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“I see. And you want me to tell you if those activities should escalate. If you should surrender your maidenhood.”

“Well, not tell me, exactly, but … advise me.” She was making a mull of this. “Not that I am implying that you have personal experience in these matters, of course. I merely regard you as a lady wise to the ways of society, a lady who might help me think through the … consequences.”

“Oh, I have personal experience in these matters.” Olive studied Diantha. “You are scandalized.”

“Not scandalized, just …”

“You are right to consider the consequences, for there will be some. Ideally none that arrive nine months later. But there are ways to prevent that. The other potential consequence is, of course, being found out. Ruination.” She paused. “I am assuming we are speaking about the possibility of your giving away your maidenhood outside the context of marriage, yes?”

“Yes.” It was almost comical that while Diantha had initially proposed the appearance of ruination without actual ruination, she was now seeking advice about actual ruination without the appearance of such. “I am certain, however, that the gentleman in question would be discreet. No one will know. It’s more …”

“That you will know. You want to know how you will feel.”

“Yes,” Diantha said quietly.

“I understand. I have done things I ought to be ashamed of.”

“But are you?” That was what she was truly asking, wasn’t it?

“Not … precisely.”

“Yes, I thought the word ‘ought’ was doing a lot of work in that sentence.”

Olive chuckled. “I was not ashamed. I am not ashamed. It’s more that from this vantage point—the actions in question occurred many years ago now—I worry that my past might … catch up with me.”

“Meaning it might disqualify you from marriage? A family?”

“Yes. I didn’t used to be worried about such things. You see, the reason I am not ashamed of my actions is that they weren’t undertaken with any old gentleman.” She took a large slurp of her “tea.” “I was wildly in love with my gentleman. But he died.”

“Oh, I am sorry.” Diantha tried to imbue the statement of condolence with the same sincerity that had characterized Olive’s earlier.

“He was my secret lover, though we did plan to marry. But then he went to Upper Canada, of all places, and he died. I shall tell you everything after extracting a vow of secrecy—we will be bound in an agreement of mutually assured destruction—but let us consider your circumstances first. If you’re worried anything you do today might disqualify you from marrying in the future, I believe that’s a reasonable fear. I used to think I didn’t care if my past disqualified me, as you say, because I was determined I should never find another love like the one I had. And I shan’t.” She took another sip. “But time has done its work, dulling the edges of my grief such that I sometimes imagine that perhaps I could have a family, find a companion.” She smirked. “If not for the disqualifying part.”

“My apologies if this sounds indelicate, but if you were to find such a companion, a prospect, so to speak, would you have to tell him about your past? You are from a good family. You are liked and admired. Why would he ever need to know?”

“Because I shouldn’t want to start a partnership on a lie. Because the kind of man I would want to spend my life with wouldn’t be the kind of man to whom I could countenance lying.”

Goodness. Olive Morgan had hidden depths.

“Well, I don’t need to worry about that,” Diantha said. “I don’t plan to marry.”

Olive smirked. “I have heard that a fair few times of late, but all right. That’s one thing you needn’t worry about, then.”

It amazed Diantha that there was going to be no further discussion on the matter, that Olive was going to take Diantha’s statement that she didn’t plan to marry at face value.

“Who is the gentleman in question?” Olive asked.

“I can’t say.”

“Is it Simon?”

All Diantha could do was blink—and panic.

“Do not look so shocked, my dear. It’s perfectly obvious.”

“It is?” Diantha was dismayed. Truly dismayed.

“Well, it is now that you’ve told me you’ve been kissing and in a state of undress with a man. Who else is it going to be?”