Page 8 of Ironvine

“How then would you classify your former mistress?”

“The Duchess is a singular woman.” Hugh’s gaze remained on the crowded streets outside the carriage window, but his voice had gone lower, serious.

That woman’s cunny had bewitched his brother, Charles was certain. Their illicit relationship had lasted for almost three years and was known only amongst the Duke’s very small and very tight-lipped inner circle. And, of course, the Duke himself.

To be together freely, the pair would mostly stay at the Duke’s remote estate in the north as well as travel abroad as often as possible. Last year they’d lived in Naples for several months at a house she’d rented for them. But now, it had come to an end. Hugh hadn’t wanted to speak of it, and frankly, Charles did not want to hear his tale of woe.

“For both of you, the only future in that relationship was scandal eventually.”Charles let out a sigh. “I must say, I find it quite remarkable of His Grace to allow his wife her own lover.”

“The Oakleys are enlightened minds, Charles. I’ll have you know, he very much enjoyed watching me swive his wife. It would excite him exceedingly.”

“Did Her Grace know?”

“Of course she knew.”

“And how did she find it?”

“Made her even more feral.”

“Enlightened indeed.”

“What a time it was…” Hugh’s voice took on a huskier tone as he absently rubbed a hand down his chest. “You can’t begin to imagine what we’d get up to at that house. The Duke enjoys a diverse assortment of pleasures, and I learned much from him.”

Charles said nothing in reply. He leaned his head back against the cushions.“Well done. Father would have been so proud of you,”he thought to himself.

This was the first time Hugh had ever told him anything about his life with the Duke and Duchess. Charles had heard vague rumors of exclusive gatherings at the Duke’s northern estate for his inner circle of which Hugh had been a member. Debauchery and revelry on a grand scale for a select few were on an elaborate menu of sordid delights to indulge in. Delights that his brother obviously very much enjoyed and probably missed.

But Charles was not an enthusiast of covens or of despotic veneration, and he much preferred to hunt and indulge on his own.

“Is Frederica Ashton still Oakley’s mistress?” Charles asked.

“Not sure.” Hugh kept his gaze trained on the road.

“You don’t know?”

“So many women would come and go, and I minded my business. Some lasted for months, others only a matter of weeks.”

“The Duke has refined criteria too, eh?”

“He most certainly does. And if he loses interest for whatever reason, they’re cast out.”

“Perhaps he should consider keeping a variety of females to suit each particular interest. Like a Sultan. That would certainly make his life easier.”

“Oh, do shut up,” Hugh snapped at him through gritted teeth.

“Zounds, I thought you’d enjoy the jest. I only asked because this morning at St. James, Aunt Vivian had asked me if I’d seen Mrs. Ashton. It seems they’d been friends and lost contact in the past months. I told her last year I’d seen Mrs. Ashton with Oakley quite often here in London and then in Bath. But this season I hadn’t seen her at all. I thought to ask if you’d seen her at the estate up north?”

“As I said, I minded my business.”

“Of course you had to mind your manners with the Duke. You were fucking his wife, after all.”

Hugh ignored his comment and poured himself more brandy. “Mutual consent makes the Oakleys’ marriage work brilliantly. Something for us all to learn from and aspire to.”

“Do you endeavor to be that sort of enlightened husband, then?”

Charles’s slightly caustic tone was not lost on Hugh, and he shot him a cool look. “Do you forget so many of our forbearers kept high-born mistresses as well as a wife?”

“No, I have not forgotten. Our own father did, but he was certainly no enlightened husband.”

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