Page 63 of A Virgin for His Grace
"What manner of confession?" he asked with gentle curiosity, tilting her chin up so that he could see her face in the firelight.
"I have been... less than completely honest about certain aspects of my background," she began hesitantly, her fingers tracing abstract patterns across his chest as she gathered her courage. "There are things about my character and activities that you do not know, things that might change your opinion of me considerably."
Devon's expression grew serious at her obvious distress, and his hands stilled their gentle stroking of her hair.
"What things?" he asked quietly, though his tone held no censure, only patient interest in whatever she felt compelled to share.
"My writing," Arabella said in a rush, as though speaking quickly might somehow lessen the impact of her revelation. "I have been publishing essays and social commentary under a masculine pseudonym for several years now. Political pieces, arguments for reform, critiques of the very system that shapes our society."
She held her breath, waiting for his reaction to what she feared he might consider scandalous behavior for a woman of her supposed breeding and station.
Instead, Devon's face lit up with obvious delight, and he pulled her more firmly against him with renewed enthusiasm.
"My brilliant wife," he said with genuine admiration, "I wondered when you would find the courage to share that particular secret with me."
"You... you knew?" Arabella asked with amazement, pulling back to stare at him with wide eyes.
"I suspected," Devon replied with slight embarrassment. "Your comments about various political and social issues were far too well-informed and passionately held to be the casual observations of someone without deeper involvement in such matters. When I had my investigators look into Whitmore's background, I also had them conduct a discrete inquiry into your own activities."
"You investigated me?" Arabella asked, though her tone held more curiosity than offense.
"I needed to understand the full scope of what I was protecting," Devon explained gently. "If there were any secrets in your past that Whitmore might use against you, I had to know about them in order to counter his threats effectively."
"And when you discovered my... literary activities?"
"I was impressed beyond measure," Devon replied withsincere enthusiasm. "The essays published under the name 'A. Gentleman' have been creating quite a stir in political circles. Your arguments for educational reform and women's property rights are both cogent and passionate. Exactly what I would expect from someone of your intelligence and principles."
The genuine admiration in his voice sent warmth flooding through Arabella's entire being, and she felt tears prick her eyes at this evidence of his complete acceptance of her unconventional activities.
"You are not... shocked? Disapproving? Most gentlemen would consider such pursuits entirely inappropriate for a lady of breeding."
"Most gentlemen," Devon replied with growing warmth, "are fools who mistake convention for wisdom and silence for virtue. I married you for your mind as much as your beauty, my darling wife. The knowledge that you have been using that mind to advance causes you believe in only increases my admiration for your character."
"Even if such activities might reflect poorly upon your own reputation? A duke's wife publishing radical political commentary is hardly conventional behaviour."
Devon's laugh was rich with genuine amusement. "My dear duchess, conventional behaviour has never held much appeal for me. Indeed, I find myself rather looking forward to the reactions when London society realises that the mysterious 'A. Gentleman' whose work they have been debating in their drawing rooms is actually the new Duchess of Ravenshollow."
The prospect of such revelation should have terrified Arabella, yet something in Devon's obvious pride in her accomplishments gave her courage she had never possessed before.
"You would not object to my continuing such work?" she asked hesitantly. "Even now that I bear your name and title?"
"Object?" Devon's voice carried a note of surprise that she could even ask such a question. "My darling wife, I would be honoured to support your literary endeavours in whatever way you might require. Indeed, as a duchess, you will have access to social and political circles that could provide excellent material for your commentary."
The generous offer was more than Arabella had ever dared hope for, and she felt her love for him deepen even further at this evidence of his progressive attitudes.
"There is more," she said with growing confidence. "The essays have been... financially successful. More successful than I ever anticipated. I have been saving the proceeds, thinking perhaps someday I might have enough to establish some measure of independence."
Devon's expression grew thoughtful at this revelation, and she held her breath as she waited for his response to what might be seen as an indication that she had not trusted in his ability to provide for her.
"How much?" he asked with obvious curiosity.
"Nearly three thousand pounds," Arabella admitted withslight embarrassment. "I know it is a paltry sum compared to your wealth, but to me it represented the possibility of... of freedom, I suppose."
"Three thousand pounds is hardly paltry," Devon replied with obvious respect. "Indeed, it represents a considerable achievement for someone working under such constraints. You should be proud of your success, not embarrassed by it."
"And you do not mind that I possessed such resources whilst accepting your charity as Livia's companion?"
Devon was quiet for a long moment, and Arabella feared she had somehow offended him with her deception. When he finally spoke, however, his voice held only gentle understanding.
