Free Lessons From a Scarlet Lady by Emma Wildes Page A

recognize the inequity in the sexes as far as power went, in bed and out of it. “Ours. Very firmly,” he asserted. “But let’s be honest. The control belongs to us. Intelligent females know this. Keeping us happy makes their lives easier, especially if they are at our mercy, like our wives.”
    “Brianna is not at my mercy.” Colton swiveled in his saddle, giving his best display of ducal disdain, eyebrows up, a haughty set to his features. “She’s my wife, not a prisoner or slave.”
    Robert couldn’t hide his amusement. “I am sure you give her a generous allowance, but I am just as sure you govern the manner in which she spends it. On the same note, you allow her to accept invitations to various entertainments on the behalf of both of you . . . but I’d wager you reserve the right to approve them and reverse her decisions. She may go out alone, but only if she is accompanied by her maid or some reasonable substitute, so alone is a relative term, correct?”
    “I am not some despotic—”
    “No,” Robert interrupted, “you aren’t. You are simply a typical husband. We make females very dependent on us, don’t we? What we view as protection could easily be interpreted as smothering dominance.”
    After a moment, Colton exhaled a long sigh that rang with exasperation. “Let’s say I concede all that, though Brianna has never complained even once about any of those small rules. . . .”
    Robert gave an inelegant snort at the use of the word “small.” For himself, if anyone even attempted to direct him in how he should spend his money or overrode his decision on any matter—even something as trivial as whether to attend a play or go to a soiree—he would be annoyed beyond belief. Then again, he was male, and once he’d reached his majority, he’d had carte blanche in how to live his life. But the status quo among married couples was that husbands always had the last say. Married women had as little autonomy as unmarried women who had to defer to their fathers.
    His older brother ignored the derisive sound and went on determinedly, “I still say she is acting strangely.”
    “And I say she is merely high-spirited and maybe more adventurous than you at first assumed. Why brood over such a delightful thing as an enthusiastic woman in your bed, even if she is your wife?”
    Colton rubbed his jaw with a gloved hand, his eyes narrowed against the sun. “I suppose when put that way, it is ridiculous to spend my time worrying over it, but I admit she caught me very off guard. When I queried her about where she got the notion for her behavior, she was evasive.”
    Robert fought the urge to break into a fit of laughter. “Only you, Colt, would pose an interrogation after a particularly satisfying sexual encounter. You do have a tendency to overthink things. You always have.”
    “I’m more used to experienced females,” his brother murmured. “This is all new to me and, perhaps you’re right, could be perfectly natural as she becomes more adjusted to the intimacies of being married. However, her closest two friends are Bonham’s new countess and Rebecca Marston. I can’t see Bonham tutoring his wife in such a way, for they’ve been married a month less than Brianna and I. Miss Marston is unmarried, well chaperoned by her protective father, and a very refined young lady. Neither seems a likely candidate for whispering scandalous suggestions into my wife’s ear, and I can’t think of anyone else with whom Brianna would discuss something so personal. I suppose my sister-in-law might have said something, but truly, she’s a respectable matron with three children.”
    The mention of the lovely Rebecca with her sea green eyes and gleaming dark hair brought back Robert’s memories of holding her pressed to that wall of hedge, his mouth hovering over hers and the quiver of her shapely body against him. The incident was trivial, nothing but a few moments of polite speech followed by the ensuing rush to