Clare arched a brow. “If Maxwell was the only one telling you anything about it, no wonder you’re ill-informed. Tell me. What exactly did he say?”
Meredith couldn’t breathe. The words she managed came out in small bursts. “He told me…it was my fault…that he…” She glanced away, struggling to calm her breath.
“Your fault that what?” Suspicion glimmered in Clare’s dark eyes.
Meredith swallowed. Clare was her close friend, but it was still humiliating to say these things. “That he couldn’t…”
Clare nodded. “He didn’t always—ahem—penetrate—did he?”
Meredith closed her eyes again. If one could die from humiliation, surely she’d have perished by now. “He would scream at me,” she finally admitted. “Tell me it was my fault that he couldn’t become…”
“Erect?” Clare supplied helpfully. Thank God for Clare, honestly.
Meredith nodded miserably.
“He used the word ‘excited.’”
Clare took a deep breath and nodded too. “Go on.”
Meredith squeezed her friend’s hands. “One night, after he yelled at me, he ordered me to leave. I went to his estate in the country. I never returned. I was happier after that, away from him. He never tried to mount me again.”
“I’m sorry,” Clare said. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Meredith. And I suppose my scandal has left me without abitof modesty. But…if he was not inside of you?—”
Meredith gasped. “Oh, God. I thought Griffin and I made love three times, but the third time…the act was quitedifferent. I assumed it was because IwantedGriffin and because he’s a young, strong man.”
“Listen to me, Meredith,” Clare said, squeezing her hands tight again. “This is quite important. If Maxwell’s manhood never hardened, if he was never inside of you, that means?—”
“That means I was still a virgin when Griffin and I…” Meredith breathed. The air whooshed from her lungs as her voice trailed off. Oh, God. Why hadn’t she realized this before now?
Clare winced. “Forgive me for asking, but…did it hurt at all when you and Southbury…?”
Meredith searched her friend’s face. “There was a pinch. It was over quickly. And then it was…wonderful.” She smiled widely.
Clare nodded. “Was thereanyblood?”
Therehadbeen blood. Meredith had found a small amount of what looked like blood on her shift that night. She’d asked her maid to see to it. Martha had never said anything about it.
“Yes,” Meredith whispered. “But not much.”
Clare pressed her lips together. “It isn’t much. It happens when your maidenhead is breached.”
Meredith pressed her fingertips to her mouth. “Oh, God. What sort of fool am I?”
“You’re not a fool, Meredith. You’re a woman who was never educated on these things. Neither was I. It’s a travesty how ignorant our families allowed us to be. I would have told you myself, only I never imagined that you and Maxwell?—”
“It’s notyourfault, Clare. My father should have seen to it that I had a proper education. That I had a woman to help me before my wedding, to answer questions, to guide me. I was all alone.”
Clare wrapped an arm around her in a hug. “And by the time your wedding took place, I’d already been banished to the country, so I was no help whatsoever.”
The two women hugged for several moments before Meredith pulled a handkerchief out of her sleeve and dried her tears. “I’ve spent my entire life being lied to by men. First my father, then Maxwell. Neither of them ever loved me. They were just using me. I was angry with Griffin for abandoning me, but now I know why he did. He loved me. He’s always loved me. Even when I pushed him away because of another man’s lies.” She clenched her fists. “The time I’ve wasted. It makes me so angry.”
“Believe me,” Clare replied, “I know all about anger…and wasted time. And I know that it’s absolutely useless to spend too much time with regret. The only thing that truly matters is today. What do you wantnow?”
Meredith slowly shook her head. “All these years…Griffin was right. Denying a thing doesn’t make it untrue.”
Clare gave her friend an encouraging smile. “You love Southbury, don’t you?”
“Madly.”
