His hands returned her squeeze. “I’m just so sorry for all of it. I wish—"
“You would apologize on behalf of the entirety of the patriarchal system?” Lillian laughed softly at this. “I did a good deal of thinking over the course of this journey, and if we can best this system and protect your sister somehow, then I am more than pleased to do my part.”
“Because you have had a taste of the consequences yourself.”
She nodded. “Crawford fixated most of his temper on my mother. She put herself between us. She rarely failed to protect her daughters. But we feared him. And fearing for my mother’s safety was almost as bad.”
He searched her gaze with his for several moments before he seemed to arrive at a decision. “I should have known this about you.”
At his words, she smiled. “And now you do. And we will spend the time that we do have coming to know one another even better. We have an arrangement, but we are also friends.”
“We are.” Some of the color had returned to his face. “I want to know more about you, if you will allow it. I’d like to know your past—how you spend your days, your passions, your fears. I don’t completely understand what drives a woman like you, but I look forward to learning.”
“I would like the same.” She only hoped that they had the time to do so. She swallowed hard.
Which brought her back to the original reason for this marriage to begin with.
“There is an elaborate tray of delicacies laid out for us next door. The cooks downstairs have apparently gone all out and I’d hate for their efforts to go to waste…”
He rose from the chair and, with her hands still clasped in his own, assisted her to her feet. “Forgive me?” His jaw clenched, as though he was frustrated with himself.
“There is nothing to forgive.” She took the arm he offered and the two of them made their way out of his chamber. “All of this is lovely, really.” Lillian gestured toward the settee and the table set up in hers. Although they had talked much of this out, she couldn’t help but feel awkward. She was a practical person by nature and was fully prepared to undertake marital relations, but the act was a rather intimidating one for an untouched lady. Now that she was no longer concerned for his well-being, a swarm of bumble bees took flight inside her as she lowered herself to the velvet settee beside him .
“Champagne?” He leaned forward, lifting the bottle and one of the flutes.
“Yes, please.” Her throat tightened. A thick silence had fallen between them and she hoped that the effects of the champagne would dispel it.
Should she flirt? Should she attempt to be enticing?
“How should we do this?” she finally asked, knowing she was out of her depth but needing to have some sort of control of the situation.
He handed her a full glass and, staring over the rim, took a long swallow of his own. When he lowered it again, he swallowed and, holding her gaze, answered, “However you wish.”
He was giving her choices.
“My sister-in-law’s mother instructed her to lie still and endure her husband,” Lillian would take matters into her own hands. “But Louella didn’t listen to her mother. She confessed to me that there was an altogether different approach.”
His leg began jumping again, but he seemed to comprehend what she was telling him.
“Your sister-in-law’s mother’s philosophy is not an ideal approach. It can be… uncomfortable for the woman—painful even. But it is a dispassionate way to accomplish consummation without developing intimacy.” He stared at the bubbles rising in his glass.
“I cannot help but believe my demise would be easier on my wife if we abstain from…emotional intimacy. I don’t want to hurt you.”
His words deflated her.
“And yet,” he continued. “As there are disadvantages to both, I am not averse to...” He cleared his throat, that foot of his bouncing even faster now. “…the second approach.” He took another long swallow from his glass. “Do you have a preference?”
Lillian did not have to think about it. “The second approach, initially. If problems arise from doing so, at any time, we could revert to the more… detached method.” She lifted her glass and swallowed nearly half of its contents. “As long as you are amenable?”
She met his gaze from beneath her eyelashes. Because she found him very attractive. And oddly enough, this conversation was doing odd things to her breathing.
“I am.” He finished his glass and placed it on the low table set before them. But then he turned all of his attention back to her, placing his arm along the back of the seat, his fingers playing with a few strands of her hair.
When his thumb brushed along her jaw, a shiver ran through her.
“Are you finally going to kiss me?”
“Better late than never.” He smiled and leaned toward her. She had read about the different types of kisses. The Romans had named them. A chaste kiss upon the cheek was named theosculum. Thebasiumwas more intimate, lips upon lips. And the third kind, thesavium, was an oral representation of the act of lovemaking.
