Ben swirled his drink. “Still, itwasrude of Lady Matilda to walk out on your dance together. I agree with your mother on that.”
“It feels like the night before a fierce battle,” Albion admitted. “You know that shiver you get in your stomach that sort of writhes up into your chest, and you can’t sit still, can’t sleep, can’t even eat without feeling sick.”
Ben nodded. “I know the feeling well.”
“And you know those moments where you’re standing on a cold field in the drizzling rain, waiting for the order, and you suddenly wonder what on earth you’re doing there?”
Ben nodded again, grinning.
“Well, I don’t think this is going to be a triumph that takes all those doubts away—that’s all I’ll say.” Albion closed his eyes and sipped his brandy, praying that when he opened them again, he would be in a field tent, surrounded by the snores of his men, and not preparing to meet the enemy at the altar.
* * *
“I thought they would have to carry me out of here when I was old and gray and dead as a doornail,” Matilda said, wrapping a blanket tighter around herself despite the balmy night. “I do not know who ‘they’ are. You, I suppose, or your descendants. Maybe just the servants. Either way, I was not meant to leave before I was ready.”
The Spinsters’ Club were all together on the emerald lawn that sloped gently down toward a fishpond. Torches flickered in the dusk, casting dancing shadows onto the grass with every breath of wind.
“Are you not at all excited?” Olivia asked, cradling a cup of tea. “No, perhaps ‘excited’ is not the right word. Are you not… interested to see what your life will be like? You could think of it like one of your experiments. Study it, make notes, write a book about the pitfalls and struggles and surprises of an arranged match.”
Phoebe chuckled grimly. “Goodness knows there are plenty of ladies who would relish such a book. Indeed, it might make their own arranged matches seem less terrifying if there was someone to answer every question, allay every fear, calm every worry. You would be like the country’s adopted aunt, revealing matrimony’s secrets.”
“That is rather a good idea, actually,” Anna agreed.
“If you make it into an investigation, a study, then it might become less worrisome for you too. A different perspective. It is not an unwanted, unwelcome marriage but the beginning of a lengthy, educational examination of marriage itself,” Leah joined in, nodding thoughtfully.
Matilda appreciated what they were trying to do, and the longer she thought about it, the more she liked the notion. Maybe, her cousin had been right—maybe, women did not want books about herbal remedies but books about how to navigate difficult situations. Perhaps, the two could even intertwine, for if a marriage went awry, there were plenty of herbs that made discreet poisons.
Behave yourself,she scolded her mind, for it kept veering toward the dark side of things lately.
“Youdoknow everything about… um… weddings, do you not?” Phoebe interjected, glancing shyly at her married friends. The trio’s cheeks immediately flushed, knowing smiles tugging at the corners of their mouths.
“I think Phoebe is referring to the wedding night,” Olivia said, grinning.
Matilda stared blankly at them. “What of it? Do you think he snores? That would not surprise me, but it matters little; I shall not be sharing a bedchamber with him.”
“You might not have a choice,” Leah said, more softly. “It would not be very friendly of us if we did not inform you of the details. Phoebe, perhaps you should tell her. You are the best at describing things.”
Phoebe shook her head. “I am theworstat describing things. Olivia, maybe you could?”
“Me?” Olivia squeaked. “No, I could not possibly do so. I would not know where to begin.”
Matilda rolled her eyes. “Out with it. Do not be shy. Whatever it is, I only need to know for scientific purposes. As part of this experiment.”
“I know nothing of science,” Olivia insisted. “Leah, I think you should explain it.”
Leah hesitated, chewing her lower lip in thought. “Well… when a lady and a gentleman—no, it is not solely a matter for gentry. Um… let me begin again. When a man and a woman are married, there is… an event that takes place, ordinarily on the wedding night though that is not always true. Sometimes, the… event takes place much later. Whenever a couple are ready, I suppose, if you have the right sort of husband.”
The right sort of husband…Matilda did not like the sound of that caveat, for she still did not know what manner of husband hers would be. From their encounters, he had become something of a pendulum in her mind, his actions and behavior and demeanor ticking both ways between “decent enough fellow” and “intimidating ruffian.”
“Yes, an event between husband and wife,” Olivia chimed in, offering nothing of value. “A pleasant event. Maybe not so much at first, but after the first event or two, it becomes very pleasant. At least in my experience.”
“Scoundrel!” Leah burst out laughing, nudging her friend in the arm. “I can only agree. It is exceedingly pleasant, eventually.”
“It can be pleasant during the first event, too,” Phoebe said shyly as the other two descended into more raucous laughter, clapping their hands together in delight.
Meanwhile, Anna and Matilda exchanged confused glances. Matilda hated feeling ignorant, but she could not even guess what the other three were talking about. Weddings and wedding nights had never been a topic of conversation between them, nor had she spoken of it with her father, for it was not supposed to be a realm of consideration that would ever concern her.
“Will you speak plainly, for heaven’s sake,” Matilda urged, losing patience. “What is this mysterious ‘event’ that you seem incapable of mentioning properly?”
