He was not looking forward to this evening, and hadn’t been since the moment Rosalind stormed into his study and demanded that he take his duchess somewhere. “You’ve married a wonderfully intelligent and sensible woman, Marcus, but you are treating her like a child,” she’d accused him. “People are beginning to say you are ashamed of her.” He’d bitten his tongue to keep from suggesting he might be. The vicar’s wife might be passably attractive, but it was clear she was not a society lady. She wasn’t a lady at all, he had fumed to himself, cursing David yet again. She greeted servants like equals and allowed her child to run wild all about the house and garden, instead of being tucked away in the nursery. When he had dined with the ladies, Marcus had been appalled to discover she apparently wasn’t very educated, for she made no effort to lead the conversation, displaying none of the witty banter society would expect in a duchess.
