Patrick shook his head. “That is different.”
“How so?”
“I don’t know. If I married, I’d want to know that my wife…” He let out a long sigh. “It doesn’t matter. I am not getting married, so what do I care?”
“You want your wife to be chaste. You can say it, I’m not offended.”
“Linley…”
She smiled at him as best she could. “You’re right, a man expects his wife to be a virgin. I made my decision. I sealed my fate. I understood what I was getting myself into, and I am happy with my choice.”
“Truly?” He looked straight into her eyes.
Linley nodded. “Truly.”
Patrick bent his head down and kissed her. Linley snuggled her head on his shoulder, again staring out at the mountains.
“You must think I’m awfully fast,” she said, watching the clouds swirl around some distant peak. “I threw myself at you like a chorus girl from the Gaiety.”
He laughed and hugged her tighter. “Gaiety girls appreciate a seasoned man.”
“I didn’t say I did not appreciate your experience. I just said it was unfair that men were not expected to be virgins. Women have to lay back and spread their legs, knowing that their husband has kept a mistress or lain with whores, and pray to God he doesn’t have a venereal disease.”
Patrick coughed and sputtered. “What do you know of venereal diseases?”
“I know I don’t want one.”
“Well, I don’t have any.”
Linley smiled. “Of course not, Patrick. I never meant to imply you did.”
“No, really. I take precautions,” he said. “I mean, I usually take precautions, but I didn’t bring any with me this time. I hadn’t expected anything to happen, so why would I? But, I’m normally very careful.” Patrick lifted her head off his shoulder and looked her hard in the face. “And you should be careful, too.”
Linley had no idea what he was talking about, but she nodded.
“Don’t just let some chap…”
“What?” she asked “Don’t just let some chap what?”
Patrick sighed. “I’ll teach you about that another time.”
Linley dropped the subject, thinking since Patrick was the one who knew all about those sort of things, he would tell her what she needed to know when the time was right. She did wonder who taught him about such things—his father? One of his friends? Maybe even Lady Wolstanton.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
They intended to make love on that mountaintop. Patrick stripped down to his underclothes while Linley struggled with the buttons of her blouse. He did not see her hands tremble as she unfastened them, but once she slid the shirt over her head, he saw something else.
“What is that?” he asked, pointing at a patch of dark pink spots across the top of her chest. “A rash?”
Linley looked down, but she could hardly see anything.
Patrick leaned in closer. It was definitely a rash. “Have you gotten into something?”
“Not that I can recall.”
He searched his own chest. “Do I have anything?”
Linley shook her head. “No, you’re fine.”
“I don’t like the looks of it,” he said. “You should show your father.”
“I am not showing my father my chest!”
Patrick helped her put her shirt back on, careful not to touch the rash. “You don’t have to show him all of it, but he might have some idea what it is.”
Linley stood up and dusted off the seat of her skirt. When she did so, she wobbled a little. “I’ve never had a rash before. Not even as a little girl.”
He was too concerned with putting his own clothes on to notice she was unsteady on her feet. “Well, you’re lucky you made it this long,” he said, pulling his belt tight and pushing the end through the buckle. “I just hope it isn’t contagious.”
“So do I, for your sake.”
They walked hand in hand back down the path. Patrick walked too briskly, because Linley struggled to keep up. He slowed down to an easier pace, noting the way she was out of breath. He also saw she perspired as if she’d just ran a foot race.
“Should we stop for a moment?” he asked.
Linley shook her head. “No. Let’s keep going.”
“Are you certain, because—”
“I said no.”
Patrick felt her hand grow clammy. A fine sheen of sweat covered her skin, which looked very, very flushed. He hoped something they encountered on their hike had not made her ill. After all, she seemed perfectly well that morning.
As they walked, Linley’s condition worsened. She stumbled over her own feet, relying on Patrick to keep her from falling. He held her by the elbow, guiding her down the path one slow step at a time. When they reached the prayer wheels they encountered on their trip up, Linley vomited.
“You are too sick to walk any further,” Patrick said, scooping her up into his arms. “Let me carry you.”
She was in no state to argue. Her head pounded. Her stomach ached, and she reeled from nausea. “I don’t know what’s come over me.”