Rose laughed, knowing she shouldn’t. “That aside, I mean that the lady wants to have an affair. She’s quite willing, even…eager?”
“If you mean that the ladies are often the ones to seek me out and initiate the affair, you are correct.”
“How do they do that? I mean, there’s not some secret signal, is there?” Rose was so curious about this forbidden realm of society. “How do they know to approach you?”
“Hmm, that last question is easier. My reputation is self-perpetuating, in the sense that since I am known to be an ardent and attentive lover—I’m not being boastful, merely repeating the consensus—so the bored wives and widows of London set their sights on me and all I have to do is pick.”
“Then it’s mutual. You’re not harming a woman’s marriage prospects or her family’s reputation.”
“Not if I can help it.” He inhaled, a breath deep enough for Rose to hear the tension in him, then he said, “I have to admit that I’ve made mistakes. Some of my earlier exploits were dicey. As a younger man, I had not quite understood the rules—young men are allowed to blunder and I blundered quite a bit. I picked my lovers based on their attractiveness and my mood, which led to a few misunderstandings.”
“So there are rules?”
“Oh, yes. Affairs may be safely conducted with widows, or wives who’ve already borne heirs, thus securing the family line. Such women are relatively free to discreetly pursue their own interests.”
“And have you a mistress? Most gentlemen do, is that true?”
“Some do. It’s perfectly accepted to have a lover of a lower class, or a kept mistress, but many men don’t. I don’t.”
“Why not?”
He paused, for so long that Rose decided her questions were quite beyond the pale and even he was offended by them. Then he said, “It’s too like indentured servitude. A mistress is kept, you know. She’s offered financial protection and other such benefits. I don’t like the idea that I can’t be sure if a woman was interested in me, or merely in the comfortable life I could provide.”
“But surely you can’t be so concerned,” Rose teased. “After all, your reputation…”
He took her hand. “No, everyone is concerned with what others think of them, even those who pretend they don’t care one whit.”
“Like you.”
“Like me. You’re full of interesting questions, Miss Blake. What has brought all this on?”
She thought about it for a moment, then confessed, “No one tells us anything. Ladies, that is. Poppy and I have so many questions about so many things, but everyone wants to keep us wrapped in cotton, as if we’re china that will shatter with the least nudge.”
“To be fair, they are trying to protect you.”
“Ah, yes, because if we eat from the tree of knowledge, we’ll all become little Eves, sinning for the rest of our days,” Rose said, rather bitterly.
“They have your best interests at heart,” Adrian reminded her. “As I said, young men are allowed to blunder. Young women are not.”
“It’s not fair.”
“No,” he agreed. “But that’s the world we live in.”
About to expound on the injustice of it all, Rose suddenly paused, hearing something strange in the corners of her perception. A sort of desperate sound, but very faint.
She put her hand on Adrian’s arm, signaling him to keep silent. “Did you hear that?” she whispered. “There’s something…distressed…I think…over there.” She pointed in the direction the sound was coming from. “Maybe near the rosebushes?”
“Stay,” Adrian told her. “I’ll go and find out what it is.”
He left her and walked in the same direction. The sound stopped for a moment, and then resumed, louder.
“What the…” Adrian muttered, and then Rose heard the sound of rustling leaves as Adrian dove into the rosebush.
* * * *
On the other side of the garden, Poppy walked with Mr. de la Guerra, covertly assessing him while she also tried to keep an eye on Rose and Lord Norbury. The last time she looked, they were sitting on a broad stone bench in full view of nearly the whole yard, so Poppy could devote only a small part of her attention to them, and the rest to the new gentleman, and his startling pronouncement.
“Of course I like protecting those who need it. What sort of person doesn’t?”
