Across the cover, gold-embossed letters readThe Lady’s Guide to All Things Useful.
“You might think it old-fashioned,” Clodagh passed her fingers over the slightly faded pink leather, “but it was a gift from my own mother and it’s given me confidence, now and then, to read the advice within its pages. Some may be pertinent,being about the…ah…marital state.” Clodagh was not managing to meet Onora’s eye. “You and I haven’t had a chance for that particular conversation—at least, not in any detail. If there’s anything pressing you’ve been meaning to ask me, I suppose now is the time…”
“I shall study it most thoroughly.” Hastily, Onora tucked the edition beneath her arm, wanting to save her aunt—and herself—further awkwardness. If she were to seek enlightenment on anything relating to bedroom matters, she doubted it would be to either of her aunts that she’d turn.
They assembledclose to the waterside to see off the boat and, all too soon, Onora could no longer see the figure of her aunt waving from the stern.
While the others drifted away, Seton remained at her side. “Time to think of happier things. A hand or two of bridge will remedy any gloom, yes? Then we might spend sometime alone this evening. There hasn’t been enough of that.”
The surety of his forefinger beneath her chin brought her eyes to meet his. His stare made it impossible for her to prevaricate. There was little of suggestion and far more of command in the depths of his gaze.
“I’ll be inside shortly.” She blinked, endeavoring to break the spell, and was relieved when he released her.
“Don’t be long.” Seton’s slender lips curved into a smile. “I should like to know you better, and that cannot be achieved without us baring a great deal more of ourselves. That shall be easier without your aunt watching over you.”
The statement was strangely expressed, but Onora knew it to be true. She was sad to see Clodagh leave, but she understood it would allow her to step into a more mature version of herself—no longer the child that Clodagh saw, but the woman she was ready to become.
It’s time to cease being scared ofthat.
I may begin by playing a role, of behaving as I believe I should, but duties soon become habits, and I shall get used to them.
The unknown was always more frightening than the reality, wasn’t it? Before long, she needed to have a serious conversation with Seton about their wedding plans.
Onora glanced toward the encampment. Mr. Balfour had not come to pay his respects, wishing her aunt a safe journey. Then again, why should he? He and Clodagh barely knew one another.
She had almost reached the house, passing a hedge of oleander, when she stopped. For a moment, she thought someone was there, behind the bushes, watching—and that it might be Mr. Balfour after all.
There was no reply to her call.
CHAPTER 14
In bed that night, Onora attempted to ease her worry about Aunt Maeve. She made herself picture her two aunts together again: Clodagh entering the house they shared in Cowley Place, finding Maeve well, occupying the armchair by the fire with a pot of tea and a plate of hot, buttered crumpets on the table beside.
That’s how it shall be.
Of course, it wasn’t only Aunt Maeve who occupied her mind. There was no denying her apprehension over her forthcoming marriage—ofwhich there had been much talk that afternoon by the ladies, and at the dinner table too. Even the gentlemen had expressed an opinion on how the celebrations ought to be conducted, which Onora had found most unusual. Seton would arrange the lodging of the necessary paperwork with the British authorities in Cairo, that their union might be recorded and recognized, and the Reverend Griffiths confirmed his willingness to oversee their vows, which might be exchanged in one of the capital’s Coptic churches.
She’d brought with her a rather fine silk costume that would be suitable for the occasion, ruffled prettily upon the sleeves and the bustle, and embroidered through the bodice.
It lay folded away.
Aunt Clodagh had suggested hanging it with her others, but Onora had been loath to do so, making some excuse of bridal superstition.
Still, she knew it was there, within the trunk at the foot of her bed.
Waiting.
To distract herself, she picked up the book Aunt Clodagh had given her.
All Things Useful! I’ll be the judge of that!
Flicking through, she could see that the contents were alphabetical, with a chapter on bunions right next to one on bravery, then bloating, then…‘Bedroom Matters’.
The subject of conjugation between the sexes might easily consume a whole book by itself. It is enough to say that where affection exists, and a man is patient, physical coupling may become a source of pleasure to both parties.
A whole book on conjugation! Now that would be worth reading.
Was there affection between her and Seton? It did not seem the right word. Her own feelings sat somewhere between fascination and fright. As for his, she supposed he must be fond of her. He wasn’t marrying her for wealth or status, so what else remained?
