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“You are darling, if impulsive,” Jemma said.

“That’s a nice way to put it. I think Simeon’s assessment is more harsh.”

“He’s a fool,” Jemma said, interrupting. “But darling, you’re going to have to forgive him for that sort of foolishness. It’s endemic in the gender.”

Isidore pressed her lips together. “I wouldn’t mind, but—”

“He hurt your feelings,” Jemma said.

Tears fell on Isidore’s hand. “I’ve been so stupidly foolish, Jemma, and I think I fell in love with him. But he doesn’t even like me, I mean, the kind of person I am. And I just can’t take that. I feel so hurt.”

Jemma wound an arm around her. “Quite rightly, darling. I like you and love you too, and so does every sane person in Europe.”

“Every time I want to—you know—I feel as if I’m having to seduce him. You can’t imagine what that’s like, Jemma. It’s so humiliating!” Her voice trailed into a sob.

“You mean he doesn’t approach you?”

“No. The fi-first time was because I took off my clothing in front of him.”

Jemma laughed.

“And that was your fault! You told me that men don’t—well—I can’t remember, anyway, you were absolutely right. I took off my clothes, and he couldn’t resist me but then he wasn’t happy about it afterwards.”

“He wasn’t? Are you sure?”

“Well, he was, but then he wasn’t. The second time, his brother was staying in the Dower House, so I asked Simeon to go for a walk with me.”

“And you took off your clothing again?” Jemma sounded fascinated.

“No, but I made it quite clear…I mean, I had to ask him to go for a walk!”

Jemma was tapping her lips with one finger. “Very unusual.”

“He didn’t really ever want to make love to me, but I forced his hand. And now he says that I’m impulsive and I don’t obey him. I really think he’d be happier with someone far more docile,” Isidore said. “He would. And he doesn’t—”

“Don’t tell me again that he doesn’t like you,” Jemma said hastily. “I don’t believe it for a moment. It sounds to me as if he lost his temper.”

“Oh no, Simeon never loses his temper.”

“Never?”

“Not even when workmen attacked his mother and myself. He didn’t show a bit of passion. He was absolutely calm, and he simply knocked out two of them and kicked down the third and—”

“He did?”

Isidore twisted her handkerchief. “And then he said it was all my fault because I hadn’t waited for him.”

“How very unpleasant. It sounds to me as if the duke needs to lose his temper, so that he descends from his sanctimonious heights.”

“Oh, he never will,” Isidore said dispiritedly. “Why, I expect that I could kiss another man directly in front of him, and he would just watch me in that unemotional way he has.”

“I’d like to see that,” Jemma said. And then, thoughtfully: “I truly would.”

“What?”

“See you kiss another man in front of your husband—that same husband who thinks that bedding is all a matter of the body and not the heart.”

“He’d probably just turn away. And that would—” Isidore sniffed.