“Ah.” Charlie’s jaw tightened. “How far did things go?”
“Not far…beyond the kissing. But they could have,” Pippa said in a low voice. “If he hadn’t refused to remove his mask. That brought me back to my senses. Made me realize that I was dealing with yet another man who would hide things from me. And I left.”
“A wise choice,” Charlie said with a brisk nod. “The Prince of Larks has made his fortune from secrets. I have never seen him without his mask; it’s part of his enigmatic persona.”
Pippa recalled the way Cull had been with the children at the Nest. In those moments, he hadn’t seemed enigmatic. He’d been gruff, kind, and exasperated…as any big brother dealing with a houseful of unruly siblings would be.
“And yet, I felt things with him,” Pippa divulged. “Things I’ve never felt before. Not even with…”
It was too shameful to say aloud. To admit that she’d experienced pleasure with a virtual stranger that she hadn’t with the man she’d fallen in love with and married. Over the course of her marriage, she’d begun to fear that she might be…broken in some way. That there might be something wrong with her physically that prevented her from enjoying marital pleasures.
“Although Society tries to convince us otherwise, women have desires just like men do. And these desires are not always—andrarely, I daresay—satisfied in marriage,” Charlie said.
With thrumming relief, Pippa said, “What I felt with Cull was rather powerful. And I don’t want to repeat my mistakes because I am swept up in those feelings. I don’t want to fall for a man and end up hurt in the end.”
“Are you falling for Mr. Cullen or simply experiencing desire for him?”
Pippa furrowed her brow; she hadn’t considered the difference. “I…I don’t know.”
“We ladies are taught that love and desire must go hand in hand; I call this the Great Lie, one that has been used since the beginning of time to control feminine passion,” Charlie said crisply. “Desire is simply a need…like an appetite for food or drink. Love has naught to do with it; indeed, it can muddy the waters. After all, you see men indulging in lust without emotional attachments. Why should the same not hold true for women?”
Faced with that logic, Pippa could only think,Why not indeed?
With a flash of insight, she realized that she’d been afraid of the strong reaction Cull evoked in her. Afraid that it meant she was headed down the same painful path as her marriage. But lust—and yes, that had to be what she’d experienced with Cull, whom she hardly knew—wasnotthe same as love. She wasn’t falling for Cull the way she had for Edwin. Conversely, she hadn’t felt half as much pleasure with her husband as she had with Cull.
Desire and loveweredifferent. If Charlie was correct, then desire was common—a mere appetite. Maybe what Pippa felt with Cull she could have felt with another man. With a dozen other men.
“Moreover, needs can be met outside the marital bower,” her mentor said. “In safe and discreet ways that are far more enjoyable than sacrificing oneself on the altar of matrimony.”
Intrigued, Pippa asked, “What ways?”
“You are a widow. As such, you have independence denied unmarried ladies. You are free to pursue your passions…as long as you don’t get caught.” Charlie gave her a considering look. “I know of an exclusive club where women of a liberated mindset go to explore their desires. Perhaps it is just the place to help put Timothy Cullen behind you.”
9
“There’s no need to be nervous, dearie.” The proprietress of The Enchanted Rose, who’d introduced herself as Mrs. Loverly, gave Pippa’s arm a maternal pat. “Lady Fayne told me to take special care of you, and any friend of the good lady is a friend of mine.”
Afrissonof excitement passed through Pippa. At the same time, her heart lurched at her scandalous undertaking. She couldn’t believe that she’d worked up the nerve to visit a male bawdy house. Her talk with Charlie, however, had convinced her that she needed to expand her horizons. She was tired of being caged by grief, sorrow, and regret. Of feeling lost and confused.
Tonight, she wanted to be free.
As Mrs. Loverly led her down a sumptuous scarlet corridor, Pippa noticed the paintings. Framed in gilt, the pieces were close-up studies of flowers…that bore an uncanny resemblance to a woman’s private part. Pippa stared at a rendering of a pink rose: the tiny bud was surrounded by lush petals dripping with pearly dew.
“The paintings are for sale.” The bawd’s wink was jovial, a crimson plume bobbing in her improbably raven hair. “That one is calledThe Peak of Pleasure, and it’s a bargain at fifty pounds. The frame is extra, of course.”
“Oh.” Cheeks flaming beneath her golden mask, Pippa cast about for another topic. “You, um, know Lady Fayne well?”
“She helped me out of a bind, she did. Took on my case when no one else would. Thanks to her, I was able to stop a blackmailer from bleeding me dry. From then on, I said to myself, we women must stick together.”
“Indeed,” Pippa murmured.
“Now, when we arrive in the drawing room, you go ahead and mingle as you would at any high-kick affair. In truth, many of the ladies will be your acquaintances but, like you, they will be masked and disguised. There’s no need to feel uncomfortable, dearie. You’re all here for the same purpose.”
To find a lover for the night, Pippa thought with a tingle.
“I keep the finest studs in my stables. Anyone you pick will give you a splendid ride—and as many rides as you wish for the evening,” Mrs. Loverly said with a throaty chuckle. “My mounts are known for their stamina.”
Pippa’s knees wobbled.Am I really going through with this?
