Chapter 6 #2
Eleanor didn’t bother to knock, but slipped into Charlotte’s room and leaned against the door.
Her heart finally slowed and moved from her throat to her chest. Eleanor tiptoed to the side of the bed.
Her sister was sprawled under a heavy quilt, her legs pointing in opposite directions and snuffling slightly.
It made Eleanor smile. She had forgotten what a chaotic sleeper Charlotte was.
They had shared a bed until their father had moved them into the big house in the heart of the financial district in London.
Eleanor poked her in the shoulder and whispered, “Charlotte. Wake up.”
Charlotte sat bolt upright with a cry of alarm. “What on earth? Where am I?”
Eleanor clocked the fear in her sister’s voice and said soothingly, “It’s fine. You’re fine. We’re at Westhorpe’s manor. Do you remember what happened last night?”
Her sister peered myopically at Eleanor and grabbed her hand. “Are you well? I was worried about you.”
Eleanor handed Charlotte her spectacles from the side table. “I’m well enough. How are you?”
“I think…” Charlotte stared off into nothing for a long moment, but before Eleanor could question her, she added. “I’m fine. You’re the one who disappeared. I sent Callum to find you. What happened? Where did you spend the night?”
“Callum came to my rescue. I spent last night safe and warm.”
Charlotte slapped her arm. “You were an idiot to go off like you did in the snow.”
“I would have been fine to make my way back except whatever was in the punch made me feel very strange.”
“Yes. Most of the ladies—including me—imbibed. I wasn’t foxed but felt oddly euphoric and uninhibited.” She touched her temple. “I don’t seem to be suffering from any aftereffects this morning though.”
“Me either.” Eleanor bit her bottom lip. “Do you think anyone noticed I was missing all night? Could we pretend I was here with you the whole time?”
“Instead of alone with Callum all night?” One eyebrow arched over the rim of her spectacles.
“I came here to escape the whispers and being given the cut. I couldn’t bear for it to happen in Warlock.”
“Warlock is not London.” Charlotte heaved a sigh. “But it’s not Sodom and Gomorrah either. Let’s tell everyone you returned from exploring the folly late and stayed with me. It was chaos last night. No one will question your story.”
“Thank you.”
Charlotte cocked her head, her lips quirked. “Are you going to tell me what actually happened?”
“Nothing happened.” Eleanor lied glibly. Except heat burst from her chest and spread into her cheeks. She was as red and hot as an ember.
“Really?” The question dripped with disbelief.
“No, not really.” Eleanor bit her lip. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what?” Charlotte looked taken aback by the accusatory tone.
“Tell me what the marriage bed should be like.”
“Ah.” Charlotte cleared her throat and glanced around as if they could be overheard. “Am I to assume you did not enjoy your marital duties with James?”
“The fact wives refer to them as duties should be telling. But to answer your question, I did not. It was… uncomfortable.” It was so much worse than uncomfortable, but she was too embarrassed to elaborate.
Charlotte took Eleanor’s hand in hers. “I’m so sorry, dear heart. I don’t know why I assumed Grace would give you enough information to muddle through. She was of no help to me either. I should have considered… I didn’t know what to expect when I wed.”
“Was Daniel a good husband? In that way, I mean?”
Charlotte thought for a moment. “Not at first. Not because he was insensitive, but he was inexperienced. We both were. It took some time to discover what each of us liked and took pleasure in.” Even through a blush, she wore a secretive sad smile.
Eleanor’s night with Callum had parted a curtain on the depth of intimacy that could exist between a man and woman. She might not fully understand how much her sister missed her late husband, but she now had an inkling.
“How much you must miss him,” Eleanor said softly.
“I do miss him. I do.” The vehemence in Charlotte’s voice was jarring. “But it’s been two years. I’m still young.”
Was that guilt giving her sister’s words such an edge? Eleanor blinked and said in amazement, “Someone has caught your eye.”
Charlotte shushed her even though there was no one remotely in earshot. “It’s silly. Nothing has happened. Nothing of consequence anyway.”
Which meant something had happened. “Who is it?”
“It’s no one.” Charlotte’s cheeks were apple red. She cleared her throat. “Anyway, it’s you and Callum we are discussing. Which is far more interesting. Is he going to feel obliged to make an offer today?”
“An offer of marriage? I certainly hope not.” At Charlotte’s questioning gaze, Eleanor added, “I’m not even out of mourning in society’s eyes.”
“Were you careful?”
Not sure what Charlotte was asking, Eleanor said tentatively, “He was gentle with me.”
A wry smile curled Charlotte’s lips. “You might find you enjoy a bit of roughness, but that’s not what I meant. Could you be with child?”
“Oh! I… That is to say… I don’t think so?”
Charlotte gave her a sharp look. “You know how one gets with child, don’t you?”
Even as Eleanor was humiliated at her ignorance, anger simmered. “I should know how. Why are young ladies sent to marriage like lambs to the slaughter?”
Charlotte patted her knee. “Ignorance is a terrible state, isn’t it?” Then she proceeded to explain how a woman could find herself with child.
“He did not spill inside of me.” Eleanor was surprised she did not burst into flames with embarrassment.
“Thank goodness for that. It means you still have choices.”
“What choices?”
“Marriage or not. You can write your own future.”
Eleanor sat back against the headboard next to her sister. “Callum wants to court me. Properly.” For some reason she found the word distasteful.
“Is that what you want?”
It was the second time she had been asked the question. Eleanor’s mind whirled around possibilities. Life with Callum and life without. It was difficult to imagine the latter, and yet marriage seemed oppressive. “I don’t want to rush into anything.”
Charlotte burst out laughing. “Too late for that, methinks.”
Eleanor elbowed her sister but laughed right along.
“So you plan to stay in Warlock, then?”
Eleanor turned her head to regard Charlotte. “If that’s acceptable? I should have?—”
“It’s more than acceptable. I’m thrilled. I was hoping to convince you to turn your visit into permanent residence.”
“I will need something to occupy my time though.”
“You could assist me with my dressmaking venture,” Charlotte said.
“Yes, I suppose.” She said vaguely, feeling like Newton finding inspiration after being struck by an apple. “But something you said earlier has given me an idea.”
“What’s that?”
“You said I could write my own future. What if I wrote a primer? Not for teaching letters or sums to children, but to teach young ladies what to expect from marriage and the marriage bed. Knowledge is power, and power is something women seem to lack in great measure.”
After a long moment, Charlotte spoke, sounding more thoughtful than outraged. “It would be considered scandalous. You’ll need to use a nom de plume.”
“You’re not going to talk me out of it? Will you help me?”
“I wish I had known more on my wedding night. I loved Daniel, but I was terrified. We wasted too much time fumbling about.” Her smile was mostly rueful with only a tinge of sadness. “Although…”
The leading way Charlotte looked at Eleanor made her sit a little straighter. “What?”
“One night’s experience is not sufficient. You’ll need to conduct extensive research.”
Eleanor hadn’t thought of that. The previous night had exposed her to so many new experiences that she hadn’t imagined there could be more. A zip of anticipation and excitement made her tingle from the roots of her hair to her toes.
“You’re right. Do you think Callum would be willing?”
Charlotte burst into laughter so hearty she folded over and wrapped her arms around her stomach, unable to answer.