“I think a little time with friends would be wonderful,” she said. “Thank you for coming, Marianne. My lady.”
“Esme,” Lady Delacourt insisted. “If we are to be friends, I must be called Esme.”
Clarissa nodded. She’d learned from Marianne that there was no use arguing against such a request. And she supposed that tomorrow she would join the ranks of the countesses of Society. So it wasn’t so deep a breach. At least that was what she told herself. “May I call for tea or pour some sherry?”
“Let me,” Esme said. “You are pale as paper. Make her sit, Marianne.”
Marianne took her arm and led her to the settee as Esme went to the sideboard and dug around in the bottles there looking for something for them to drink.
“I felt as though we interrupted something with your mother,” Marianne said. “I’m not sure if I should apologize for that or not.”
“I’ll thank you for it,” Clarissa said, and smiled up at Esme as she handed her a crystal class with a splash of sherry. Esme sat in thechair across from the settee and leaned forward. She was very focused in her attention, as if every word Clarissa said was important.
“Ah, so it wasn’t a pleasant conversation.” Marianne squeezed her hands. “I’m sorry, my dear.”
“And now you’ve gone from pale to red as a tomato,” Esme said. “Which makes me think I know exactly what your mother was discussing with you.”
Marianne’s eyes went wide. “Oh. Is that true? She was havingthe talkwith you?”
Clarissa squirmed. Ladies didn’t talk about such things. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She knew the married ladies sometimes discussed private matters. Discreetly. But they always stopped talking when the unmarried women entered the room.
“I’m embarrassed to admit it,” Clarissa said. “But…yes, she was.”
“And you look sick,” Marianne said slowly.
“How could I not be when someone speaks of such horrors?”
“Horrors?” Esme repeated with a quick glance toward Marianne. “Oh dear. That sounds terrifying. And wrong.”
“Wrong?” Clarissa repeated and her cheeks had never felt so hot in her entire life. “Oh. She would know, though, wouldn’t she?”
“It depends,” Marianne said gently. “I know there are some ladies who don’t like what happens in their bedchambers. And there are some who very, very much do.”
That was encouraging at least. Clarissa shifted and bit her lip as she looked from one woman to the other. She had seen the connection between Marianne and Lord Ramsbury—it was impossiblenotto see it whenever they were near each other. She’d also heard that Esme and Lord Delacourt had also married for love. Shocking, passionate love.
“Would you like to tell us what she said?” Esme encouraged, her expression softening. “And then we can…we could correct her if we feel she isn’t right.”
“Or at least tell you if there are other opinions,” Marianne added.
Clarissa’s chest felt tight and it was hard to draw breath.Everything in her books would scream at her to never, ever say such things to her friends. But in that moment her need to have solace and support overrode propriety. She had to say this out loud to someone. Had to calm the fears her mother had put into her.
She glanced at the door as if her mother would come raging into the chamber, and then told the two women what had been described to her. Both of their expressions grew increasingly horrified with every word. And Clarissa became more and more embarrassed. She was utterly relieved when she finished and bent her head. “So that is all.”
“That poor woman,” Esme muttered, and slugged back her sherry in one gulp.
“Esme,” Marianne said softly, but she also finished her drink and handed the empty glass to her sister-in-law to refill as she took Clarissa’s hands. “I thinkanyonewould be nervous if they were told such things about what happens between a man and woman. That doesn’t sound nice at all. But it also doesn’t have to be accurate.”
Clarissa shifted. “It doesn’t?”
“No!” Esme burst out as she turned back with the full glasses. “Lord, no.”
Marianne pursed her lips at Esme. “Gracious, my dear, let’s be gentle about this.”
Esme set her glass down and held her hands up as if in surrender. “My delightful and kind and wonderful sister-in-law is far better at gentle, while I am perhaps known in our family to be more direct. I think there’s value to both. Which variety of opinion would you like first?”
“Perhaps we start with direct?” Clarissa said slowly. “After all, my mother could return to interrupt us at any moment.”
Esme looked triumphant at that and Marianne let out a little laugh. “Yes, you’ve won. Go ahead. Though I’m not sure I should listen, as you are married to my brother.”
