But she would not feel guilty about the hurt in his eyes. “Spare me your self-pity, Your Grace. No amount of two-stepping will make you the hero in this situation. You are a pox on society.”
His expression hardened. There was no longer a trace of vulnerability. He shifted once more into his real self. “And you are a waspish shrew who thinks the world must stand still so thatshe does not need to do the work of evolving. I hope when you say the wordsselfish,arrogant, andcruel, you see your own reflection in the windows there, because if you want to know what selfish looks like in this situation, that is it.”
Never had her blood boiled like it did now. Her entire being vibrated with rage. How dare he paintheras the villain in this scenario? How dare he accuseherof selfishness?
“The Linotype will never do what I do. I don’t care how fast you think it is, I’m faster. I make fewer errors. I am the best there is in this business. You will never be able to touch me.” He would lose. He had to lose. The alternative was a life she couldn’t even picture.
His pitying look made her want to punch him. She was not delicate. She was not a “lady.” She would not hesitate to fight. “I’m serious, Your Grace. I’ll prove it any time, any day.”
He narrowed his eyes, and she could see the wheels in his brain turning. Was he afraid to go up against her? Good. He should be.
Finally, he said, “The day after tomorrow, then.”
Dash it. She was supposed to be working the day after tomorrow. Sophie had a book that needed to hit the presses by the end of the week in order to remain on schedule, and Eleanor still had the last chapter to set. She would have to make the time up. Sophie had given her keys to the building. She could push herself harder this week.
“Name the time and place.”
“Shall we nominate seconds?” he asked with a smirk.
