Something she’d heard Lady Beaumont say came back to her then, something about what Lord Huntington hid under his gentlemanly manners. She’d been referring to the worst of what he hid—the cravats and blindfolds and such—but what if there was something more? What if those stiff, cold manners hid something warmer, some passionate side of himself he kept hidden away?
And if they did, how would a lady go about unleashing it?
“Miss Somerset?” Lady Tallant was studying her with narrowed eyes. “Do you care for Lord Wrexley? Are you in love with him?”
Iris felt a pang of sadness close to her heart. Love, it seemed, had very little to do with marriage. “No, but that hardly matters now. I’ve jilted a marquess. Twice. I have to find another suitor, or my sisters will suffer because of my folly.”
“And you’ve chosen Lord Wrexley.”
Lady Tallant’s voice was inflectionless, but Iris sensed she didn’t care for Lord Wrexley any more than Lord Huntington did. “He’s lively and charming, but I confess it’s more a case of Lord Wrexley choosing me. Given my situation, I’m very luckysomeonehas. Only…”
She trailed off, and Lady Annabel leaned toward her, her blue eyes intent. “Only?”
Iris grabbed a pillow and pressed it to her chest. “I can’t trust myself to choose an honorable gentleman. I was mistaken about Lord Huntington, both in his character and in his affections for me. How can I be sure I won’t make the same mistake with Lord Wrexley? How can I know if he’s what he appears to be, any more than Lord Huntington was?”
Lady Annabel nodded, but she didn’t speak, and as the silence stretched, Iris began to realize she was angry. With Lord Huntington, and with her grandmother. With all of London, and with herself. “It’s rather unfair, isn’t it? Instead of all that time spent practicing the pianoforte and learning to flirt a fan, why don’t they teach young ladies something useful?”
“What would you suggest?”
“Things like how to tell if a gentleman’s affection is sincere, or if he’s even a gentleman at all. Even if a lady does manage to unearth a decent one among the rakes and fortune-hunters, how can she make him fall in love with her? To be truthful, Lady Tallant, a part of me understands why Lord Huntington would prefer Lady Beaumont to me.”
“Ah, so Lady Beaumont is Lord Huntington’s mistress?”
“Not anymore, but yes, she was, and I’m not a match for her, am I? No respectable young lady is a match for a courtesan, or a gentleman’s mistress. I can’t compete with Lady Beaumont, or anyone like her when it comes to the…well, that business with the silk scarves.”
Iris glanced at Lady Tallant from the corner of her eye, but if her ladyship was shocked about the silk scarves, she hid it well.
“Yes, you said something about that before—silk scarves and blindfolds, I believe? Perhaps you should explain what you mean.”
“Well, it seems Lord Huntington enjoys…” Iris could feel the heat rising in her face, but if a lady couldn’t discuss silk scarves and blindfolds with a wicked widow, who could she discuss it with? “Blindfolds, and, ah…scarves and cravats and the like, for, um…binding.”
“Ah. I see.”
Iris waited, breath held, for Lady Tallant to ask her to explain how she could possibly know such a thing about Lord Huntington, but her ladyship only assessed Iris with a clinical eye. “That’s why you jilted him, then? Because you were disgusted by it?”
Iris hesitated, but again, she had a wicked widow at her disposal. If she didn’t confess the truth to Lady Tallant, she’d never confess it to anyone. “No. I should have been, but I wasn’t. Only…curious.”
There was a long silence, and before it was over Iris had squeezed her eyes shut, overcome with mortification. Oh,whyhad she been so forthcoming? Now Lady Tallant would feel compelled to tell Charlotte, and, dear God, if it should get back to her grandmother—
“May I call you Iris, Miss Somerset?”
Iris’s eyes flew open. “I—yes, of course you may.”
“And you must call me Annabel. Now, Iris, you’ve asked several astute questions—questions most young ladies never think to ask—and I believe you deserve some answers. I’m willing to provide them, if you like.”
Iris stared dumbly at Lady Tallant for a moment, certain she’d misheard her, but as the words sunk in, she clapped her hands together, overwhelmed with relief. “Why, that would be wonderful! How kind you are, my lady!”
Lady Tallant brushed off the thanks with a wave of her hand. “I’m not kind, Iris, only ready to expire from boredom. I find country house parties tedious, and do this only for my own amusement.”
Iris didn’t care a whit about that. The offer was the important thing, not the motivation behind it. “May we start with garden seductions, my lady? I’m hopeless at them, and I’d rather not repeat the mortifying experience I had with Lord Huntington with Lord Wrexley.”
Lady Tallant held up her hand with a laugh. “Perhaps we’d better work our way up to seductions. There are several books I’d like you to read first. Reading is not, of course, a substitute for experience, but it’s a start.”
“Books?” That sounded dull.
“These are special books—not like anything you’ve ever read before. I think you’ll find them quite enlightening. Here, find me a pen and paper, and I’ll write down the titles.”
Iris fetched the supplies from her writing box, and Lady Tallant scribbled a few lines on a piece of paper, folded it, and handed it to her. “Here. If you can’t find any of these, I have other titles, but I daresay you’ll find one or more of them in the Hadley House library. Once you’ve finished them, come and see me.”
