Seduced by His Touch by Tracy Anne Warren Page A

surprise, however, she found herself placed next to Lord Jack.
    “Once more, I find myself indebted to your aunt,” he said as he read the names inked on the cards.
    To her left sat an elderly man, who needed a brass ear trumpet to hear. After an exchange of greetings that had to be repeated more than once, he nodded and smiled, then applied himself to his soup, apparently content to eat in silence.
    With the woman to Lord Jack’s right happily conversing with the man on her other side, Grace found herself the sole focus of his attention. She expected him to continue his earlier flirtatious teasing. However, what he said next surprised her.
    “So, Miss Danvers,” he began as he dipped a spoon into his bowl of mushroom bisque. “What is your opinion of Descartes?”
    Her own spoon wavered over her bowl. “Excuse me?”
    “Descartes. You know, ‘I think, therefore, I am.’ Surely you are familiar with his writings.”
    Descartes? He wants to talk about Descartes? A frown settled over her brows. “Why would you think that?”
    “Because we both know you like to read, and since you are familiar with Swift and Johnson, it follows you might have an interest in other men of thought, even a few French ones.”
    “But Swift and Johnson were essayists, not philosophers.”
    “So you do know Descartes.” He smiled and ate a mouthful of soup.
    “My father says I should not. Our society believes a woman ought to plead ignorance about any matter more mentally taxing than stitchery, housekeeping and childrearing. Politics and philosophy should be left to men.”
    “But you do not agree?” he prompted in a measured tone.
    “Apparently not, since you are correct that I have read Descartes. I told Papa that he, Voltaire and Rousseau were part of my French language lessons when I was in school.”
    Lord Jack laughed.
    They each ate a spoonful of soup before continuing.
    “Voltaire and Rousseau, hmm?” he mused. “Do not tell me you believe in the rights of the common man, the will of the people, and other such radical notions?”
    She paused, gauging him. “I’m not in favor of abolishing the monarchy, if that is what you are alluding to. But neither do I think it wrong to allow ordinary people more of a say in their existence. The right to vote, for instance.”
    “Ah, so you would give the vote to everyone regardless of education or income, then. Even women, I suppose?”
    She fell silent, struggling to decide whether or not to answer him. “Yes. Even women.”
    He ate another spoonful of soup, then patted his mouth with his napkin. Leaning near, he lowered his voice. “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but I agree.”
    “You do?” Astonished warmth spread through her.
    He nodded. “Shameful, is it not? A duke’s son who wants to give the commoners their say. As for women, well, they have more intelligence than men like to admit. That’s why so many of my sex want to keep their females ignorant and pregnant. Just imagine the competition if we gave them equal footing.”
    She smiled, marveling at his sentiments. “Yes, just think.”
    Their conversation continued on throughout the meal, roving from one subject to the next—some topics serious, some fanciful, even funny. By the time dessert was served, Grace realized she had no real idea what she had eaten, having been too enraptured by Jack Byron to pay attention to anything else.
    Never one to stand on ceremony, Aunt Jane didn’t ask the women to withdraw in order to allow the men to enjoy their port and cigars in solitary splendor. Instead, everyone rose from the dining table to make their way back to the card room together. To Grace’s secret delight, Lord Jack took her arm, neither of them in a hurry as they strolled toward the parlor.
    Rather than join one of the games, however, the two of them settled onto a padded window seat. While she sipped tea and he nursed a brandy, they continued their discussion, delving for a time into the subjects of art, music