Chapter 7
S imon stood before his house, staring up at its four storeys of dark brick, windows glinting in the sunlight, as if they were winking at him to beckon him inside.
A ludicrous thought, but one he had in the hopes that some part of the house welcomed him, as he knew its only resident did not.
He should not even be here considering what had happened last night, but there was nothing to be done for it. He had stormed off to the club with no change of clothes, and it was not as if he could simply send a note to his valet to bring him a change of clothes.
Well, yes, he could do just that, but the truth was that he needed an escape from the club.
As a full-time resident this last month, he had become familiar with the other regular residents and they offered a bleak look into his future. Unhappy noblemen who had been forced into undesirable marriages and were doing their best to avoid their homes and their wives.
How ironic he was not more comfortable among them since he had much in common with them. Although, unlike those men, while his marriage had been forced, it was not undesirable.
On the contrary, there was plenty of desire, and that was the problem.
He had been a fool last night. He never should have gone into the house with Hannah. He should have dropped her off and then gone directly to the club. But manners dictated he escort Hannah inside and he would not disrespect her before the servants.
Not that she adhered to any rules of etiquette. She had no compunction with speaking her mind, nor storming into rooms to confront him when his tongue was loosened by drink.
He had spoken to her in such an indecent way with the intent of sending her fleeing from him. She was a gently bred lady. His obscene words would surely send her into a swoon so he might escape her.
Or so he thought.
Instead, his words had ignited passion within her. Just as she spoke her mind, she was honest with her desires. Twice now, she had been the one to kiss him and twice now he had stood there in shock at the taste of her.
So sweet and warm and everything he had always wanted. She overwhelmed him and made him forget everything else when he had her in his arms. At least until his muddled mind had the sober realization that she was only using him.
As with their first kiss, Hannah was confident enough for him to know he was not the first man she had kissed. Pleasure was familiar to Hannah—taught to her by John, no doubt. She was using him, likely imagining it was her dead fiancé who touched her so she might experience guilt-free pleasure after all these years.
After all, Simon was her husband. There was no shame in a wife seeking pleasure from her husband, even if she imagined he was someone else.
His passion had been snuffed out as if ice water had been thrown on him, his anger once again returning to remind him what Hannah truly thought of him.
He had fled the house and promised himself he would not return to her again, yet he had not even lasted half a day.
At least his return was not because of her. He was here simply because of his wrinkled coat and trousers were not tolerable daytime wear.
Or so he told himself.
Nonsense! This is a practical visit and nothing more!
He would make his way straight upstairs to his dressing room, no lingering on any of the floors, and he certainly would not ask any servant where Mrs. Langley was.
“Welcome home, Mr. Langley,” Bailey greeted him.
“Might you tell me where Mrs. Langley is, Bailey?”
So much for promises to myself.
“She is in the drawing room, sir.” Simon stepped away, but Bailey cleared his throat to get his attention. “She is writing to Lord Talbot to inform him of the travel arrangements she has made.”
“Travel arrangements?” Simon repeated. “To where?”
“Cosburn Park, sir,” Bailey told him. “She has requested all her belongings be packed for the journey.”
Hannah was leaving him. He had finally pushed her far enough that permanent separation from him was her only option.
Perhaps this was better. Living separate lives would be easier for them both. She could continue to mourn John and he could get over his feelings for her.
He would leave Hannah to her letter writing and continue on to his dressing room. He would change while she made her arrangements, returning to the club as she ensured the maids packed all her belongings. By the time he once again returned to the house, she would be gone and they would both be the better for it.
Yes, separate lives were for the best. He would leave her in peace.
He entered the drawing room to find Hannah at the writing desk. “I’ve been told you are moving to Cosburn Park.”
So much for only going to your dressing room.
Hannah glanced up at him and then went back to her writing. “I am. I cannot stay here any longer.”
“Because of what happened last night,” Simon said.
“Because of every moment since we married,” she said with a sad shake of her head. “I have done enough to ruin your life. I do not want to force you into the company of someone you hate.”
Her voice wavered on the last words, although he heard her fight to keep it steady. She picked up her letter, intently concentrating on waving it to dry the ink.
A defensive act to hide what she was feeling, as he could see the tears shining in the corner of her eyes.
“I do not hate you, Hannah.”
She laughed, a shaky, watery sound, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.
“Yet your every word and action contradict such a claim. It may have been years ago, but I do remember how you treated me when we were friends, Simon. The difference is obvious. You hate me now. As much as you do not want to be in my company, I do not want to be in the company of someone who hates me.”
He was not the only one hurt by their forced marriage. Hannah might be at fault for the marriage, but it did not mean she was left unaffected by it.
“I do not hate you,” he repeated, “And I apologize for making you believe I did. You do not need to leave the house. Stay.”
She shook her head, refusing to look at him. “I cannot abide being alone in this house. Nothing to do. No one to talk to. I do not want to live this lonely life. If you are worried about my broken plans with Lady Rothsay, do not be. I will tell her that I am leaving because I long for country life. You will not be embarrassed in front of your friends.”
She sniffled delicately, a soft sound, yet it tore through Simon more viciously than any scream. Even as children, long before he fell in love with her, Hannah’s tears always pained him. He knew it was within his power to dry them.
He was weary of the endless cycle of fury. As weary as Hannah was of the loneliness. Wrongs had been done, but they had both been punished enough. Their lives were bound together and anger would not alter that.
It was time to put it aside and move on as best they could.
“I do not want you to stay for appearances, Hannah. I want you to stay because this is your home. It is where you belong. Enough has happened to hurt us both. It is time we move on to a new chapter. In fact, we should rewrite the book from the beginning.”
Glittering sapphire eyes finally turned to him. “What do you mean?”
“Let us begin again. Forget everything that has come before and start fresh with one another.”
“Forget everything since our marriage or forget everything back to before our first acquaintance?”
Her teasing tone was reassuringly familiar and very much welcome.
“The marriage,” he replied. “I would not want to forget our first acquaintance. It is one of my most favourite memories. You snuck me a plate of biscuits from the kitchen to welcome me to Cosburn Park.”
She smiled with fondness at the memory. “I remember. I watched you climb out of the carriage with your sisters. You looked so very sad. I was desperate to make you smile.”
And she had. The biscuits had been delicious, and she had told him and his sisters about all the wonderful fun she intended for them to have together at Cosburn Park.
Even as a child, she wanted everyone to be happy because she was a generous soul.
She had told them that she understood what it was like to lose a parent and if they ever needed to cry, they could do so with her. He knew now she was wise beyond her years, but as a young boy with a young boy’s pride, he had insisted he never cried as only silly girls and babies cried.
That night in the Cosburn Park nursery, so strange and new, he could not hold back his tears. He tried his best to cry into his pillow, but his sobs had carried. He only realized it when a tiny hand took hold of his own. He had looked up to find Hannah sitting on his cot. She had held his hand as he cried, offering him comfort in the dark nursery. She never said a single word about silly boys crying the next day, only insisting he let her show him the gardens where they could play.
Despite her mistakes, he knew that at her core, Hannah was a good person. And with that realization, the last of his anger faded away.
“You did make me smile. You were always good at that.”
She made a harrumphing sound. “Not as much recently.”
“Perhaps I was a bit too harsh on you,” he conceded.
“No,” she replied emphatically. “You were right to call me out. I was selfish, and I did not consider you. I was hasty and did not think through the consequences. My impulsivity is a flaw that I need to work on. I can only apologize that you ended up a victim of it more than once. Last night in the drawing room, the kiss, I—”
“You do not need to explain. It is all forgotten.”
He had no desire to hear a polite excuse meant to assuage his feelings. She had been caught up in the volatile emotions of their quarrel and the lewd nature of his words had muddled her mind.
It was no wonder she had indulged in a kiss. It had been a trifle for her, nothing more. That their kiss had once again shattered his world was of no matter. It was time to forget those feelings.
“We shall consider today the first day of our marriage,” he said. “Everything that has happened before is to be forgotten.”
The light of excitement flared back to life in her sapphire eyes, mirroring the dazzling smile that illuminated her face with a joyful glow.
“I would like that very much, Simon.”
This was for the best. Everything that came before today would be forgotten. Not only would it finally bury any further animosity between them, they could forget his lustful confessions and her kissing him for her own gains.
They would move forward, living together as friendly companions with nothing more between them than platonic affection.
He glanced at the clock on the mantle. “It is the appropriate time for a visit to Hyde Park. Would you care to accompany me?”
“I would,” she agreed, but then frowned. “Though I will have to change. And I best tell Mrs. Chapman to have the maids stop packing. Oh, she will be perturbed to find out I’ve wasted all her effort. She will believe I am quite mad.”
“Not mad, only fickle. As ladies are wont to do.”
She raised an eyebrow. “As if men are not just as fickle.”
He grinned. “Perhaps. Now let us change and then we shall enjoy a promenade in the Park.”
Now, this felt right. Anger blinded him to the fact that, above his misguided love for her, he greatly enjoyed Hannah’s companionship. He had missed it all those years he had stayed away from her.
It was time to truly move past his feelings and be with Hannah the only way he could.
As friends.
***
During Hannah’s truncated season, she had not had occasion to visit Hyde Park. Sarah had been concentrated on preparing her for her presentation, rather than being seen about Town. After all, Hannah already had an intended and had no need to parade about on the marriage market.
Instead, Hannah had devoted her time to practicing her curtsy and walking backwards without stumbling over the long train of her court dress. There might have been time for it after her presentation, but John had taken ill and there had been no thought of parks then.
Hannah only knew Hyde Park through Caroline’s descriptions of her visits there during her seasons. Her friend spoke enthusiastically of it, although Hannah always doubted it could live up to Caroline’s praise.
Yet as Hannah walked beneath the boughs of the large trees that shaded the path, she found it to be everything her friend had promised and more.
Despite the grey sky and the mist clinging to the Serpentine, the most dazzling and elegant people filled the Park.
Men in fashionable riding clothes sat upon their prized mounts trotting along Rotten Row, leather and silver gleaming on both man and beast. The ladies were luminous in a veritable rainbow of muslin and wool, with feathers and ribbons festooning their bonnets, twirling their painted parasols in delicately gloved hands, as if it were all a performance to entice.
The young ladies walked with their mothers, sisters, and other female acquaintances, parading before gentlemen who stood together in small groups, both sexes evaluating the other.
It was not that different than the market that would come to the village near Cosburn Park, where she would walk among the wares, deciding if any of them were worth parting with her money. Although the village market could not hold a candle to the hustle and bustle here.
Or perhaps it simply felt like the Park was a hive of activity as she and Simon could not walk very far before they were stopped. Hannah had no idea Simon was so popular. Every few feet, they were beckoned by a gentleman or lady or both, all acquainted with Simon. He introduced Hannah to all of them and they offered their congratulations on the news of their marriage.
It was a storm of names and titles that Hannah knew she would need time and practise to keep straight. And along with almost every new name came an invitation to a new event until she was certain her diary was full for the season.
Simon spoke to all of them as if they were longtime acquaintances, and she soon realized that they were. Simon had lived here in London long enough to create a whole life that was completely separate from the life he had lived at Cosburn Park.
Even after all these years, she still pictured him as the young man who had only just finished at Oxford and was about the embark on his own. He had greatly matured in the intervening years, becoming a prominent member of the ton .
She had been the one to linger on the edge of growing up, forever casting herself as the young fiancée who mourned what was never to be.
She had stayed the same while Simon had changed.
As they walked along the edge of the Serpentine, Hannah could not help but remark on it.
“You are so much different than I remember you.”
“How so?” he asked.
Hannah considered how to put the change into words. “You are more sophisticated. More mature, I suppose.”
“Well, that is because most of your memories of me are from our childhood, when I was young and unsophisticated.”
“And that is because you did not return often after school to make new memories.”
A shadow passed over his eyes. “Cosburn Park was not where I belonged. I was a grown man, and I needed to carve my own path in the world.”
And he had.
As mistress of his house, the accounts were her responsibility and having seen the amount spent running the house—not to mention her more than generous pin money—she knew that Simon had amassed himself a significant fortune.
Yes, he was a grown man now.
Strong.
Capable.
Assertive.
Attractive.
Hannah had not missed the many ladies who turned their heads towards Simon when they passed them on their promenade. She could not blame them. Her husband did cut quite an enticing figure.
His dark great coat emphasised his broad shoulders and his top hat was tipped slightly to the side, matching the corner of his mouth that would lift when he playfully smiled. He carried a walking stick, his large hand wrapped confidently around the rounded end.
The same large hand that cupped your bottom as he kissed you in the drawing room last night!
She blushed at the sudden intrusion of the memory. How odd that memories could strike with such force and without provocation.
No, that was not true. It was not entirely unprovoked. She had just been fantasizing about his powerful hands.
I want to take you in all the ways I’ve dreamed of.
Her face burned as blood thrilled in her veins at the memory of Simon’s raspy declaration. Had the drink he consumed that evening caused him to say such things?
She did not believe he had consumed that much at Rothsay House, but what did she know about drinking? Or men, for that matter?
Her governess once lectured her on her responsibility as a decent young lady to perish rather than find herself alone with a man unrelated to her. Miss Ulster had told her how men were lustful creatures, controlled by their base urges, and could not be trusted to maintain decorum when alone with a lady.
She had never believed Miss Ulster’s dire warnings, mostly because she could never imagine the men she knew as lustful creatures. John had never coerced her into anything, only offering heated kisses and gentle petting that had been sensual and romantic.
Then there had been Simon, an unrelated man who had always been a proper gentleman to everyone.
How ironic that Simon was the man who showed her that Miss Ulster was absolutely correct in her warning. Now she was keenly aware of how lustful a man could be.
Thankfully, Hannah was distracted from her own lustful thoughts by the approach of a middle-aged lady with a toothy smile, dressed in a stunning green and purple plaid walking dress. Its gigot sleeves rivaled a carriage in width, the cuffs trimmed with delicate white lace. Her bonnet was adorned with purple flowers and green braiding lined the brim.
Next to her was a lady of a similar age. Her fashion was more subdued, but still quite de rigueur . Her dress was a white print with pink roses and green vines swirling over the skirt and bodice. The lace ruffles at the neck and the pelerine trimmed in satin rosebuds matched the lace trim and nest of rosebuds on the brim of her bonnet.
Both ladies were beautiful and made Hannah feel quite frumpy and unfashionable in her simple white walking dress and matching cap. She had never given much consideration to her wardrobe, especially as until a year ago, she had worn mourning clothes, but perhaps it was time to consider updating her wardrobe.
“Lady Aston-Neville. Lady Listowel. Lovely to see you today,” Simon said with a bow to both the ladies.
“Mr. Langley. Always a pleasure,” the lady in plaid said, although her curious gaze remained fixed on Hannah. “How lovely to see you with a companion.”
“Lady Aston-Neville. Lady Listowel. Allow me to introduce you to Mrs. Simon Langley, my wife.”
“My most happy congratulations,” the lady with the rose buds said. “I didn’t know you’d gotten married, Mr. Langley. Did you, Lady Aston-Neville?”
“I did not,” she replied and turned her attention back to Hannah. “Why Mrs. Langley, how lucky you are. Mr. Langley has been considered one of the most eligible bachelors for sometime now. We thought no woman could persuade him to marry.”
“Indeed,” Lady Listowel said. “You must tell us what magic you used to ensnare him, as he has never so much as called on any lady before.”
Hannah blanched at the question, but thankfully Simon chuckled, ready to take the attention from her.
“I am afraid there was no magic, Lady Listowel. My eldest sister married her widowed father years ago. We have known one another since we were young, so it all came about quite naturally, of course.”
“Ah, how lovely. There is something heartwarming about childhood infatuations turning into proper romances,” Lady Aston-Neville said on a sigh. “Tell me, Mrs. Langley, did he dote on you when you were younger or was he one of the boys who teases the one he loves?”
“Mr. Langley has always been nothing but kind since the moment I met him,” she replied. “I do not believe he can be anything but kind.”
It was true. Even when he was at his angriest with her, Simon had never been unkind to her.
Lady Listowel twittered in delight at her answer, while Lady Aston-Neville smirked at Simon. “I now understand why you avoided courting anyone, Mr. Langley. There was no need with such a lovely lady waiting for you. Although it is a disappointment you never attended the season before now, Mrs. Langley.”
“I did, years ago. Then I lost my betrothed, and I went into mourning,” Hannah explained, and the ladies frowned.
“You were betrothed before Mr. Langley?” Lady Listowel asked.
“Yes, to Mr. John Barlow, son of the Viscount Carrick. He died not long after we announced our engagement.”
“Oh, how sad,” Lady Aston-Neville said. “I am sorry for your loss. Although now you are on to happier times with Mr. Langley.”
Simon smiled tightly and Hannah realized she had made a mess of his story of how they had married. A previous engagement caused issues with the story of a childhood infatuation becoming an adult romance.
“On to happier times indeed, Lady Aston-Neville,” Hannah replied to smooth out the situation.
“I shall have to amend the invitation to my masquerade ball,” Lady Aston-Neville said. “I do apologize if you have received the invitation without your name, Mrs. Langley. I did not know when I sent them out. I shall send a new one with your name the moment I return home today.”
“Her masquerades are always a highlight of the season,” Lady Listowel told her. “You will both attend, won’t you?”
Hannah looked to Simon, who still held that tight smile, and she hesitated to ask him if they would. Their peace was so new and she was worried what might set him off.
“We would be happy to attend, of course,” Simon replied, much to Hannah’s relief.
“Excellent. We shall speak further then,” Lady Aston-Neville said before looking over Simon’s shoulders and narrowing her gaze. “If you will excuse me, I see Lady Brandon and I must speak with her.”
“Of course,” Simon bowed. “Lovely to see both of you.”
“A pleasure to meet you both,” Hannah said, and the ladies departed, leaving her and Simon to continue on their promenade.
“I apologize that I made a mess of the story you gave about how we came to marry,” she said when the ladies were out of earshot. “I was not thinking when I spoke of John.”
“No need to apologize,” Simon said. “I would never ask you to pretend John was not part of your life. The story of our marriage is that we have always known one another, and it seemed practical to marry. Simple and close to the truth, which makes it easier to remember.”
True, although, the story seemed quite sad.
Or it simply lacked any romance, and she had always preferred stories with romance.
A sense of melancholy settled over her, and the shine of the Park began to fade away. The dresses were no longer so bright, the buckles and buttons no longer gleaming. The damp air was now cloying on her skin and the unpleasant odour coming off the water was somehow thicker in the air.
“Should we continue on to Gunter’s ?” Simon asked. “I would not mind an ice.”
He offered her a smile—a genuine, bright smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes—a welcome sight after so much time without it. It chased away the lingering melancholy, replacing it with a comforting warmth that spread through her like sunshine.
“That would be lovely.”
After his anger towards her, this was a most welcome change. No matter what else happened between them, at the least she had her childhood friend back again.
***
The boudoir, with its rose-patterned wallpaper and over-stuffed and thickly upholstered furniture, was Hannah’s favourite room in the house. Sunlight streamed through three sash windows overlooking the square, illuminating the writing desk next to them where she sat.
She had become fascinated with watching city life. The streets bustled with activity, from morning post deliveries and carriages arriving for calling hours to evening lamp lighting and the arrival of patrons at the Assembly Rooms. There was life in the city at all hours and she had easily fallen in love with it.
Her sadness during her first weeks here stopped her from appreciating it all, but now that she was happy, she was seeing the city to its best advantage.
Or rather, Simon was showing her the city to its best advantage.
He had taken her to the National Gallery, where she delighted in the beautiful artwork on display, although the building proved rather stuffy in her opinion. She looked forward to visiting the Gallery’s new building in Trafalgar Square, no matter what others thought of its design.
They had spent an entire day at the British Museum and she still could not decide if her favourite part had been seeing the towering stuffed giraffes that stood guard at the top of the grand staircase or setting her own eyes on the ancient Rosetta Stone, a true piece of history.
Though the Gallery and Museum should be what she enjoyed most, they were nothing compared to their nights at the theatre. She had watched everything from Hamlet performed by supremely talented actors to farces and pantomimes acted out by men and women simply looking to make a few coins that night.
Touring companies had performed in the assembly hall near Cosburn Park and she had always enjoyed them as much as any other diversion, but there was something sensational about seeing a production in a properly built theatre with all its lighting and effects.
The theatre had become her preferred outing, and now she sat in the boudoir, penning a letter to Sarah about the performance they had attended last night. Hannah laughed to herself as she quoted Simon’s critique of the performance of Andre — Not even a nursery story could be more absurd than that plot! —and she hoped her happiness came through the letter. She wondered if Sarah would notice the change in tone from those melancholy letters she had penned during her first days in London.
She hoped so. Sarah’s letters to her had been filled with repeated affirmations that Hannah should do whatever she could to find happiness in her life. Her stepmother worried for her, but she could rest easy. Now that Hannah and Simon were friends again, things were much improved.
It was almost like it was when they were children at Cosburn Park.
Almost.
Unlike back then, there was now an undercurrent between her and Simon that prevented them from truly reigniting their childhood friendship. Hannah supposed it could no longer be as innocent as it once was when they had shared a kiss.
Or two.
And a scandalous embrace.
Along with Simon’s wicked words—the ones that still made Hannah’s breath catch in her throat and heat bloom in her face.
No, it would not do to think of such things. It had happened during the tumultuous time in their marriage, when anger and resentment confused their good sense. Heightened emotions led to heightened passions, that was all.
Now she and Simon were on an even keel, and she was grateful to have her friend back. She would not trade that for all the passion in the world.
Tonight he would escort her to Lady Aston-Neville’s masquerade, and Hannah had already zealously detailed the peacock mask she would wear in her letter to Sarah.
“Pardon me, madam, but you have a caller. Miss Caroline Barlow.”
Hannah could not hold back a squeal of excitement, although the butler did not bat an eye.
“Oh, do show her in, Bailey. And a tea service with Mrs. Callahan’s lemon cake would be lovely.”
Bailey was off to fulfill her requests with a quick bow and Hannah impatiently paced the boudoir, unable to sit still as she waited on her friend.
To think she was welcoming Caroline into her own home, where they would have tea together in her own boudoir!
Ever since they were little girls, they had envisioned the moment when they would be mistress of their own homes. They would pour tea with a sophistication hitherto unknown to them before delicately nibbling on slices of cake with nary a crumb spilled, speaking of the many duties they now must carry out as married ladies.
Reality shattered the sophisticated fantasy when Bailey escorted Caroline into the room and Hannah let out another squeal of delight as she bolted across the room to embrace her friend.
“Oh Caroline, I am over the moon that you are finally here!”
“I have missed you so, Hannah! It has been too long!”
A footman set the tea service on the mahogany table before the plush settee, and the ladies soon settled into its inviting comfort. The tea was poured a little haphazardly as Hannah admired the gardenia print on Caroline’s pale blue dress and crumbs scattered on the table as they selected their slices of lemon cake, but it was still every bit as marvellous as they envisioned.
“You must tell me everything that has happened at home since I left,” Hannah said.
“I will not, as I know nothing interesting has happened compared to you, silly,” Caroline said. “ You must tell me everything about married life. You are all smiles today, but the letters you wrote me when you arrived here were…different.”
Hannah sighed. “Yes, I suppose they were. I was different then. I will not pretend that it was easy when we first arrived. Simon was still furious with me. It took time for us to resolve the matter of my compromising him.”
Caroline laughed and then gave her an apologetic smile. “I do not laugh at your trials. It is only…the idea of a lady compromising a gentleman. Even you have to admit, it is slightly amusing.”
“Thankfully, it has been long enough that I can now find some humour in it. Nevertheless, there were difficulties in the beginning. However, we have come to a détente and things are much improved. In fact, before you arrived, I was writing to Sarah about how much I am enjoying London.”
“Ah, so it is Town you enjoy then and not your husband,” Caroline said with a disappointed sigh.
“Not at all. I am also enjoying Simon’s company. We are friends once again and for that, I am grateful.”
“Friends?” Caroline looked around to be certain the servants were gone from the room and yet still leaned forward to whisper to her. “But you are husband and wife. Have you not…consummated the marriage?”
Hannah blushed furiously at the question, instantly taken back again to that night in the drawing room and Simon’s confession of his desire to consummate. “We have not.”
Caroline frowned. “Strange. I once overheard one of Mama’s married friends remark that men always made their wives accept them in their beds, even if they kept mistresses. She said men take what is owed to them. She made it sound like men were incapable of not forcing themselves on their wives.”
Caroline made it all sound quite unpleasant, but when Hannah recalled Simon’s raspy voice telling her all the things he wanted to do to her, only pleasant warmth curled through her.
“I do not know about other men, but Simon is not like that,” Hannah said. “He has restrained himself in order to preserve our friendship.”
“Restrained himself?” Caroline asked with quite a bit of interest. “You mean he has asked to share your bed, but you refused him?”
Her cheeks flushed crimson, burning with embarrassment, but she wanted to tell her friend what had happened, if only to have someone to discuss the matter with.
“Not quite. We have kissed, but it was when we were angry at one another.”
Caroline hummed with interest. “Mama whispered to her friend once about anger being an aphrodisiac. Is it true?”
“You think me much more experienced in this than I am,” Hannah laughed in embarrassment. “The truth is that we only recently made peace over the matter of how our marriage came to be. We have been slowly working our way to being friends again. He has been showing me the amusements to be found in London. I feel transformed. I had no idea what I had been missing.”
Caroline grinned. “I am delighted to know you have finally discovered the magic of Town. Have you been to the theatre?”
“Every night.”
“It is nothing compared to the provincial troupes, is it not?” Hannah nodded in agreement. “And with the season now beginning, there will be even more entertainment. Are you attending the Aston-Neville masquerade tonight?”
Hannah nodded. “I am quite looking forward to it. It will be the first proper ball we will attend. Simon and I dined with Lord and Lady Rothsay, but otherwise, we have not attended any social gatherings.”
“I admit I am interested in seeing how you behave together now that you are husband and wife,” Caroline told her. “I always suspected Simon might be a bit besotted with you.”
Hannah thought of the fantasies he had recited to her and tried her best not to blush. She failed miserably, so instead she picked up the cake, stuffing it in her mouth and scattering more crumbs.
“Have you caught a glimpse of him in the altogether?” Caroline asked as Hannah was swallowing and the cake caught in her throat, sending her into a coughing fit.
Caroline sighed, patting her on the back until Hannah could breathe again.
“I apologize for my inappropriate questions,” Caroline said when Hannah finally caught her breath. “It is only that my parents are expecting me to marry this season. With marriage on the horizon, I have become preoccupied with the physical aspect of the union. I had been hoping you could explain it all in detail to me, as Mama will say nothing about it.”
She had sympathy for her friend and wished she could offer the proper experience of a married woman. At least she was able to assure her on one part of the physical aspect.
“I can tell you that kissing can be quite pleasant.”
Indeed, the memory of Simon’s kiss lingered, so sweet she nearly touched her lips, catching herself and lifting her teacup to them instead.
“Are you not curious about what else happens?” Caroline asked.
Hannah considered the question. Yes, there was some curiosity, especially when she considered what Simon had said he wanted to do to her. She understood some of it, but other parts were unknown, which, of course, made her curious.
Yet knowing how Simon had reacted when she had told him he made her feel good, she knew she would never seek him out to slake her curiosity.
“Perhaps a little,” Hannah admitted, “But I am so relieved that Simon no longer hates me, I am not prepared to risk our new friendship for carnal pleasure.”
Caroline eyed her dubiously. “Carnal pleasure sounds much better than friendship.”
Hannah laughed heartily before snorting indelicately, which sent Caroline into her own fit of giggles with her. The sound was full of sweet nostalgia, old memories of the silly antics she and Caroline had always enjoyed coming to the surface. Married or not, they would always be the same silly girls they had always been.
“Enough talk about wicked things,” Hannah said. “You must tell me what you will wear to the masquerade so I might find you in the crowd tonight.”