“And hidden inside the case of another book to disguise it. I tell you, Patience, I am most relieved to be able to return it to her. It was only to be a loan.”
“Then her book will be published?”
Catherine frowned. “I had hoped as much, but I fear not. Father is adamant that he will not consider it. In fact, he is a little vexed with me at this juncture, for even daring to make the suggestion.”
“You did not have this volume to show him, though, to better make your case.”
“But he knew of it already.” Catherine rose to her feet and walked the length of the room. “It is so frustrating to realize, Patience, how much of the world is hidden from us, how many truths are secured behind locked doors so that we, mere women, cannot partake of this knowledge.” She flung out a hand. “This lady’s book helped me and Rhys, and I am not ashamed to admit it. I knew nothing of what to expect, until I read its pages.”
“Our mother died too young to give us such advice.”
“But she might not have done as much, even if she had lived. All matters of the marital bed are treated as great secrets, never to be surrendered to respectable women, even before their nuptial nights.” Catherine’s voice rose in vexation. “How could we be prepared? How are we to know what to do?” She exhaled mightily. “And so, I did not know, and so we could not speak of it. I had no notion how to begin. I should never have dared to approach Rhys as I did without such counsel, to initiate encounters that gave us both great satisfaction, and now we are so happy together. I could not have borne if our earlier situation had continued…”
“You were not happy with your husband?”
Catherine considered Patience, choosing her words. “Men have expectations of marriage, Patience, and particularly of the marital bed. They have more experience in such matters, as a rule, while we are left—” she flung out her hands “—blind in the darkness, yet needing to resolve the situation. Rhys had concerns for my welfare, which I was able to overcome.” She took a deep breath and Patience realized she would not surrender more detail. “I am convinced that many, many marriages would be happier unions if ladies had access to this lady’s advice.”
Patience had only one question, one that should have been obvious to anyone of her acquaintance. “May I read it?”
“No! You are unwed.”
“I might be able to argue your cause with Father.”
“If I let you read it now, he is more likely to disown me. He heartily disapproves of this book, Patience, probably because he believes ladies should only learn such details from their husbands.” She heaved a sigh. “But all husbands are not as eloquent as Father must have been.”
Patience could only consider how much she wanted to read this volume, given that it was going to repair marriages far and wide if read, given that its contents were forbidden to her.
Against every expectation, here was another cause to take a husband.
She eyed her sister, who was rubbing her temple, vexed by the situation and clearly in no mood to do any matchmaking. She found her gaze roving the shelves of the library, as if she might spot the book in question, without even knowing what it looked like.
“May I borrow this one before you return it to your acquaintance?”
“Patience! How can you ask me such a thing?”
“You have read it.”
“Not all of it. Some of the details are most salacious.”
“Oh!” Patience eyed the book with even greater interest.
“I already have to give the author bad news. I must at least return her book along with her manuscript.”
“And who is the author?” she asked, suddenly struck by the gap in her sister’s accounting. “Who is she to possess such knowledge in abundance and advice to share?”
“Her name is Mrs. Oliver and she is a widow several times over. She has the most remarkable manner.” Catherine frowned, and Patience had the sudden impression that her sister’s next words would not be entirely truthful. How unfair she was! Catherine was always honest. “The book has been lauded by another lady of experience beyond my own, but her name is not to be mentioned.”
How like Catherine to keep such a promise. Patience smiled at her. “But if the content is so reliable as that, then its publication could not help but be a highly profitable venture…”
“I believe so, but Father refuses and so does Uncle Richard. I spoke to them both but they were resolute. As much as I wish to see the book published, I cannot even think of taking it to another publisher.”
“You would be giving them the profits.”
“Exactly. It would feel disloyal.”
Patience considered the conundrum for only a moment. “Could you not begin a publishing firm of your own? You know how to structure the business, and I would assist you…”
“And I am in no condition to undertake such a venture,” Catherine said, cupping her hand around her rounding belly.
