“No. In truth, he’s been very patient with me, willing to wait until I’m ready.” She glanced away. “But once men are caught up in . . . their passion, they can be unpredictable.” When she caught Yvette watching her with curiosity, she added hastily, “Or so I’ve heard.”
Yvette eyed her suspiciously. “Well, I don’t know who’s been telling you these things—I assume it was your mother—but no matter what silliness we’ve always been taught, men are not bullies one has to endure in the bedroom. At least my husband is not.”
“Perhaps your husband is different.”
“I doubt it, or there wouldn’t be so many wives taking lovers in our circles. They must get some pleasure out of the swiving. The first time is a bit difficult, but after that, it’s wonderful. What did your mother tell you to expect, anyway?”
Clarissa could hardly admit the truth—that her first time had been agony. That she wasn’t convinced it would be any better the second time. Or the third or the fourth. What if she wasn’t . . . made right somehow? “It doesn’t matter,” she mumbled.
“It does matter.” Yvette rose to put her arm around Clarissa. “Marriage requires trust. You either trust your husband to be careful with you, or you don’t. I realize it’s probably hard to trust a man you were forced into—” She caught herself. “Coaxed into marrying for reasons outside of love. But you trusted him enough to agree to his plan. You trusted him to keep you safe from Durand. Can’t you trust him in this?”
Clarissa truly didn’t know.
Yvette frowned. “Then again, I’m assuming that you desire him, too. Perhaps you don’t.”
“That is not the problem, believe me,” Clarissa said dryly. “Your brother has more of Samuel’s talent for enticing a woman than I ever would have guessed.”
“Does he, indeed?” Yvette said with a sly look. “How surprising.”
Clarissa blushed. “Honestly, I cannot believe I’m having this conversation with his sister, of all people.”
“Not just his sister. Your friend. I will always be your friend first, you know.” Yvette squeezed her shoulder. “We women have to stick together, after all.”
Impulsively, Clarissa embraced her. “I’m so happy you came to visit,” she whispered. “You always did have the ability to cheer me up. And I’m very glad we’ll be sisters now.”
“Me, too.”
They hugged fiercely, both of them teary-eyed.
Then Yvette held her at arm’s length. “Answer me one question.”
“What is it?” Clarissa asked, dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief.
“Do you want my brother? Do you really want to be Lady Blakeborough in more than name only? To bear his children, be his companion, and have him be yours? Do you hope for the possibility of love down the road, once the two of you know each other better? Do you want a real future with Edwin?”
“Yes.” The moment the words were out of her mouth she realized it was true. She had always wanted a life like that—the life she’d been bred for. But she’d assumed she couldn’t have it.
Then Edwin had come along and made her rethink her assumptions, and now she was worried he would give up on her before she could beat down the terror deep inside her.
“In that case,” Yvette went on stoutly, “you must fight for him. The Clarissa I know wouldn’t let fear of pain govern her actions. The Clarissa I know wouldn’t sit back and wait for things to change, but would go after what she wants, ignoring the opinions of propriety and society alike. The Clarissa I know would take the bull by the horns.”
Clarissa straightened her spine. “She would, wouldn’t she?”
“Bloody right she would,” Yvette said with a shocking use of bad language. “So Jeremy and I will take ourselves back to London and leave you to it.”
“Oh, that would be wonderful.” Clarissa added hastily, “Not that I don’t love having you here and everything, but—”
“I understand completely. And if there’s anything else I can do to help, like loan you jewelry or a bottle of scent or clothes—”
Clarissa’s eyes brightened as something occurred to her. “Actually, you could help me find something to wear. But it’s not going to be what you think.”
“Oh?”
“Edwin and I made a sort of challenge with each other this afternoon that I lost, so now . . . well . . . Did your mother happen to keep any of your brothers’ clothes from when they were younger?”
Yvette broke into a grin, probably remembering how Edwin had reacted the last time Clarissa had worn male attire. “I don’t know. But it shouldn’t take us long to find out.”
Nineteen
The ladies had been upstairs an inordinate amount of time. Edwin glanced at the clock in his study, where he and Jeremy were still sitting with their brandy and cigars. It had been over two hours, for God’s sake. What were they doing up there?
He was about to comment on it when Yvette came hurrying in.
“Where’s my wife?” Edwin asked, looking beyond her for the minx who drove him insane even when she wasn’t nearby.
Yvette smiled. “She’ll be down shortly. But Jeremy and I are leaving for London.”
“What?” Jeremy said. “But we just got here!”