Truly a Wife (Free Fellows League 4)

Daniel nodded. “It was the code by which he lived. The code by which all the dukes of Sussex have lived.”

“You’re describing a very lonely life, Your Grace,” Miranda murmured.

“It is a lonely life.” Daniel shoved his hair off his forehead. “I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone.” He heaved a sigh. “A duke is always set apart from everyone else. Even Griffin is having a difficult time adjusting to the added pressure of being a duke.”

“Griffin has Alyssa to help him.”

“My father had my mother,” Daniel replied. “And although I know you’ll find it difficult to believe, she was a great source of strength for him.”

Miranda wrinkled her brow. He was right. It was difficult for her to believe the duchess had been a source of strength for anyone, but …

“My mother was the daughter of a viscount, and she’s always been very conscious of the fact that she married well beyond her position in society. She devoted herself to the running of Sussex House and maintaining our position in society. She did everything she could to assist my father in his efforts to increase and preserve our holdings, but the weight of the responsibility drove him to an early grave.” Daniel briefly bowed his head, then met her gaze. “My father was the strongest man I’ve ever known. He died reviewing account books at his desk in his study at Sussex House at the age of five and thirty. One day he was strong and healthy and full of life, and the next afternoon, he complained of eyestrain and a headache while deciphering the account books, then suddenly slumped over his desk and died.” Daniel took a deep breath. “My mother was five years his junior when she became a widow and assumed the daunting task of raising a son and protecting my inheritance until I came of age. Fulfilling her obligations and living up to the promises she made when she married my father has made her the woman you see today.” He pulled a face. “And I can’t imagine asking a woman with a title and grand estates of her own over which to worry to give up dreams and a large part of herself in order to become what my mother has become. I can’t imagine subjecting any woman to the constant scrutiny of the ton and the public—much less a woman for whom I might have deep feelings. I don’t want her to have to put away her girlish dreams or to sacrifice her original obligations in order to fulfill the obligations of a duchess.”

“Everyone puts away their childish dreams and makes sacrifices for the ones they love, Daniel. That’s part of growing up, part of life.”

“I don’t want the people about whom I care to have to make sacrifices simply because they wish to share my life. I was born to this position,” he said simply. “I’m a duke. I didn’t ask to be one, but like you, I had no choice. Still, I never believed I would have to assume the title.” Daniel closed his eyes. “I adored my father. We were both early risers.”

Miranda gave him a smug, knowing smile.

“You may not be able to tell it from your experience this morning, but I am generally quite an early riser,” he protested. “And when I was a little boy my father used to sneak up to the nursery, remove me from Nanny’s supervision, and carry me on his shoulders to the front of the house. Long before Cook had the ovens in the kitchen hot, Father would open a window and we’d call down to the street vendors ordering whatever took our fancy for breakfast.”

“Like cherry pies.”

“Cherry was always my favorite,” Daniel said. “We ate cherry pies from the street vendors nearly every day of the season when we were in London. It was our secret, and it made me feel special to have my father’s undivided attention for a while.” He wiped the sheen of perspiration from his brow with the back of his hand. “I never had his attention at Haversham House or any of our other houses because there were too many other people who demanded it. The only time I ever really spent with my father was at home in London early in the mornings, when we’d order milk from the dairymaids and hot cherry pies from the pieman.

“I was only three and ten when he died.”

“I’m sorry.” Miranda and Daniel had moved in the same circles of society since they were children, but he’d been sent away to school when he was seven, and Miranda had been educated at home. She knew a lot of his history but not all of it.

“And I’ve been responsible for hundreds of people since that day. Suddenly, everyone looked to me for answers instead of to my father or my mother. Suddenly, everyone depended upon me.” He exhaled. “And although my father had done his best to prepare me, I wasn’t prepared.” He gave a little snort of derision. “What boy that age is? Suddenly, I employed hundreds of people whose livelihoods and in some cases, their very lives depended upon how well I did my duty. And now that I’m a man grown, I find myself in the rather odd position of admitting that I haven’t rushed to the altar for the simple reason that I don’t wish to assume responsibility for anyone else. I’m not ready to put away all my childish dreams or ask anyone else to do so.”

Especially a freethinker like Miranda. He admired her strong, independent spirit and rebellious streak, and hated the idea of watching her change, hated the thought of watching Miranda reinvent herself as the Duchess of Sussex or anyone else. Daniel wanted her to stay just the way she was. He liked the fact that she stood straight and tall and looked men in the eyes, liked the fact that she considered herself an equal, even if most men—including the peers who sat in the House of Lords—did not. He applauded the fact that Miranda petitioned the Crown for the right to occupy her seat in the House of Lords every year at the opening of Parliament, even though she knew she would never be allowed to take her seat among her peers. But she petitioned the Crown all the same and had done so ever since she’d inherited her father’s title. Daniel admired her for refusing to remain in the background. And he wished he could be more like her.

He was haunted by the thought of dying the way his father had died. Of being overwhelmed by the business of running the estates, of dying before he had ever truly lived.

“I still have dreams,” Daniel told her, “and goals to accomplish before I’m required to forfeit my wild ambitions in order to settle down and produce an heir to succeed me.” So that I can die prematurely while working at the same desk where my father die

d.

He wanted to tell Miranda the whole truth, but the truth sounded juvenile and childish—even to his own ears. The truth was that he was enjoying being a Free Fellow, enjoying the cloak-and-dagger work, the adventure that was so different from his day-to-day life as the Duke of Sussex. “Despite what my mother wants or hopes or thinks, I have no intention of marrying for at least”—he paused to calculate—“another twenty years.”

“You were ready to marry Alyssa Carrollton three years ago,” she pointed out.

“I was willing to consider marriage to Alyssa in order to get my mother to stop pushing her candidates for duchess at me.”

“Three years ago you were willing to marry, but now, you won’t consider it for at least another twenty years?”

“That’s right,” he said. “Because three years ago, I made a bargain with my mother that I would offer marriage to the girl of her choosing, provided the girl agreed to have me. Alyssa, as you well know, had the good sense to reject me wholeheartedly.”

“You pretended to pursue her,” Miranda realized, “but secretly, you were glad she rejected you.”

“Glad isn’t the word for it,” he admitted. “I was thrilled beyond belief.” He looked at Miranda to gauge her reaction, well aware that he was talking about her closest friend.

She scowled. “Yet you continued to play the role of determined suitor after she married Griffin.”

“I had good reasons for doing so,” he explained. “After all, I am a duke. And Griff was only a viscount. I had a reputation to protect.”

Miranda smiled. “You didn’t give a fig about your reputation. You simply wanted to make Griffin jealous enough to claim his wife.”