He never dreamed of opposing her wishes.

There was no lady in England so completely her own mistress, so completely mistress of every one and everything around her, as her Grace of Hazlewood.
When the season came around again, and the brilliant life which she had laid out for herself was hers, she might have been the happiest of women but for the cloud which darkened, her whole existence.

Lord Arleigh had kept his promise--he, had been her true friend, with her husband's full permission.

The duke was too noble and generous himself to feel any such ignoble passion as jealousy--he was far too confiding.

To be jealous of his wife would never have entered his mind; nor was there the least occasion for it.