When the Earl Met His Match (Wedded by Scandal #4) - Stacy Reid Page 0,5

a part of me doubts your capacity for reasoning, given the situation that has prompted me to pen this letter to you. Please, do know I am a lady of quality, and I find the notion of your advert seeking a wife to be insupportable and truly worthy of a cad! I cannot apologize for my boldness, for surely you would grasp that I am insincere about it. Nor do I flatter myself to think you would care about the opinions of a lady with whom you are not intimately acquainted, but I am still encouraged to reply.

I daresay, though we ladies are expected to be prim, proper, respectable at all times, and in possession of all our teeth and also to be pretty enough, you will find that we are more than the biddable creatures society expects us to be. A lady of quality and good sense would require at least a few poems, flowers, artful conversations, and long walks in the park for a man to be deemed worthy of marriage. Clearly, you’ve lacked any sort of respect or affections for the gentler sex. I would be astonished if you should receive handsome feedback, or should I be more astonished if there was silence, since you have vaunted your wealth? Dare I ask why a man of your distinction would not display the required civility and proprieties and court the lady you wish to affiance? What about love? And friendship? Are those not the true foundations upon which one should desire to build a marriage?

Sincerely,

A Curious Lady.

Phoebe left no forwarding address and gave instruction to the footman to have the letter delivered post-haste and that he should await a reply if said gentleman desired to send one.

To her discredit, she could not help but anticipate hearing from the rude man.

…

A few days later, Phoebe was astonished when the butler delivered a letter to her upon a silver slaver in the palatial library of her home. The book she’d been reading, Ivanhoe Walter Scott, was quickly forgotten when Mr. Martin indicated the man had paid her rider to bear his letter to her and even awaited her reply.

Though she’d hoped, Phoebe hadn’t much expected an answer to her scathing letter.

Dear Curious Lady,

I’ll not thank you for your aggrieved letter or waste my time with polite sallies. I can conceive of nothing more tiresome than inane pleasantries, especially those of the hypocritical variety. I find I am similarly compelled to reply to your…boldness. A wife is a helpmate, who will run her husband’s household well, educate any children on propriety befitting their station in life, and should endeavor to keep her husband company loyally. Love has little to do with it. If not for the most pressing circumstances, I believe I would have tried my hand at wooing, though I cannot say I would have done so by long walks and reciting poetry. I am not sure what that would reveal other than that I have sturdy legs and can read.

By the by, given your lack of returned address, I’ve prevailed upon your servant to deliver my letter to you and return your replies to me should you have any. I shall pay him handsomely for his efforts.

Yours,

A Gentleman of Distinction and Wealth.

His reply was the precursor to several exchanges over the next few weeks. Phoebe’s hand trembled, with a sense of thrill, when she had replied,

Dear A Gentleman of Distinction and Wealth,

Loyalty is not a substitute for warmth and affection. Would you not find having a wife who only esteemed you for your wealth and connections insupportable?

Dear Curious Lady,

I would find such a wife sincere in her requirements. But is this not the way of society? To marry for connections and status? What else should be on my criteria?

Sincerely, A Gentleman of Distinction and Wealth.

Dear A Gentleman of Distinction and Wealth,

Love and friendship. How can one exist within marriage without joy and happiness?

Sincerely, A Curious Lady.

Dear Curious Lady,

Love, you astonished me. The bold and brave manner in which you scolded me erroneously encouraged me to believe you a creature of logic and pragmatism. I was evidently quite mistaken, for I formed the opinion that you could be a lady who is beyond certain whimsy. I see I was wrong. You are fanciful…a person who believes in the romantic notion of love and courtship. I confess I neither believe nor disbelieve in such sentiments. I frankly admit I am indifferent to emotion and believe it has no place in a