“Yes. Given his upcoming marriage, he thought it best to end our . . . friendship. I could not agree more. Had he not already chosen to do so, rest assured that I would have.”
“You would have ended it?” Henrietta asked in surprise. Muriel Mathieson wasn’t at all the kind of woman she had imagined.
“Indeed,” Muriel affirmed. “I may be morally compromised in some respects, but I do not condone marital infidelity. I believe Julian’s actions indicate that he feels the same way. I don’t pretend to know anything about your relationship, but it appears he wishes to begin the marriage on the right footing.”
“That is most reasurring,” Henrietta said. “Thank you again for your time.”
“Please, Miss Houghton.” Murial touched her arm. “I’m certain Julian would be beside himself if he knew you had come here, but since you have, might I offer you some refreshment? Some tea, perhaps? I admit I have wondered many things about you.”
“You wondered about me?” Henrietta replied with a laugh.
“Yes,” Muriel said. “I was most intrigued about what kind of young woman had finally captured Julian’s heart.”
Henrietta decided in that moment that she quite liked Julian’s former mistress. “Yes,” Henrietta replied with a nod. “I would be delighted to take some tea with you.”
Over the course of the next several hours, the two woman chatted like bosom beaus. “Your family doesn’t approve of your intended marriage?” Muriel asked.
“No,” Henrietta said. “My mother has never approved of Julian. And while my hypocritical brother likes Julian well enough to consult his opinion on horses and hounds, his good opinion does not extend to accepting him into the family.”
“My family didn’t approve of my choice either. They disowned me when I wed Charles,” Muriel said sadly.
“They did? Why?” Henrietta asked.
“For much the same reasons, I suppose. He was a younger son with no money or property. They had higher aspirations for me, but I loved Charles, so we eloped.”
“Do you have regrets over the estrangement from your family?”
“I would act no differntly if given the choice to do it again,” Muriel replied adamantly. “We were only together for six months before he went to Portugal, but it was the happiest time of my life. He wrote me diligently every day, but we never saw each other again.”
“I’m so very sorry,” Henrietta said, feeling an instant kinship. “I also lost someone I cared a great deal about in Portugal.”
“I only wish I could have borne his child before I lost him.” Her green eyes misted over. “Julian brought me all of Charles’ letters and personal effects. It was how we met. I never intended for he and I to become involved but . . .” Her voice dropped off.
“I understand your need for comfort. Do you love him?” Henrietta blurted the last question that plagued her.
“Julian has been kind to me and a friend when I was in need,” Muriel replied. “But no one will ever replace my dearest Charles. Do you love Julian?”
“I have always loved Julian,” Henrietta confessed. “At least the Julian that left Shropshire six years ago, but I was uncertain until I came here that he was the same man I am about to pledge myself to.”
“And now?” Muriel asked.
“In many ways, he has changed, but he is still Julian. There is something else I need to ask you . . .” Henrietta began hesitantly, chewing on her lip. “But I can’t think how to do so without being indelicate.”
Muriel laid a hand on hers. “You may ask me anything, Henrietta, just know that if I deem it too personal, I may not answer. What is on your mind?”
“I have no experience of men,” Henrietta said. “I have only been kissed one time.”
“Did you like it?” Muriel asked.
“Yes, but I don’t think I was supposed to like it.”
Muriel laughed. “Whyever not?”
“Because it was not the way I imagined being kissed. It wasn’t at all gentle.”
Muriel’s mouth curved into a knowing smile. “Then it was a passionate kiss?”
“I suppose so. I felt almost as if I would be ravished.”
Muriel’s smile disappeared. “It frightened you?”
“Perhaps a little, but it excited me more.”
“Was it Julian?” Muriel asked.
“Yes,” Henrietta replied.
“Julian is a man of great passion, Henrietta. If you are to wed him and wish to keep him satisfied, you must not be reticent in the bedchamber. A man who is well satisfied in his marital bed rarely strays from it, but if the bed is cold, he will seek to warm himself elsewhere.”
“Oh.” Henrietta swallowed hard. “I see.”
“Do you not desire him?” Muriel asked.
“Of course I do!” Henrietta said. “But I haven’t a clue what pleases him. Would you tell me, Muriel?”
“No.” She shook her head slowly. “I think it would be best if you discover it from Julian himself. If you are willing, Henrietta, he will show you.” She added with a wink, “Or better yet, he may be far more eager to learn what best pleases you.”