“But what is everyone afraid of?” asked Imogene. “This is what I’d like to know. So what if I cannot properly ‘guard my innocence’? What if I find it a great, bloody burden and I’m ready to be rid of it? Where’s the harm in this? How can my lack of innocence result in such... doom?Total ruination?Spare me, please.”
“Honestly?” sighed Drew, “I cannot say. I believe the suggestion is that ultimately, men have very little controlover their . . . desire, and if females cannot be relied upon to keep away from them, then—?”
“Then what?”
“They will run amok and society will collapse?” ventured Drew weakly. She’d never really given it a great deal of thought. No man had ever wished to steal away with her, and her lack of desirability was not her favorite topic on which to dwell.
Imogene was laughing bitterly now. “Society will collapse?” She tipped over sideways, laughing. Ivy looked on with bewilderment.
“Consider this,” said Drew, patting Ivy’s knee. “Independent of societal collapse—which I agree, does sound ridiculous—the threat of pregnancy is very real, if you areactually, er, intimate with a man. The rules against unchaperoned time with men are intended to stave this off. It’s one thing to be ruined, it’s quite another to be unwed with a baby on the way. This makes not just one life very challenging, but two.
“However, before we get carried away with talk of unwanted babies,” said Drew, “let me raise the topic of unwanted husbands. Do you fancy yourself married right away, Imogene? This month? To a stranger?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve mentioned that the London Season is a way to match up with a future husband. So, looking forward, let us say for the sake of argument that you happen to be very popular this Season. It’s a real possibility, I assure you. And if, during the Season, a man takes a fancy to you, and you to him,and you follow all of the rules—after that, the two of you will enter into a proper courtship. If you continue to suit, he will ask your uncle for your hand in marriage. When Lachlan agrees, you will be betrothed. After that, possibly even ayearinto the future, you will be married.
“However, if you are discovered alone with a man—any man, even thisHarold—and if he possesses even a modicum of honor, the two of you will be forced to marry. Immediately. Whether you’re suited or not. There’ll be no courtship. No planning of a lovely wedding. Your reputation will be saved only if you hie away to a conveniently discreet vicar and become immediate husband and wife. The only alternative to saving your honor would be pistols at dawn with your uncle.”
To this, Imogene said nothing. She shook her head and glared out the window. Ivy made a small sound of distress and wrung her hands.
“Would you be amenable to marrying Harold, Imogene?” Drew pressed. “Are you aware, even, of his family name? Because if I’d not kept your uncle at bay, if I’d not extracted you from the street myself—and if we’d not been exceedingly lucky that the street was empty—Harold Family-Name-Unknown would be well on his way to becoming your husband.”
“You cannot force me,” she said.
“Yes. Perhaps we could not. But we would beg you. Because if word got out, you would have no other options and it would be necessary to shield Ivy. Because her reputation would be tainted by association.”
“Well, that makes even less sense!” said Imogene, whirling from the window. “Who would ever suspectIvyof kissing anyone?”
“I’ve not said it makes sense, Imogene,” said Drew quietly, “only that it is.”
They rode on in strained silence for two blocks, Drew allowing her words to take root.
“I’m only trying to protect you, Imogene,” Drew finally said, her voice soft. “Can you tell me that you understand? Can you tell me that you will be mindful of your reputation and what it means?”
“You think I’m a strumpet,” Imogene shot back. “You’ve pretended to be an ally when really you’re no better than the cruel overlords at T.O.E.”
Drew paused a beat before she responded, taking a moment to comprehend all this accusation inferred.
“I do not think you’re a strumpet,” Drew finally said. “I’ll make no judgment on your innocence, and, in fact, my only stake here is that we maintain it.If you wish to live the life into which you’ve been born.That life means eventual marriage to a gentleman. Acceptance into polite society. Etcetera, etcetera. We can argue the merits of this rule until kingdom come, but in the meantime, we’ll need to be realistic about how the world works.”
It was a bold statement indeed. The widely held view was that innocence was eternally linked to purity, good judgment, and restraint,notrealism. However, Drew was realistic above all else. No spinster-y woman with orange hair and six inches on most other girls could survive without practicality, first and foremost.
As to the Temple of Order in Eden, she would be remiss in not acknowledging the accusation.
“Furthermore,” Drew said, “I should be happy to listen if ever you girls are ready to discuss your life in the... er, T.O.E. community, but please do not align me with your ‘cruel overlords’ unless you can cite specific examples.”
“You want specifics,” spat Imogene. “How about this? Now, we all know why you’re not married, don’t we? You were ruined bysome man, and no other man would have you.”
“Wrong again, Imogene,” said Drew tiredly. “If my reputation had been jeopardized, I would not be allowed to work with young ladies. Women who are considered ‘ruined’ cannot find honest work even as a clerk in a shop, let alone with impressionable debutantes.”
Imogene made a scoffing noise. “You’ve probably never even fancied a boy. You’ve not had the opportunity to be ‘ruined.’ You’re setting out this rule, and you don’t even know what it means.”
“Also untrue,” Drew said. “I did fancy a young man, once upon a time. I fancied him very much, indeed. He was a sergeant in the Royal Marines, a very fine man, aperfect gentleman. Never once did he impose any impropriety on me.”
“Well, then I feel sorry for you,” said Imogene. “Andfor the good sergeant. Because kissing is lovely. I rate it very highly, indeed. It is one my favorite things to do. And perhaps if you’d allowed him to steal a kiss, then we would not be speaking of him in the past tense. Perhaps you would still be sweethearts.”
“We are not sweethearts,” corrected Drew, her throat suddenly thick, “because my mother spoke to an acquaintance at the War Office and arranged for his immediate posting to India.”
