This was true. Regina could hardly refute that.
“You mean to say you have three sisters?” Miss Eliza asked.
“Four. I have another sister, Louisa.”
“It goes Bridget, Louisa, Natalie, Elizabeth, and then little Puck here,” Harrison explained.
“You gave her a nickname,” Miss Eliza said. “I am going to be sick in the soup tureen.”
“By all means,” Harrison replied, not at all perturbed by this announcement. “I hate that tureen, it was a gift from a ghastly great-aunt.”
“Surely you have interests,” Cora said. “You don’t sit around and do nothing all day.”
“I like to read,” Regina said. “Lord Harrison was kind enough to show me his library. I’ve spent days in it. I’ve read every book in our library at home.”
“Oh goodness, she still gives him an honorific,” Miss Eliza snorted. “Dear, you might as well drop that. A simple Harrison will do if you’re not comfortable with his first name.”
“Not all of us are ingrates who flaunt Christian names about,” Lord Quentin teased.
“Edmund,” Miss Eliza replied. “Edmund, Edmund, Edmund. There.”
“You are all children,” Cora muttered. To Regina she said, “Indeed? Reading? You shall have to tell me some of the books you’ve read.”
Now that, Regina could do. She started with a passionate explanation of the latest book she had read, a most diverting novel written anonymously. The author’s name had been given only as “A Lady.” She was wildly curious to know who the author was.
“If only so that I might thank her,” Regina explained. “Her wit is insightful and cutting. There was this one passage where she spoke of a gentleman whose Christian name was Richard. She said…”
“That he ‘had never done anything to entitle himself to more than the abbreviation of his name,’” Cora quoted.
Miss Eliza laughed with delight and Regina smiled. Cora gave her a small, almost private smile. Regina got the feeling that Cora didn’t smile very often. She felt special for having earned one.
They continued to discuss books for a while. Finally, a subject that Regina felt comfortable with. She knew a great many books. She had even read some books of law that her father kept.
Technically she wasn’t supposed to be reading those. But when she had found herself bored and with no new books or knitting, what else was she supposed to do?
Sometime around dessert she admitted that her other passion was needlepoint. “I’m afraid I am not one for riding or shooting or any of that,” she confessed.
“But you go to balls, do you not?” Miss Eliza asked.
“Very reluctantly.”
“Why ever so?” Miss Eliza didn’t seem upset or teasing. She sounded genuinely confused. “I’m sure you must find your company sought after.”
Regina shook her head. “I am not comfortable with crowds or strangers. I’m not overly fond of dancing. And…”
Her voice trailed off as she thought of the things that had been said of her over the years. How people said she was too drab and quiet. Or they said that she was rude on the few occasions she did speak out.
She thought of how the men were never interested in her. Or if they did speak to her they generally made her uncomfortable. And, more often than not, they were only speaking to her to get close to one of her sisters.
Far from being sought out, she was quite certain that if she had disappeared off the face of the earth, most of society wouldn’t have noticed.
Something of her distress must have shown on her face. A moment after, she felt the firm press of lips at the top of her head. She had forgotten that Harrison still had his arm around her, and that she was all but tucked against his side.
“Puck here underestimates herself,” Harrison said. “She hasn’t been given the chance to shine, that’s all.”
“And Oberon here has far too much faith in me,” she added, and she meant it.
She tilted her head up to be able to look into Harrison’s face. He gave her a flat, unimpressed look. His eyes twinkled, though—probably because of the nickname.
“I see nothing wrong with your interests,” Cora said. “From what I hear, most people seem to think all that a woman should do is needlepoint and reading. I should think that most would applaud you.”
“Men only want a woman to be quiet like that once the wooing is done,” Lord Quentin pointed out. “Up until then they want a flirtatious girl who will dance with them. Someone they can easily impress.”
“You mean someone who will say yes,” Lord Mannis pointed out. “And not just to marriage. If you catch my meaning.”
“Darling there’s no need to be crass,” Miss Eliza said.
“It’s the truth,” Lord Mannis replied. “I know it pains you my dear but not everyone is as pure of mind as you. Many men are impatient. They don’t want to wait until wedlock.”
“Surely that’s why brothels were invented,” Lord Quentin joked.
“Times like these I am glad that I take pleasure in women,” Cora said. “No man will take me for sport.”
“I hadn’t realized this was so…” Regina searched for the right word. “Prevalent.”
“It happens more often than people want to believe,” Harrison said. Perhaps she was imagining it but it felt as though his grip on her tightened slightly in a protective gesture.
“Everyone wants sex,” Cora said dismissively. “And if one is smart about it there’s nothing wrong with that. But men will convince a girl that they shall marry her. They sleep with her, and then leave her. The poor thing is then left heartbroken.”
“And God forbid anyone finds out,” Lord Mannis added. “Then the girl is ruined.”
“Always the girl and never the man,” Miss Eliza said.
“I think it can be valuable, as long as both parties are respectful,” Lord Quentin said. “Goodness knows I didn’t know what I was doing the first few times. Can you imagine if it was with my wife? I’d have disappointed her terribly.”
“So you disappointed a prostitute instead,” Miss Eliza said.
“They are used to disappointment,” Cora added dryly.
Regina was back to feeling uncomfortable. To hear intimacy spoken of so openly? It was unheard of. Especially to have it spoken of as something that could be done between people who were unmarried—to be said that it wasn’t necessarily a sin.
“Nothing is either good or bad, but thinking makes it so,” Lord Mannis said. “Shakespeare’s a little overdone if you ask me but he could be an insightful bloke.”
Regina thought about that. “You’re saying that sex doesn’t necessarily have to be just between a man and wife?”
“It doesn’t make sense, does it?” Lord Mannis said. “We’re told that it’s a sin and then when we’re married we’re told we must do it. I think sex is commonly an expression of pleasure, and at its best an expression of love.”