Free Dawn in My Heart by Ruth Axtell Morren Page A

didn’t like what I saw of matrimony.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” she asked puzzled.
    â€œMatrimony among our class seems to be a hypocritical arrangement between two individuals who agree to turn a blind eye to the other’s dalliances. Forgive the bluntness, but so often it is only one of the partners who gets to enjoy the pleasures of extramarital affairs, while the other is forced to suffer in silence.”
    For someone who had never been married, he spoke as if he were acquainted firsthand with that kind of pain. It was not in the tone of voice, which had retained its airy, slightly amused quality as if he were commenting on a light romantic comedy. But the words themselves were, as he had said, blunt, and certainly improper to be speaking to a young, unmarried lady.
    â€œI know many things go on in society,” she began slowly. “I believe my parents were happily married, however unfashionable that might appear,” she said, wanting to believe it, despite her mother’s cynical words of advice. Could shehave cheated on dear Papa? No. Gillian wouldn’t give credence to the idea.
    Lord Skylar swung his walking stick to and fro along the gravel path. “That is indeed a feat, if indeed improbable.”
    â€œI could never consider such a thing of Papa! I know he was faithful to my mother,” she stated with finality.
    â€œWell, for the sake of your memories, I hope you are right.” He smiled, a smile that had a hint of tenderness in it. “So, you see why I have retained my bachelorhood. Besides, I had an elder brother to fulfill the duties of heir. He, alas, died childless.”
    Gillian turned to her new pet, tiring of the topic of marriage and fidelity. “What shall we name her?” she asked with a tug on the leash.
    â€œWe?”
    â€œWell, you are part owner, you know.”
    â€œI haven’t the foggiest. I’ll allow you the honor.”
    Suddenly the animal in question spied a squirrel scampering up a thick trunk. She dashed toward it, yanking the leash out of Gillian’s hands.
    â€œHeel!” Lord Skylar’s sharp command brought the dog to an immediate halt, though she whined in protest, her nose sniffing forward. Sky picked up the leash.
    â€œGood girl,” he told the dog, bending down to pet her and offering her a biscuit from his pocket. He then rose and took over the leash. The dog strained toward the tree where she’d spied the squirrel. It was no longer in sight.
    â€œI’m sorry, dear,” Gillian spoke to her pet. “But you’ll never catch it now. It’s gone up the tree,” she explained, petting the animal’s neck.
    They resumed their walk. “You’d do best to train her early.Keep a firm hand on her and reward her when she obeys,” Lord Skylar advised.
    He gave her a wry look. “You’ll probably mother her to death, indulge her every whim, and end up with a spoiled, ill-behaved mutt on your hands.”
    She merely laughed at him. She was beginning to suspect he had a rather tender heart behind that detached demeanor. Perhaps he wouldn’t make such an awful husband.
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    Tertius walked along the streets of Mayfair after he’d escorted Gillian and her new pet back home. The day was a splendid summer one. He passed the shops on Bond Street. The sidewalks were filled with shoppers. He stopped to glance in at a window or two, but his mind was distracted. He kept thinking of his impending marriage. It no longer seemed a burdensome task.
    In less than a fortnight he’d gone from outrage at his father’s preposterous announcement that Tertius must not only marry posthaste but that the bride was already picked out, to a sense of anticipation at his forthcoming nuptials.
    The chit was getting to him, he realized, looking at the latest satirical prints in Ackermann’s bow window. He continued his walk, wondering when this shift had occurred. His mind kept